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地域劇場
研究のかたわら、室内楽のクラスでピアノを弾いている雅子さんは、クラスの先生に頼まれ、バイオリン発表会の伴奏を引き受けました。それを機に、地域劇場で行なわれるミュージカル喜劇の伴奏も頼まれたのですが…。
Community Theater
By MASAKO YAMADA
I've been playing in various chamber music groups since college and I've come across different kinds of musicians as a
result. I've played with young aspiring professionals, women who have returned to music after spending decades taking
care of their children, retirees for whom music is a reason to live and working professionals for whom music is a way to
unwind. These connections have helped me get a glimpse of worlds that are very different from my regular life as a
graduate student.
One of my chamber music coaches, a Suzuki method violin/viola teacher, asked me to be an accompanist for a student
recital. I obliged. Accompanying these near-beginners was actually very hard, but I am glad that I did it. It was my
first paid music gig, I got to see a wide range of students, and it led to my accompanying for a local community
theater.
I got a call from a director of the community theater group, called The Footlight Club, about a week ago, asking if I
would like to play in a production of "Cox and Box," a one-act musical comedy. He had heard that I was a good
accompanist.
I liked the idea of doing something completely new, so I complied. I know that community theater tends to attract a
liberal, artsy crowd, which is a bit different from the rather conservative classical music crowd, and this intrigued
me. I could stand to make some cool new friends, I thought.
I ran into trouble immediately, however, since it seemed that there wasn't any way I could get a copy of the score
before the first rehearsal. The performance would be coming up in only a week!!
The director kept on promising me that he'd get me a copy, but day after day he did not fulfill his promise. He told
me that he simply couldn't do it. I figured that this was typical, dramatic "actor type" behavior, and being a "science
type" person, I became frustrated. Strangely, I was not angry and told him that it was fine. I figured that this was a
world to which I would have to adjust.
When I met the director, I saw immediately that he had not been exaggerating. He had a severe limp and he could barely open his fists to turn a page. He held his baton by sandwiching it between his fingers. He talked about his
numerous performances when he was younger, and he was not too old, so it was clear he had some kind of disease. I felt
ashamed for stereotyping him as a flaky artist and grateful that I had not reacted harshly before.
I could not feel sorry for too long, though. He immediately made me start playing through the entire musical with the
actors (who had already had a few rehearsals). I didn't even have time to glance at the score, much less rehearse
sections slowly. I frantically sight-read the music and tried to follow the script.
He had a sharp mind, a sharp eye and a sharp tongue. I can't count the times that he snapped or glared at me for missing
my cue, for not matching the actors' lines, for playing too softly or for speeding up. I was too busy trying to flip the
pages and grab the right notes to be able to think of subtle issues. This man was a professional and he was polite.
However, it was clear that he demanded a lot. The rehearsal started at 4 p.m. and I didn't get home, exhausted, until
after 11 p.m.
I suppose he sensed that I was flustered and he apologized to me numerous times for seeming a bit harsh. He told me
that I was young and that it was all for my own good. He had a jolly twinkle in his eye, and I found myself liking him,
even though I felt miserable. I felt that I needed to learn so much.
I'm used to the body language of chamber music, where the players decide who gives the cues, or solo piano playing,
where I set my own tempo. I've never had a conductor give me cues. Even during the one rehearsal, I started learning how to
sense his cues from the corner of my eye. Knowing my lack of experience, he started giving me bigger gestures, but he told
me he'd scale back later on.
I've always liked good teachers and this lesson was something that I had not expected when I agreed to play in this
musical. The theater members were, indeed, as artsy as I'd expected. But I almost forgot to notice them.
I've been playing in various chamber music groups since college and I've come across different kinds of musicians as a
result. I've played with young aspiring professionals, women who have returned to music after spending decades taking
care of their children, retirees for whom music is a reason to live and working professionals for whom music is a way to
unwind. These connections have helped me get a glimpse of worlds that are very different from my regular life as a
graduate student.
One of my chamber music coaches, a Suzuki method violin/viola teacher, asked me to be an accompanist for a student
recital. I obliged. Accompanying these near-beginners was actually very hard, but I am glad that I did it. It was my
first paid music gig, I got to see a wide range of students, and it led to my accompanying for a local community
theater.
I got a call from a director of the community theater group, called The Footlight Club, about a week ago, asking if I
would like to play in a production of "Cox and Box," a one-act musical comedy. He had heard that I was a good
accompanist.
I liked the idea of doing something completely new, so I complied. I know that community theater tends to attract a
liberal, artsy crowd, which is a bit different from the rather conservative classical music crowd, and this intrigued
me. I could stand to make some cool new friends, I thought.
I ran into trouble immediately, however, since it seemed that there wasn't any way I could get a copy of the score
before the first rehearsal. The performance would be coming up in only a week!!
