木瓜影院

The Ellington Experience
by Erica Lohr

I remember sitting in the band room at Sun Prairie High School, it was second block, Wind Ensemble, I was in my chair with my tenor saxophone in my hand. We were separated into three circles, our so called “mini-bands”, and each band had just finished playing the excerpt of the piece we were told to rehearse. After each band played, we clapped and conversed about what went well and what we wanted to improve on, both in our mini-bands and what we wanted to take when we combined into our larger ensemble. The middle school band teacher had come in that day and was rehearsing us through the day, all while our band director at the high school was in his office. Little did I, or the other members of the band, know the exciting news that was being discussed in that office, while my director spoke on the phone.

Towards the end of class, our band director walks out of his office and starts speaking to us, it almost felt like a lecture. But, fortunately, it wasn’t.

Fast forward to the end of his talk, he calmly said, “I just got off the phone; jazz one has been invited to the Essentially Ellington Competition and Festival in May”.

He said it so nonchalantly, he was so calm, he didn’t yell or anything. I had to replay it in my head again.
And then it hit. It hit all of us in the room at once. We started screaming, clapping, hugging, and none of us could stop smiling. Everyone in the room was excited鈥攖he directors, the band members, the non-band members, everyone.

Three months later, it was time to go. Everyone arrived at the school at three in the morning. We put our luggage against the wall and headed over to our seats, all chatting away with one another. Our director introduced us to our chaperones, handed us our plane tickets, and we loaded the bus, en route to the Milwaukee airport. The moon was still shining and the world around us was asleep, but we were all awake, excited to embark on this journey.

We arrived at the airport, checked our luggage, and walked in our herd over to our gate. Parting ways in our little groups, we got breakfast, took pictures, and anxiously waited for our plane to board. The sun was starting to rise, pink, purple, and orange all mixed together, shining over our airplane.

We boarded the plane, found our seats, situated ourselves, and the plane took off. Three sleepy, laughter-filled, and nerve-wracking hours later, we were in New York City.

The first day in the city was all about exploring. We traveled to numerous tourists’ spots throughout the city, checked into our hotel, and had an authentic, New York Italian meal. The next day, the festival started.

“And now, from Sun Prairie, Wisconsin, the Sun Prairie High School Jazz Ensemble!” The whole event was being recorded, some of it even being livestreamed to viewers. When they called our name, our band walked down the stairs and through the cheer tunnel of other musicians, mentors, family members, professionals, and so many more people who were genuinely excited for us to have this experience. The carpet was bright red, velvety, it felt like a movie.

The next two days were filled with rehearsals, sectionals, clinics, and overall great musical experiences. We practiced improvisation, listening, and found new ways to add even more to the music we had prepared. We worked with members from the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra who were kind, inspiring, critical, and just genuinely good people who wanted to help us become better musicians. Each band was assigned one person from JALCO who was to work with us in whatever way we needed them. Our mentor was Camille Thurman, reed player and vocalist. I remember sitting in our rehearsal with her as our director and being terrified. There were a few moments when she was talking to the band or our section, but I still felt singled out. I didn’t know if I truly belonged there. But I knew it was all for the best鈥攕he was there to help prepare our band to be the best we could be while we were performing at the competition. These two days were aimed to prepare us for our performance, which came sooner than any of us could’ve expected. All of a sudden, our performance was the next day.

