Ugly Babies

I could feel myself sinking deeper into my chair, the eyes of my peers boring holes into the back of my head. It wasn't going to work. I had failed. As balances went askew and music devolved, I felt that I had lost my inner-ear. My imagination had led me astray.

Or so it always seems to go, the first time you hear a creation of yours attempted by real, living people.

New music is like an ugly baby, you see.

First, it comes out a big mess, too slippery to hold on to and not even capable of uttering a painful cry. A smack on the rear, and it starts to wail, albeit not out of joy. Snip the cord (chord?), do a quick clean-up job, and suddenly you have something that resembles the offspring of adult humans.

Still, newborns generally aren't the cutest straight out of the gate. Things change quickly, however. Slowly their eyes open, slowly they begin to accept their place, and surely they grow more powerfully cute by the day.

So it was with the orchestra readings I recently experienced. The first run was completely disheartening, the second a bit better. The recordings I took home gave evidence of a possibly good piece, but I still wasn't convinced. Somehow, by the time our second day of readings was over, I had a wonderful recording of my music, and people complementing me on a job well done.

That's one quick clean-up job.

So here's to ugly newborns, new music, and the willingness to bring new things to life. I'd like to think that the effort is certainly worth it.