#orchestra problems

[moochou-eats-paper]

please fucking do this. please.

splitting sections into two is actually a good idea and as someone who plays in a shitty junior orchestra (not that shitty, sorry, I’m being harsh), people would actually play the music instead of moving their bow up and down and relying on front row.

Hey can someone help me go back and time and ask who's fucking bright idea was it to stick all the bass and other low register instruments completely on the right fucking side of the theater with zero compensation on the other? RIP to the people on the left side I guess, fucking ridiculous here please enjoy my proposed solution

FUCK YEAH WAY BETTER

[goingoutofourminds]

the signs as things my orchestra director has said/done

Aries: this is a can-can, not a can-cannot.

Taurus: [stands on top of box, imitating shia labeouf] JUST DO IT.

Gemini: [talking to the double bass] this is what you sounded like just now. [projects screaming goat videos on the whiteboard]

Cancer: [signs everyone's field trip permission slips as 'l.v. beethoven']

Leo: IF YOU PLAY A C-NATURAL, YOU'LL MAKE JESUS CRY. DON'T MAKE JESUS CRY.

Virgo: YOU ARE NOT AMERICAN IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN STAR WARS.

Libra: [projects LOTR memes on the whiteboard during practice]

Scorpio: i want us to do the '1812 overture.' only instead of using cannons, we bring out the potato guns.

Sagittarius: [on the correct way to pronounce 'l'chaim'] IT NEEDS MORE PHLEGM.

Capricorn: 'sounding like butt' is actually a very highly technical musical term.

Aquarius: BE AS PASSIONATE ABOUT YOUR MUSIC AS THESE PEOPLE ARE. [projects 'gangnam style' on the whiteboard]

Pisces: [points dramatically at the first chair violin] LEMME 'SPLAIN YOU A THING.

[qwertyisqueen]

The One Who’s Behind the Slaughter???

context below

Context: My school’s orchestra has recently decided to split us based on skill level into two separate bands, each lead by one of our two directors. This wouldn’t be a problem, if tuba parts were actually divided based on skill and not seniority, but that doesn’t matter. (My teacher explicitly told us that tuba players were divided by seniority since we all have pretty much the same skill level) (Our skill level being ‘taught how to play the scales and thrust into playing full time’) (I used to play flute I don’t know how I got here)

For some reason, the band teacher that is in charge of the ‘easier band’ uses classical music for our warm ups, leading to nuggets of gold like this.

[regtheviolin]

I don't know the point of playing violin and bass anymore. I work so hard on a song and it's over in minutes. No one I know understands, all my classmates in orchestra do it cause of their parents and they don't care.

[rivenantiqnerd]

*cellos desperately running back to grab rockstops*

[thecornerofegg]

The biggest problems of being in choires and orchestras are that youll perpetually have the songs stuck in your head, and they will loop like in rehearsals when something just cant be gotten right and the conductor is spending 5 minutes on one phrase

Speaking from oh so much personal experience

EDIT: spending 5 minutes on one phrase is SUCH an understatement. More accurately it's 20 minutes on one and a half phrases

[loonylooly]

Um so me and my orchestra friends just personified our Violas (and we're working on our rosins) so far we have My viola, Vivienne, who's a...stoner opera singer? And then we have Vincenzo whos a very...booktok-y italian butcher..?? And then we have Vladamir and he's a Romanian poet?? Oh and Vincenzo and Vladamir are boyfriends. There's also Victor 1 and Victor 2 who coincidentally got named the same thing and they're both in a love triangle with Vivienne.

[hamsterrodent]

Two sides of the coin (I think).

[cocatgaming12]

Okay I don’t know if this is just me but I listened to 3 O’clock Things and honestly the whole song gave me Neotheater vibes even though it’s an OK Orchestra song. From the lyrics taking a deeper look at actions from the past to the old timey sounding backing vocals to just the overall feel of the song. It gave Neotheater.

[pensivespacepirate]

(guy who is obsessed with eskew voice) wow this is just like i am in eskew

[ultimateyakazoo]

I LOVE MY JOB!!!! I LOVE MY LIFE!!!!!