It was May 10th, 2019. I was sitting in the audience, along with the rest of my band, in the seats of Jazz at Lincoln Center. I looked up at the stage, the gleaming lights, the quiet murmur of the rest of the audience surrounded me. The previous day was the first day of the competition, with a portion of the bands performing that night. While watching the bands perform, it still hadn’t occurred to me that, tomorrow, I was going to be on that stage. But, all of a sudden, it was today. From all the bands that we had watched, I was incredibly inspired. As a member of the audience, I was feeling the beat, feeling the music, and had an empowering feeling of inspiration. All I hoped was that I could be a part of that, that I could have that effect while I was playing with my band. I wanted to inspire, I wanted to take this whole experience in and just have fun with the music that I’ve grown to love. So, as I sat in the audience on the day of our performance, I remember thinking, that’s going to be me in just a couple of short hours and, honestly, it still hadn’t hit me yet. I listened excitedly as I grooved with the band on the stage, the audience clapped and roared at the end of each inspiring performance. My band got up and left the audience, it was almost our time to shine. We headed to our practice room, got our instruments, the items we cherished so much, and started to warm up. From the buzz of the mouthpieces, to the squeaks of the reeds, the moment was about to begin. We were called to head over to backstage, and when we arrived, our hearts were beating out of our chests (at least mine was). Steve, our band director, told us to take a few deep breaths. In and out, in and out. I looked at the watch on my wrist, my heartbeat was out of this world. And then, our name was called. “And now, from Sun Prairie, Wisconsin, please welcome Steve Sveum and the Sun Prairie High School Jazz Ensemble!” It was the moment my whole music career had led up to.

I remember being in fifth grade going to the music room where I was going to choose which instrument I would play for the rest of my career. I tried each and every mouthpiece, even percussion, and, after days of debating, I decided on the saxophone. I played alto saxophone all throughout sixth grade, but when I moved to Sun Prairie, my director asked if I would want to switch to the tenor saxophone. I tried it out and immediately fell in love with the instrument even more. When I first started playing the saxophone, I didn’t even know about jazz music or the opportunities that would lie ahead. I remember squeaking every time I blew through the instrument. I remember forgetting how to read the music or which finger I was supposed to push down for each note. I didn’t know if I was ever going to be good. But I persevered, and each day, week, month, and year I improved, farther than I ever thought possible. I kept advancing in my skills and, all of a sudden, I was a member of the Jazz One Ensemble. Our jazz ensemble had a legacy, we had been to this competition about fifteen other times, I wasn’t supposed to be in this band, it must be a mistake. But, somehow, I was. So, I dedicated each and every day to practicing. Practicing by playing, listening, reading, and just getting to know the music. All that practicing had contributed to our ensemble which was picked, for a reason, to be a part of this competition.

Standing backstage, I remembered back to a year ago. Last year, I was sitting in the audience with Jordan and my mom. We clapped as our high school’s name was called, we were there to cheer them on. The whole time, sitting in that audience, all I could think about was being on that stage. I was eager to improve and, hopefully, become a member of that band and be on that stage next year.

And here I was. Our band walked out onto the stage. Rhythm section first, then saxophones, trombones, and lastly, the trumpets. We all got situated鈥攑ut our music out, expanded our saxophone stands, raised our microphone to the mouth of our instruments. And all of a sudden, Sveum started the count off. Snapping his fingers, whispering us encouraging words as we all started to feel the swing in our souls and started to tap our heels. We were ready. Four months of preparation had led up to this moment.

The first note was played. And all of a sudden it was over. The whole thing was a blur. I remember the band swinging, the audience clapping, and all the emotions that went through my head. A couple times I felt like crying. I couldn’t believe that I, Erica Lohr, from Sun Prairie, Wisconsin, a mediocre tenor saxophone player, was performing on the stage of Jazz at Lincoln Center. I’m surprised I was able to focus on the music despite all the feelings I was feeling.

The audience roared, we stood up and took our bows and walked off the stage. It was the best experience of my life; it still didn’t feel real. My heart was still pumping, sweat was still formed on my face, and my mind couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

That performance changed my life. Suddenly, it became clear that this is what my music career had led me to; it was all meant to be in this moment. All the practicing, hardships, long days, chapped lips, dizzy spells from running out of breath. All the private lessons, sitting in the practice rooms alone, annoying my family by practicing in my room, it was all meant to be in this moment. The lessons I’d learned from the beginning of my music career had all payed off. No matter what the outcome would be, I was humbled, excited, and proud to be the musician I had become; I had just performed on the stage of Jazz at Lincoln Center in New York City, and nobody could ever take that away from me.