When I was a piano student I began participating in music festivals. Since then, the festival has had a constant place in my life as a participant in piano, vocals and spoken word; as a parent; committee member; volunteer; and accompanist.
The roots of the festival in this province run deep, more than 100 years actually. Canada’s Governor General, Earl Grey, proposed a Canada-wide festival for music and drama. Only two provinces responded; Saskatchewan and Alberta. Consider those early visionaries. Our province was officially only three years old at the time, yet there were individuals ready to establish a significant arts presence in this region and formed the Saskatchewan Music Festival Association.
I have been connected with three festivals over the years; Swift Current, Last Mountain and the Outlook & District Music Festival. After so many years there are stories that bring laughter or some eye rolling.
The best memories include playing piano duets with my oldest daughter, or watching our youngest girl sing duets with dad. Then there are the numbers that stand out of young people we watched grow and develop into outstanding performers.
I remember the day in high school when my sister and I were in multiple classes in another community and the event was running very slowly. There should have been plenty of time for mom to bring my sister home and get me there for the afternoon, but with an eye on the clock my dad said we better start driving in the hopes of intercepting them somewhere on the highway. This was a time before cell phones so they didn’t know to watch for us—but somehow we connected and I made it in time to play.
Or the year I was in a sight reading class and all the competitors were supposed to be sequestered so we couldn’t hear anyone else play. Except the volunteer in charge of overseeing us let one of the students leave to go to the bathroom—where you could certainly hear a bit of muffled piano—and therefore got a sense of what others were playing. In a sight reading class you are supposed to go into it cold, meaning you haven’t seen or heard the selection prior to your few minutes to study it before you start to play. The girl that got to hear the others play it first, won the class. Not that I’m bitter or anything.
Then there was a girl I competed alongside countless times named Kathleen. She entered far more classes than anyone else, or so it seemed, and won them all. She was very good and was often the star of the festival.
One of the challenges of participating in the music festival is the compulsion to compare ourselves with others. The value in the whole experience is that you get to listen to an adjudicator comment on your performance: your strengths, ways to improve and challenges to set. But no sooner had the adjudicator given us all that wisdom to consider, we’d grab the comment sheet to see our grade—and promptly compare our mark to others. It’s so not the point. Yes, it’s a competition, but preparing for a music festival is about individual growth. It’s about taking compositions and working hard to get them ready to be adjudicated to assist in nurturing our development as musicians and performers. Yet that need to see how we ranked against others was compelling.
We always told our daughters that when it came to report cards, it was the words that mattered more than the numbers. We wanted to read the comments teachers took time to share because those gave a more complete picture of what was being learned and achieved. Yet how many times in my own life did I do exactly the opposite of that? How truly unfortunate.
It’s the work, the preparation and effort that go into it that has far greater impact than the result on one day of one event. I am a piano player, not because of results at a festival, but because of the work I have put into it since I was five years old. I don’t have the awards Kathleen does, but I can sit down at a piano and enjoy the experience very much. How could I ask for anything more? That’s my outlook.
