SPOILER ALERT- I may be giving away some details here, so if you're planning to see this movie, go see it and then come back and read this.

My husband and I went to see the movie "Black Swan" earlier this evening.  It tells the story of a ballerina named Nina who comes unhinged while trying to conquer the duel roles of Odette and Odile in Swan Lake.  Outside of the entertainment value of the film (sex, drugs and insanity) is a very interesting premise.  How can we stretch ourselves as artists to meet the demands of the repertoire we dream of performing?  I may never have had full on hallucinations as a result of the stress of being a performing artist, but I could certainly relate to Nina's basic issues; competition among peers, the inner drive to be perfect, the attempt to expand beyond the limitations of my own personality.  It's a lot to sort through. 
For years, I was told my playing was "boxed in."  It was pretty, technically acute but lacked any sense of risk and daring.  Three years under the baton of Michael Tilson Thomas helped considerably, but I still have to constantly push myself to get out of my box.  I like the box, it's comfy and safe in there.  Unfortunately, it can also be quite boring.  Which is why I need to keep taking risks, be they musical, emotional or otherwise.
My latest risk?  Opening the curtain.  I've decided to do a series of videos showing my process as I learn Bill Douglas' Sonata for Oboe and Piano.  People see us on stage and think our performances are these magical events that we conjure up with our endless talent.  We can tell them we practice for hours, but that still doesn't seem to do the trick.  I figured a highlights video might convey some of the effort behind those seemingly effortless performances.  To make this project truly honest, I think I may have to reveal a bit more of my thought process than normal.  I want to dig beyond the mechanics and reveal some of the emotional structure that has to be built.  I'm not sure yet how I'm going to do that, but I think it will be interesting to see how it develops. 

I didn't advance at all in this year's YouTube Symphony audition.  It was a bit tough to take because I felt I submitted a much better audition video than I did the last time around.  It wasn't perfection in a can, but it was definitely better than my last effort  when I was designated as an alternate to the finalists. 
The finalists videos will be posted tomorrow and I'm really curious to see who they picked.  My guess is that the people who advanced may have had some different musical ideas or a different sound concept from me. So often, in auditions you feel you've played really well.  When you don't succeed you need to evaluate what could have been been better and accept the idea that there are many concepts of how things should be.  It's very possible that the judges are looking for something different than what you have to offer.  It's disappointing when that's the case and you've invested time and energy into something.  However, I wouldn't want it any other way.
I don't want there to be only one right way because if it gets to that point it's no longer an art form.  It becomes a sport. 
I've performed the English horn solo in Pines of Rome many times.  Last season, we did it in Sarasota and I was playing second oboe while Michael Austin played the solo.  It was cool to hear his interpretation because it was completely different from what I normally chose to do.  I thought his interpretation was incredibly effective.  Yet I would never have thought to play it that way.  Both of our interpretations are valid, they're just very different.  Thank goodness for that.  If everyone played the same way it would be sooooo boring! 
So tomorrow, I'll check out the YouTube finalists and see what they did differently from me.  If there's something I particularly like, I'll probably adopt some of it into my interpretation.  On the other hand, I may not love what I hear and that's OK too.  The point is that we can be different and we can have opinions and ideas that contradict one another.  It's part of the reason music is so wonderful.

One of the reasons I love running races is that they're charity fundraising events.  I first became interested in running when I attended the Run for the Turtles in Sarasota.  I was a member of the Mote at the time, and wanted to support their research.  I signed up for the one mile fun walk because I knew there was no way I could run a 5K.  Heck, I wasn't even sure I could walk a 5K.  Instead of running, I took the liesurly approach and meandered down Siesta Key beach picking up shells and looking at the scenery.  Then I waited at the finish to cheer on the runners and watched in awe as several of my friends from the orchestra came flying across the finish line.  I started to wonder if I might be able to run a 5K someday too. 
Two years later, I'm aiming for a half marathon in 2011.  Perhaps I'll even do a marathon one day.  So far, I've run 5 races, the longest being my five mile Turkey Trot last week.  That's five charities I wouldn't have contributed to otherwise.  Some charities were local, like the Ivoryton Public Library, others were national, including the Leukemia Foundation.  Now I'm signed up for a Jingle Bell Jog in Prospect Park next Sunday.  This race supports the Arthritis Foundation and is the first race where I've been encouraged to do outside fund raising.
This strikes a small bit of terror into me.  I'm not great at asking people for money.  I'm a Gemini, so I should be a fantastic salesperson.  However, I'm also a musician, so I understand what it means to be living on a very thin dime.  Perhaps my reluctance actaully stems back to my childhood. 
It was my very first time selling Girl Scout cookies.  I was so proud to wear my uniform and start taking orders.  At the very first house, tragedy struck.  My neighbor wouldn't buy any cookies.  She had already been hit up by the 30 or 40 other girls in my neighborhood and didn't want a freezer full of Thin Mints.  Looking back, I can't say I blame her.  After all, those cookies cost an arm and a leg, but I've never really felt comfortable asking people for money since. 
Still, I'm going to give it a try this time around.  I really believe in the work the Arthritis Foundation does.  I know a lot of people who live in chronic pain, and I know it has a huge impact on their lives.  Plus, the foundation made it really easy and set up a little web-page for me.  They let me set a fairly modest goal and I think I can reach it.  We'll see how it goes.  My approach is to try to get several people to donate a small amount.   So here's my pitch.  If you've enjoyed reading my blog, and you know anyone who suffers from Arthritis, consider donating $10.  Click on this link, KAREN'S ARTHRITIS PAGE, and it'll walk you through the process.  You'll be donating to two great causes, arthritis research and my mental recuperation from the trauma of selling Girl Scout Cookies.  Thanks!