I’ve been watching some of the WASO concerts online (West Australian Symphony Orchestra) and it’s taking me back to my days playing in the school concert band and singing in the choir during my music scholarship years - the shivers up the spine when the whole orchestra reaches the same level of passion for a massive crescendo, the joy of a perfectly harmonised moment in a favourite piece. Ah, good times.
I always preferred to sing and play the harmonies rather than the leads. I preferred to be the flavouring rather than the main ingredient; be the counterpoint. I hated it when I was thrust into the first clarinet position (probably by default) and had to plod along in the main melodies.
I never wanted to stand out, never wanted to be the soprano in the limelight, or the acclaimed soloist getting the glory. I always thought the harmonies had the more interesting parts. Even now, humming along to Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and yes that old chestnut, Handel’s Messiah, I’m singing the harmony instead of the tune.
I’ve only now realised the correlation between that and the rest of my life: I always thought I just didn’t like to lead, I liked to follow, but that’s not it at all. I just prefer the second fiddle because it’s so much more interesting.
The main melody on it’s own is ok, but with harmony behind it, it pops.
Lately I’ve been thinking I had a character flaw by not having the drive or urge to sit at the top of the tree, and now I realise it’s because I prefer the much more interesting life in the middle branches.
Missing out on a job for a higher position last week has made me question my whole character, and I’m so over it. There’s nothing at all wrong with me not wanting to take the lead. So there.
Alto for life.
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