Give It A Rest!

If you have ever played in an orchestra, or have even watched closely during an orchestra concert, you know that there is often a lot of sitting around that goes on. Almost no one in the orchestra has to play all the time. One of an orchestra player’s essential skills, therefore, is to be able to count. I can hear you thinking, “Well, duhh, everyone learns to count by kindergarten. What are you talking about?”

Counting measures of rest (the parts where we don’t play) is what I mean, and unless we do it accurately we’re likely to start playing again at the wrong time, which can be very embarrassing (don’t ask me how I know this). Of course, one of the responsibilities of the conductor is to cue each player (or section, in the case of the strings, which are there in mob force) when it’s time for our entrance, so we could be lazy and wait for the cue. Not a good idea. We might come in on a cue meant for a player right behind us, or the conductor might get distracted by other concerns and forget the cue. It’s best to think of the cue just as assurance that we counted right.

One thing that makes counting harder than it seems is that it’s sort of double counting. We have to count the beats in each measure to know when one ends and the next begins, and we have to count the measures, too. This takes concentration, and it’s easy to get distracted by random thoughts unrelated to what’s going on, or by the beauty of the music.

If a rest lasts more than about eight measures, I generally count them on my fingers. I always felt like an idiot doing this and tried to conceal it, at least from the audience, but in a recent performance I shared a music stand with an excellent young violinist who told me she does the same thing. Besides, even counting on my fingers I’ve sometimes come in at the wrong time. I need all the help I can get, and then some.

Obviously, all this counting depends on knowing where the beat is. This is not always easy. Some musical passages don’t have a clearly defined beat. This is another thing the conductor is for, but some give a very well-defined beat and others sort of stand there and act the music out—“Beat? Beat? I don’t need to show you no steenkeeng beat!”

This may be fine for the New York Philharmonic, in fact they could probably give a passable performance with no conductor at all or, in some cases, in spite of him. A lesser group, probably not. We were recently led by a sparkly young Brazilian guest conductor whose beats and cues were unmistakable. She was on top of every aspect of the music and a real pleasure to work with. Just the kind of conductor we need, because the New York Phil we’re not.