The director kept on promising me that he'd get me a copy, but day after day he did not fulfill his promise. He told
me that he simply couldn't do it. I figured that this was typical, dramatic "actor type" behavior, and being a "science
type" person, I became frustrated. Strangely, I was not angry and told him that it was fine. I figured that this was a
world to which I would have to adjust.
When I met the director, I saw immediately that he had not been exaggerating. He had a severe limp and he could barely open his fists to turn a page. He held his baton by sandwiching it between his fingers. He talked about his
numerous performances when he was younger, and he was not too old, so it was clear he had some kind of disease. I felt
ashamed for stereotyping him as a flaky artist and grateful that I had not reacted harshly before.
I could not feel sorry for too long, though. He immediately made me start playing through the entire musical with the
actors (who had already had a few rehearsals). I didn't even have time to glance at the score, much less rehearse
sections slowly. I frantically sight-read the music and tried to follow the script.
He had a sharp mind, a sharp eye and a sharp tongue. I can't count the times that he snapped or glared at me for missing
my cue, for not matching the actors' lines, for playing too softly or for speeding up. I was too busy trying to flip the
pages and grab the right notes to be able to think of subtle issues. This man was a professional and he was polite.
However, it was clear that he demanded a lot. The rehearsal started at 4 p.m. and I didn't get home, exhausted, until
after 11 p.m.
I suppose he sensed that I was flustered and he apologized to me numerous times for seeming a bit harsh. He told me
that I was young and that it was all for my own good. He had a jolly twinkle in his eye, and I found myself liking him,
even though I felt miserable. I felt that I needed to learn so much.
I'm used to the body language of chamber music, where the players decide who gives the cues, or solo piano playing,
where I set my own tempo. I've never had a conductor give me cues. Even during the one rehearsal, I started learning how to
sense his cues from the corner of my eye. Knowing my lack of experience, he started giving me bigger gestures, but he told
me he'd scale back later on.
I've always liked good teachers and this lesson was something that I had not expected when I agreed to play in this
musical. The theater members were, indeed, as artsy as I'd expected. But I almost forgot to notice them.
Shukan ST: Jan. 21, 2000
(C) All rights reserved
- chamber music
- 室内楽
- aspiring professionals
- やる気のあるプロの卵
- after spending decades 〜
- 何十年も 〜 した後
- retirees
- 退職者
- unwind
- くつろぐ
- get a glimpse of 〜
- 〜 をかいま見る
- Suzuki method
- スズキ・メソッド(音楽教育者の鈴木鎮一が始めたバイオリンの才能教育法)を使う
- accompanist
- 伴奏者
- recital
- リサイタル
- obliged
- 引き受けた
- gig
- 演奏会
- it led to my 〜
- そのおかげで 〜 する仕事も入った
- production
- 上演作品
- one-act 〜
- 一幕ものの 〜
- complied
- 応じた
- tends to attract a liberal, artsy crowd
- 自由主義的で芸術肌の上演者・観客を引きつける傾向がある
- conservative
- 保守的な
- intrigued 〜
- 〜 の興味をそそった
- could stand to 〜
- 〜 する可能性がある
- ran into trouble
- 問題に直面した
- there wasn't any way I could get a copy of the score before 〜
- 〜 の前に楽譜を入手することはできない
- fulfill his promise
- 約束を果たす
- I figured that this was typical, dramatic "actor type' behavior, and being a "science type' person 〜
- いかにも劇的な「俳優タイプ」らしい態度だと思ったが、「科学向き」の自分としては 〜
- adjust
- 順応する
- had not been exaggerating
- 誇張していなかった
- had a severe limp
- ひどく足を引きずっていた
- could barely open his fists
- かろうじてこぶしを開くことができた
- baton
- 指揮棒
- sandwiching 〜 between 〜
- 〜 を 〜 の間に挟んで
- felt ashamed for 〜
- 〜 を恥じた
- stereotyping 〜 as 〜
- 〜 を 〜 という型にはめて考える
- flaky
- 風変わりな
- harshly
- 厳しく
- glance
- 一目見る
- much less
- まして
- frantically
- 狂ったように
- sight-read the music
- 初見で演奏した
- sharp tongue
- 辛らつな物言い
- times that he snapped or glared at me for missing my cue, for not matching the actors' lines, for playing too softly or for speeding up
- 出番を逃したり、役者のせりふと合わなかったり、弱く弾きすぎたり、速くなったりしたときに、彼がきつい言葉を吐いたり、にらんだりした回数
- flip
- めくる
- grab the right notes
- 正しい音を出す
- subtle issues
- 細かいこと
- demanded a lot
- 要求が高い
- exhausted
- 疲れきって
- was flustered
- ろうばいしていた
- for my own good
- 私のため
- jolly twinkle
- すてきな輝き
- miserable
- みじめな
- (would)scale back
- 身振りを小さくしていく