In grad school, I saw something I never thought I'd witness. Every pianist's worst nightmare.
Having a memory slip in a concerto performance with orchestra.
It was the third movement of the Schumann piano concerto. In a particularly hairy section, the young woman had a memory slip, couldn't get back on, and stopped playing entirely.
Then the orchestra stopped.
Total silence on stage...
Ten seconds passed, but it felt like an hour. There were gasps and murmurs throughout the packed hall.
The pianist went back to the beginning of the section, and by some miracle the orchestra knew exactly where to come in on the conductor's cue.
When the pianist arrived at the fatal memory slip passage, it started happening again...wrong notes clashed against the orchestra like nails on a chalkboard.
The pianist and orchestra were being held together by bubble gum and duct tape...but they managed to push through and make it to the end of the concerto this time.
While this was on a grand scale, we've all had moments like this. Where we bomb a performance, or part of a performance, despite our best efforts.
But I like to reframe it as a badge of honor. You've now become a member of the Bomb Club.
When you become part of this elite group, you have a story to tell for the rest of your life. A story that other people can learn from...especially yourself.
You also have a story to remind people that everyone is human.
Personally, when I see a performance bomb, I see it as a beautiful reflection of our humanity. Nobody is perfect. Things happen.
That's part of the thrill of live performance, isn't it?
It's like watching a tightrope walker. And if someone didn't fall once in a while (minus the death part, but I think you gathered that...), then what fun would it be?
I remember the memory slip concerto more vividly than 95% of the other "flawless" concertos I've watched live. And for better or worse, that means something.
The Bomb Club...leading by example since the beginning of time...