[locatislunaticolupin]

Day Two: Cat

Written for day two of @remadoramicrofics. 785 words. Also available on Ao3.

Teddy had learned how to stand by clinging to the fur of their long-suffering probably-mix-with-a-German shepherd Tammuz, who also took on the job of teaching him how to walk, stepping carefully and barely wincing at the little hands tugging on his hair or the little feet stepping on his paws. Once, when Remus and Dora had been cuddled up on the sofa, hands intertwined, Remus' face in her hair and muscles at the ready in case Teddy slipped or Tammuz shook him off, Dora had made the obvious joke and, having caught him unawares, got a belly laugh out of him.

Teddy and the dogs played together, slept together and, much to Remus' dismay, jumped into every puddle and muddy surface they came across together. He was often covered in dog hair and slobber, and dogs in the village approached him to sniff or growl at him. Teddy did it back to them, which resulted in endless teasing from Dora ("that's all you, that's your son"). Remus laughed and chuckled and playfully pushed her towards a trough or swung Teddy between them, happiness prickling his eyes, squeezing his chest.

(His friends had been like that, too. A joke, a wink and a laugh, a furry little problem or the moon making him go a little loony. Dora made him feel fifteen again, made him reckless and loving. She also made him feel the laugh lines, the crow's feet, the delight in knowing they were there because he'd been happy and was happy now and that, if James and Sirius and Peter couldn't have them, had died too young, too troubled, he at least could keep their memory alive in this happiness engraved on his body, in the mischief and love he found in Dora and Teddy).

One day, after a storm much like the one that had led Tammuz and his sister to the cottage, they found a family of cats that had made the shed their home. The mom had been feeding her kittens when they moved the rake and she had hissed at them, looking exhausted but ferocious. Remus had frozen and Dora, who had spent the night pouring over files of a recent case and was running on coffee and her husband's goodwill, had hissed right back at her. They took the rake and the stairs and didn't take the gardening gloves the cat had made her nest on, and left her to it with a charm to keep the dogs away.

It was nearing noon, the sun on their backs and Teddy raiding the fig and mulberry trees, trying to find a fruit the parrots or the rain hadn't gotten to yet, when Remus brought it up.

"You hissed."

"Of course I did, was I supposed to let her get away with it?"

Remus chuckled, Dora faked offense and Teddy shook the branch he had a hold on, raining mulberries on them.

They forgot about the cats until it started nearing sundown and the wind began to pick up, howling through the trees. The cottage creaked around them, all doors having already been slammed, and they stood close to the hearth, a brilliant fire snapping and sputtering, snip-snap-whoosh, as if defying the wind outside. Teddy, Tammuz at his back, seemed hypnotized by it, so Remus crouched next to him, big hand on littlest back, to make sure he wouldn’t get too close. Dora, with their probably-mix-with-Greyhound Bongui (neé Bongo) at her feet, kept looking up from the files on the living room table and towards the windows, through the shutters.

Remus’ soft “Dora?” got her out of her seat, wand in hand and out the door, Bongui on her heels. His first instinct was to follow them, but Teddy’s “mama?” stopped him, had him feeling for his wand. He kept his hand on Teddy’s back, looking out the black hole of their door. Tammuz had stayed too, and Remus was glad for his loyalty. He jumped when he heard clatter —that had come from the shed, hadn't it?— and was about to Apparate when he saw Dora running back, a bundle in her arms that Bongui kept trying to get to and words she should definitely not be teaching Teddy echoing in her steps. This time he did get up and lead her inside, closed the shutters against the wind before turning towards her. Bongui was circling her, excited about their adventure. Remus held her back when she jumped and, from Dora’s arms, mama cat, cozy on their gardening gloves, hissed and growled and spitted at her and at them, her nails and her kittens’ destroying Dora’s sweater.

Close to the fire, Teddy hissed back at her.

[crossedwithblue]

fuck

[regtheviolin]

Pov: not being able to practice double bass since you borrow one from school

[rivenantiqnerd]

yall my crush said his type is people who are smarter than him and also musicians and that perfectly describes me soo