XLVI

667 50 12
                                    

He had to pinch himself as they found their way backstage. 
Oh my God. Was he really, actually going backstage in the Sydney opera house? Or was this some dream? And who would they meet there? 
He allowed himself just a moment of daydreaming as they walked through the main hall towards a little door all the way in the back, picturing in his mind's eye how someone backstage would hand him a violin in just a minute, would ask him to play something and somehow, miraculously, even though he hadn't played for a couple of days and his fingers were still stiff from climbing the rock he would sail it, and he would be applauded, and he would be told he was the next great thing...
Yeah, that'd be nice. 

Hilariously, once you did get back there and for all the opulence of front of house, it was the same as any other theatre he had ever seen. Concrete halls, drab brown floor. He, Brett and Ian followed Todd, who seemed to have a good idea of where he was going, almost meekly. They passed through a hall with "ladies make up" spray painted on the concrete and Todd turned right until the hallway opened up into a small foyer with a view over the bay on the left. 
"Hey!" A jovial looking man in his thirties with ash blonde hair walked towards them with his hand out. "You must be Todd?"
Todd nodded and shook the hand. 
"Kevin? Nice to meet you, thank you so much for having us here!"
"Sure, no worries." Kevin drawled. "Come on back."
Eddy looked around him surreptitiously, trying desperately to look like he belonged here, like he wasn't just a little kid, like he actually knew what he was doing. 
Sort of. 

Moments later they had sat down by the window overlooking the water and he was hanging on Kevin's every word, as he told them about the audition process to get into the orchestra, the work schedule, the famous conductors and soloists... it all sounded fantastic, but also very, very daunting. 
"It's not easy, to get in, it's a bit different than something like a youth orchestra." Kevin said then, looking very serious suddenly, almost stern. "There's musicians who come from all over the country to try out, sometimes a hundred or two for one spot. Once you do win the right to audition at all you play behind a screen, so the jury can't see who you are. A Mozart first movement, usually, and several exerpts. There are several rounds and you can very easily drop out of each one and just be sent home. Also... everyone who auditions here at all is already a great violinist, often with years of experience abroad under their belt. I'll be honest: it's brutal."
Oh! 
It was like someone had thrown a thick woolly blanket over the group, Eddy had never seen them this quiet. He felt like all the air had been sucked out of him and he stared out the window for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe. But it was Todd who recovered first, of course. 
"So... it doesn't help if they know you already?"
Kevin shook his head. 
"Nah, not really. Sometimes you can get a temporary contract for a season or part of a season. That way you can get some experience, you can learn how the orchestra works and what kind of sound and musical approach they are looking for. But during the audition you still have to show them, from behind that screen."
"Wow." Todd managed and Kevin grinned. 
"Look, I'm not trying to put you off here, you're clearly all talented musicians and I'm sure you'll do great things. It just... well, I guess I'm telling you the things I wish someone had told me when I was eighteen. It took me about ten years post-graduation and several trips abroad for summer schools and intensive, expensive lessons with teachers in Europe to finally get here."

Everything had taken on a different tone. The carpet was drabber and the concrete walls seemed to come closer, converging on him, threatening to suffocate him. 
He remembered seeing Kevin, on the stage with the other cellists, but really he had only had eyes for the first violins. For the first couple of desks. He had been so confident, and now? 
He felt like he had been hit by a wrecking ball. 



Andante con BrioWhere stories live. Discover now