This is the prologue to the book I'm writing this summer. Sorry if it's a bit rough. Enjoy!!!
The packet came for a Mr. John Luis one quiet Kansas morning at the end of August. It concerned news of the TMC advanced musical group, which had recently completed another cycle of the competitive band. He did not care for reading about the success of the students of other teachers; he was concerned only with the last page in the packet: the audition form for the next year’s Nation Wide Band.
Merit. Honor. Supreme bragging rights. These things and numerous others represented the privilege to participate in the Titanic Musician’s Corps of the U.S.A. Funded by the prestigious Pre-Professional Musicians Association, the TMC brought together the finest high school musicians from around the nation to play together in an ensemble that directors envied. At the core of it, the TMC was just a summer band camp, but the competition posed as fierce, the pieces presented as Herculean challenges, and every serious band geek in America wanted in.
To those not in the band, a nation wide band composed of dorky high schoolers does not seem glamorous, but to those who it concerned, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Ten weeks of intensive music training prepared the students to be nearly-professional musicians, and college representatives practically lined up at each students doorstep with a school to sell and scholarships to give. To aspiring musicians, a chance to jump-start their career could not be passed up.
Unfortunately, the majority of the applicants never received the recognition as among the best in the nation, even though they were the best in their respective states. Out of over 8,000 applicants, only 160 were admitted into the wind ensemble each year. The Audition Committee had to choose those 160 musicians by splitting hairs, but the end result was a gathering of the prime of America’s musical youth.
Because of the massive number of applicants, the Audition Committee constructed a way to narrow down the applicants as quickly as possible. Each person who auditioned had to send in three tapes: one of the requested solo, another of a requested cadenza, and a third piece of their choice that was under five minutes. The first solo was a mere eight measures long. During this part, about forty percent of the students were denied admittance to the program. The cadenza was difficult, as well, and tone and speed were necessary to play it. It was a page long, but the students only had twenty five seconds to play it. It did not seem fair, but the Committee needed to narrow down the students fast. There was no reconsidering a first impression. After the cadenza audition, there were 1000 musicians to judge a third time. This part of the auditioning took the longest, for at this level of advancement, every student seemed to be on the same caliber. The process was no longer weeding people out of the program as it was hand-picking those who would proceed.
The program itself was simple, compared to the grueling audition process. Students flew into New York City on Memorial Day weekend and settled in Julliard College. The first seven weeks were spent in intense rehearsals, private lessons, and theory classes. The next two weeks were spent in Europe, flaunting the best of America’s youth. The last week was spent in the States, on a concert tour of the east coast. This program was not for the weak at heart; no ordinary band geek could get in.
Even though the odds were daunting, tapes came flying in from around the country. Practically every band director, music professor, and private instructor knew of the program, and every year they encouraged their most prized students to enter. Mr. Luis, after reflecting on the competitive nature of the program decided that this year, he would enter one of his students: Astra Stavros. A soft-spoken trombone player, Astra did not qualify to audition her freshman year. But as a sophomore, and a talented low brass musician, Mr. Luis thought that she stood a fighting chance for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
She was not thrilled to audition (as she was not thrilled to do any type of performance), but sent in her three tapes to humor her teacher. With no expectations of making the band, she forgot about its existence entirely. So, one can imagine the nonchalant manner she posed when she received a letter from the Pre-Professional Musicians Association in late January.
