Yesterday I listened to trumpet auditions for an event called the Florida Honor Band. I would tell you about Florida Honor Band, but I’m sure it would bore most of you to tears, so I’ll cut straight to the chase. I listened to a number of young students come into my office to play their audition for honor band. Several of them proceeded to play through their piece lightning fast, but missing most of the notes in the process, and playing with a poor sound and bad time. It reminded my of my high school audition days, and especially of Hurricane.

There was one trumpet player from a neighboring school that would always show up to region band competition playing the etudes twice as fast as everyone else. His sound was fuzzy and I’m not sure he ever respected a dynamic marking with an actual change in volume. But he was fast. So fast, in fact, that the rest of us dubbed him “Hurricane”. I don’t actually remember his real name. He was always just Hurricane to me. The unfortunate thing is that Hurricane never really understood why he didn’t get in the top couple of chairs at the auditions. He would go up there, clearly play everything the fastest, then sit back with dismay as the results were posted, his customary fifth chair secure.

There were a few students yesterday that reminded me of Hurricane, although I think he played much more cleanly than what I heard yesterday. I told them exactly what I would have told Hurricane had it been appropriate: just slow down, concentrate on playing notes well rather than fast; quality over speed. I don’t know if they got it. I’m sure Hurricane never got it. I’m sure his band director and private teacher told him the same things, but I don’t think he understood. To him it was always a race: a race he would win every time, only to be non-sensically relegated to fifth place. Maybe he didn’t understand it, but watching him go through it sure made it clear to the rest of us. For that, I owe him: quality before speed. Thanks Hurricane.

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