How To Be An Opera Orchestra String Player

Katherine Shields

• Start playing at an early age, say ten at the latest.
• Spend a few bucks, maybe 10-40,000, on an instrument.
• Acquire several bows, which are priced at least $2,000 each.
• Get several university degrees in music performance.
• Along the way, get lots of experience: playing chamber music, symphony, summer festivals, musicals and sundry gigs (don’t forget those “Singing Christmas Trees”)

Then- take the opera orchestra audition. We’ll fast forward over the details.

Congratulations on winning the job with the opera orchestra! Here’s your schedule on rehearsal day:

At 4:30 PM, after a full day doing whatever you do (chasing children around, feeding dogs, grocery shopping, shot putting, caber tossing) you’ll pack up your instrument, a sack dinner and a cup of java. Drop everything (not the java) to get in the car for a hair-raising drive out-of-town. Try not to splash java on yourself while driving; workers comp won’t cover any burns acquired before the rehearsal begins.

Once you’ve arrived, jockey for a parking spot. Get out of the car, grab your bags, sprint for the hall, snarf the dinner, and get yourself and the instrument into the pit. Don’t trip over the light cords or the woodwind players while navigating to your seat. But if you do trip and take a couple of flutists down with you, don’t worry – their medical expenses will be covered by workers comp.

Arrange the music on your stand. As the light bulbs aren’t bright enough to illuminate two pages of music, you’ll be sliding the music back and forth across the stand depending on which page you need to see. If you remembered to wear your spelunker’s headlamp, disregard the previous instruction and give yourself 50 bonus points which can be used for extra sugar in your intermission coffee. And don’t fret if you can’t see the conductor from where you’re sitting. You can always watch him on the bulky TV monitor that’s suspended over the pit. That’s right, the thing that’s bungied to the wall and shakes when the audience applauds.

You’ll need three things in the pit to survive this opera: water, sugar and your choice of caffeine or chocolate. Set out your water bottle and the Altoids in front of your music stand. Statistics have shown that you’ll need one Altoid for every 5 pages of Puccini; one for every 3 pages of Verdi, and 3 Altoids for each page of Strauss. If for some reason you’re not sufficiently caffeinated, this is a good time to mooch some chocolates from the cellists. You may not need it now but by the third act it will be very welcome.

Orient your chair and stand so you don’t stab your stand partner OR smash your bow into the wall. (This is where those “fake bows” -made of proprietary blends of Kevlar, fiberglass, strapping tape, and conch shells-come in handy.) Try to hold your instrument so the scroll won’t clunk on the music stand unless you’re doubling on percussion. After you find a position, lock it in place and stay exactly like that for the entire act. (For a list of recommended chiropractors, physical therapists and TMJ doctors see Appendix A)

Concentrate with all your brain power for the entire act. Above all- play musically!

At the first intermission, unlock your body. Phone your chiropractor and make an appointment. And don’t complain! After all, you had 3 rests in the first act long enough to take the instrument off your shoulder. Now dash out to the coffee table. Fortunately the orchestra’s collective bargaining agreement states that the musicians may drink all the coffee they can chug in one twenty minute intermission. The trick is to get the coffee cooled off to the drinkable stage by the end of intermission. While waiting, you can do some yoga in the hallway, if it’s not too crowded with chorus members wearing large hoop skirts.

Repeat twice.

After the show, have another cup of coffee so you’ll be awake enough to drive home. Have a couple of heavy metal CD’s ready to put on. Don’t count on your carpool buddies to keep you awake. They’ll be sawing logs in about five minutes. Cross your fingers that your kids will be asleep when you arrive home, so you can turn in. Because tomorrow you get to do it all over again!

If you need help getting to sleep after the five cups of coffee you’ve had since 4:30 pm, try “The History of Western Music” by Donald J. Grout. To locate the nearest chapter of Caffeine Anonymous, see Appendix B.