This past Sunday I performed in a concert in which I was the featured soloist. The concert raised funds for an apartment building's gardening committee and, as I wasn't paid for it myself, I decided to rehash some old material for it. An easy piece I added to the program was a sonata by boismortier which my accompanist, Alan, and I sight read through a few weeks before the show. Okay, not the smartest decision I've ever made.
The day of the concert I was a little apprehensive. Alan had me keep his part of the boismortier because he thought it was vey sight-readable (it was). Had I given him the music, I wouldn't have been so apprehensive about the piece, but would he have practiced it anyway? Although I had my part for two weeks, I admit I only looked at it twice before the show.
The performance itself was pretty entertaining. After I missed a breath in the boismortier, you could hear some of the ladies gasping as my face turned a dark shade of purple. Another great moment came when when Alan, not knowing my cadenza, mistimed his entry in the final bars of the Allegro in the Mozart bassoon concerto, entering very boldly while I was in the middle of my cadenza. He immediately realized something wasn't right and stopped, to which I replied with a very strong ascending arpeggio and cadential trill.
Most of the pieces began with a joke (Alan's signature move) and everyone seemed thoroughly pleased with the afternoon.
Although I wasn't incredibly pleased with my performance, I was amazed to see how well people reacted to the whole event. That's showbiz, I guess.