Surprisingly, Luther's academic schedule works out nicely for LCSO's tour schedule. How our school year works is that we have one four-month fall semester, one January term (some people at other colleges/universities call it an interim), and another four-month spring semester (it's called a "4-1-4" schedule for short.)
If we aren't going to Vienna, LCSO will use "J-Break" (which happens during the final week of January) to tour domestically. This season, we toured the Lower Midwest (Kansas, Missouri, Lower Iowa), and I had the best time. I've never been out west before, so that was a new experience. I got to play in new places, and I got to spend time with what turned out to be some of my best friends. Now, I'm not saying that it was perfect because there were definitely times where I was not having fun. Touring can be hard work, I was homesick, and I lacked the privacy that I need as an introvert. But I wouldn't trade that for anything because I learned many important lessons. Here are a few of them:
1. For the love of God, PACK LIGHT!
An email stating to pack light came not long after I had finished packing. I felt lazy and ignored it. As part of the luggage crew, I had to handle everyone's (and my) luggage. I'm pretty sure my back isn't happy with me. When they say "pack a small carry-on sized suitcase or duffel bag", DO IT, because you will have to carry that, your instrument, your bus bag, and whatever else you decide to take with you, as well as your garment bag when everything is said and done.
2. You WILL get sick.
I am currently battling what seems to be a bit of a sinus infection. Because of the lack of sleep and the close proximity you have with your orchestra mates, getting sick is an inevitability, which kind of sucks because you have class as soon as you get back. Maybe downing yourself in Emergen-C or whatever will help, but even so, your time will come.
3. Despite what anyone says, Dr. Baldwin is, in fact, a human being.
There are multiple pictures that have been taken of him catching some shuteye in church pews and the very uncomfortable bus seats. He sometimes will provide a few words on the bus and will threaten offer to enlighten us with a sermon about the first chapter of Leviticus on the bus. Sometimes he'll decide to do an impersonation of Monty Python. It's whatever the man feels on a particular day.
He gets touched by senior talks. Still. He even started tearing up quite a bit during an emotional talk by one of our seniors when we asked him to say a few words.
The Silver Fox is pretty fearsome at first, with his towering stature and his gruff but booming Southern Accent (he's from South Carolina; we have many music profs from the South, but he's the only one from the Carolina's), but you get a few seconds to talk to him individually for the first time, and his eyes soften, his once rigid posture becomes malleable; you can literally see his utmost respect for you as his player as he aborbs every single word you squeak out (because you're nervous) and gives you a (very) long-winded answer back. Quite endearing, really.
Here's an example of this. Note that this is a transcription that is realized from my memory. Some of this may have gotten disorganized in my brain:
<Some unassuming flute player decides to ask Baldwin a question during a bus bonding exercise>
Flutist: Uh Mr. Dr. Baldwin, sir, during Paideia, along with reading and analyzing some texts, we also analyze some music. Normally we do Haydn's "Creation", but if you could design a lesson plan for a piece of music that you think pertains to the enduring question ("What makes us human/What does it mean to be human?") for Paideia, what would it be and why?
<collective bus murmurs of affirming mumbles, grunts, and "OOOOOOOOOHHH GOTTTEMMMMM's">
DB: Well, uh, see, that's a good question. Ah think that there are many wonderful works that could be analyzed to answer this... <goes off track musing about how many pieces there are that are good examples that he'd teach, and why would they choose "Creation" when there are so many that would also be good>, but Ah dew think, uh, that works by Puccini, Tosca <collective bus mumbles of approval>, Rossini, Verdi, Wagnuh <exhausts his possibilities>... yeh, those operas are wonderful examples to answer this question of what it means to be human.
4. Respect the LCSO tour traditions.
From singing grace before meals (I try and keep my religion to myself, but singing it made it a bit more palatable), to singing our thanks to our hosts who provided the food; from "doot-doot-doot-<pause>-DOO-DOO-DOOT-'GET TO KNOW YOU!'" to "Bread Time" to awards, there are many valued traditions from tours past and new traditions were made.
5. Your orchestra-mates care about you.
One day, towards the middle of tour, I had a bit of a meltdown. A bunch of small annoyances, the stress of the coming semester and missing the first day of classes, and not having any privacy got to me, and I broke down in a puddle of tears after rehearsal. Not only were my section mates very understanding and supportive of me, but some people cared enough to ask if everything was alright because they had seen me eating supper in tears. Even Baldwin had pulled me aside and asked if I was doing okay. Looking back, I am touched by how many people cared enough to check up on me.
6. The homestays are amazing!
Of the six days I was on tour, I stayed five nights in homestays (I had a hotel night the second night). Each host provided at least a snack and a bit of breakfast, and I was able to sleep in a warm bed for the night. I was lucky in that all my homestays were friendly and I was especially lucky to have had a diverse group of hosts. My first night, I stayed with a gay couple who had children. When I was in Kansas, I stayed with a grandmotherly figure named Dorothy (!!!), who had her house decorated in lots of blues and had many pictures of her ever-growing family. In St. Louis, I stayed with a fun couple who had me and my quad in stitches. In Des Moines, the lady we were with was a Luther grad and we swapped stories of our antics at Luther (I think we convinced her to come back to Luther for a visit), and in Bettendorf, we stayed with a lady who made a mean batch of chocolate chip cookies. In the short time I've had with each of my homestays, my mind opened as each host told their stories.
7. Rest stops are interesting.
When we were on the road, the buses made stops every hour and a half or so, so people could relieve themselves or stretch their legs. Some of the rest stops we stopped at were unassuming. Some of them were... interesting. For example, on our way to St. Louis, we stopped at this truck stop that also had a tattoo parlor in it, which I found interesting.
8. Going without your J-Break sucks. A lot.
I knew that touring meant that I would not be able to go home during our January Break and that I would not be able to go home for about two and a half months. Getting up at five in the morning, having to travel hours on end by bus and not being able to sleep, and living amongst people who were just as stressed as I was made me feel REALLY homesick (Yes, freshpeople, you *can* get homesick after your freshman year; don't think that homesickness vanishes into thin air after freshman year). But the fact that my semester is a little shorter gives me comfort in that I get to go home for spring break in about a month.
9. Even though living out of a suitcase among about eighty other people is hard, it is so, so worth it.
If you haven't realized already, I'm not suggesting that touring is perfect-- there are times when touring can be pretty stressful. But really, it's a priceless experience to go different places, get closer with your orchestra mates, and play music for total strangers; you never know whose lives will be changed because of the music you play-- it may even be your own...
And now, for a word of appreciation to my dudes of the LCSO:
To you seniors that will be leaving us at the end of the year: I became close with a few of you. Thank you for sharing your wisdom with me and for taking me under your wing. Best of luck to you and know that you can always come home to the LCSO.
To my fluties (Rachel and Lauren): Thank you so much for putting up with me and for making sure I never felt left behind. I have so much to say about the two of you, but that's a story for another time. Just.... Thank you for accepting me as I am.
To the "grown-ups" of the tour: Thank you for making sure we were safe and provided for. Thank you for making this tour a lot of fun and worth missing our breaks for. Y'all were the best and I'm so thankful to get to know each of you.
To Dr. Baldwin: You are the fearless leader with a good heart. Thank you for your insights and sensitivity as we delve into big works with even bigger feelings.
To the LCSO: Thank you for providing me with the college family that I've always wanted. Each of you is so important to me, and I love every one of you. Thank you for your music, and thank you for your companionship. I love you all.
Now... GET SOME!!!
