.gif)
Okay, where was I? Ah yes, I had just arrived back at my flat at 1:30am pumped full of Vicodin for my fractured pelvis with downbeat for the Brandenburg in nine hours. No problem.
The next morning my wife drove me to Orchestra Hall and helped me get inside with all of my stuff. This task was made a great deal more interesting by the fact that this was her first time driving a car with a stick shift. Nice way to learn, don’t you think? Nothing like cruising through downtown Chicago just hoping like hell that you make it through that next traffic light without having to stop.
Once we were safely inside the hall I began warming up and seeing what in the world was going to come out my bell. I tried to stand and play as normal, but as soon as I started to play, I started to pass out. Better try sitting. That, much to my surprise, felt okay, so I proceeded to warm up and get ready to go play. Unfortunately that peace of mind did not last particularly long. On a whim, Pinchas had decided that he would really like to go ahead and change the order for the rehearsal. He decided that Brandenburg 2 should really be done now, rather than after one of the other Brandenburg Concertos on the program. Okay, I guess my warm up is done, time to go.
As soon as the call came over the speaker, I began the process of packing up and getting myself upstairs. Unfortunately, the quick jaunt up the stairs had turned into a long hobble down the hallway and an even longer trip up the freight elevator. By the time I managed to claw my way onto stage, my wife brandishing my piccolo trumpet behind me, the orchestra was already playing the first movement of the Concerto. As I arrived the orchestra gradually stopped playing, one person at a time, as they watched in shock as I worked my way across the stage on my crutches. By the time I got to my waiting chair, it was dead silent on stage. I sat down, tried to find room for my crutches between my chair and the cellos, and then took my horn. The next moment is one that will remain etched in my brain for the rest of my days, for it was the moment I first met Pinchas Zukerman, and it happened in a truly unorthodox way. He looked down the line of soloists with a look of pity and curiosity, but mostly curiosity and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah”, I replied, “I think so.”
Then, with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, he announced, “Okay, let’s take it from the top.”
From that point on, I felt surprisingly comfortable. The rehearsal went well and I was off and running into what has to be the most rewarding week of my entire career. At the concerts, the flutist would carry my instrument onto the stage for me as I did my best to be as graceful as one can be while nursing a fractured pelvis on a pair of crutches. I would play the Brandenburg, hobble offstage and down to the dressing room, and change into concert black for Soldier’s Tale (we were doing a staged production with actors and dancers. In fact, John Mahoney — Frazier’s Dad in the hit TV show Frazier — played the role of the narrator!). After changing clothes I would grab my single gig bag with my C cornet in it and make my way back up to stage for the Stravinsky. If everything went smoothly, I would even have enough time to play a couple of notes before the second half started. Needless to say, this was not at all how I had planned it, but like everything else that week: it worked out.
To me, the culminating experience of the whole week occurred at one of the last concerts, just prior to the Brandenburg. At some point during the week the flutist, Richard Graef, cut himself on his head. It wasn’t a bad cut, but it didn’t go unnoticed by our inimitable oboist, Alex Klein. As we were lining up to go on stage, Alex reflected on a problem he had been having with his shoulder, looked at Richard with his cut, me with my crutches, and pronounced, “I’ve got it, we can go out as the walking wounded! We can get a big bandage for Richard’s cut, I can get a sling for my arm, Craig has his crutches, and Pinchas can go out with his VIOLA!” I very nearly fell out of said crutches onto the floor laughing. Any time you can sum up so much work (laced with so much adversity) with a viola joke, then you know you have found nirvana.
Fantastic story Craig!