My Carnegie Hall Debut!

So... this is pretty late, and was a long time coming, but here we are! It is now August 10th, at 3 am; however, this is my motivated time. Back in August of 2024, I attended IMC, where I heard all about the illustrious Colin Clarke, OC, and his orchestra, the Oakville Symphony Youth Orchestra.

IMC Wind Section (Sort of?)

My good friend, who I made at camp, Kareena Saggar, referred me to Colin, and off I went. Every week, I would head to King's Christian Collegiate to rehearse with this growing ensemble. Here, I found out the orchestra would be travelling to Carnegie Hall in the spring. For any budding musician, this is exciting; alas, I did not expect to go. For me, 2024/25 are an expensive couple of years. Universities to move to and audition for, places to travel to, and so much more. This trip just didn't fit my bill. The cost was rather high, and I had been to New York before. So, the family and I agreed there would be another Carnegie Hall in my future. Well... I got lucky! It was only about a month into my tenure with the orchestra when I found out an anonymous donor would be supporting my journey to New York, and I would indeed be playing at Carnegie Hall! Fast forward...

*yawn* It's April 5th, and I am on a bus to New York at 4 in the morning with my great friends in the OSYO, all nervous about the border crossing in this age of forging imperialism. We arrived in New York later than expected, and it was a bit cold, but this was no issue. World Projects, the company operating the New York International Music Festival, was incredibly accommodating and made sure we were all very comfortable. We all settled in for the night and prepared for the coming days.

Random building!

We woke up on day one in the city, eager to explore. As a group, we ate at Applebee's Times Square for breakfast, whose air of millennial sadness, overworked employees, and outdated decor was palpable. The pancakes were good. It was nice to chat with all of my colleagues post-travel, and see how many rules we could break... what could we get away with on this trip? Did we have to stick to the itinerary? Well... yes and no. The first way we broke this rule was, of course, Starbucks. With pep in our step, my friends Dania, Daisy, and I headed to Starbucks, obviously, to get our caffeine kick for the day. Tracy joined us, making it not totally against the rules, which was lovely, of course, as we hadn't desired to abandon our chaperones quite yet. Before this goes any further, I am an extremely fast traveller, and don't have time to lallygag. Dania DID NOT appreciate my jaywalking habit. We headed back to the hotel and got ready to play.

Hi Dania!

The first part of our day was a clinic with Dr. Colleen Richardson, a conductor whom I had previously worked under. She workshopped the orchestra, playing through our expertly chosen repertoire. Her insight was so incredibly effective, and helped the orchestra profoundly ahead of our performance. It was a great opportunity for the orchestra to come into its own, as well as play as a group before the performance itself.

Workshop!

After this lovely workshop, we headed to the Museum of Natural History (8-year-old me was in shock, THIS IS WHERE THEY SHOT NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM ARE YOU JOKING). John (perc.), Cyrus, I, and others explored the museum for a few hours. During this exploration, I believe we managed to lose two people in our mini group and a passport! It was quite the afternoon. After all of that chaos, we actually got to enjoy some of the displays and the planetarium.

The gang

Sandy, our tour guide, also father to our Principal Cellist, and the aforementioned Kareena, was amazing. He really accommodated us all. On this trip, I had one goal: to see Lincoln Centre. Sandy made it happen!! After the museum's great debacles, we followed Jon (cello) and Aarav to a sketchy thrift store where a couple of New Yorkers yelled in their New Yorker way. We then trekked through Central Park and made it to Lincoln Centre.

Daisy and I running to Lincoln Centre

The Metropolitan Opera (Okur?)

Now, we had a tight schedule to keep and had to make it back to the hotel by 4:30 for dinner. With the ever-great distractions all around us... this was difficult, BUT! Sandy was on a mission. His speed walking had us in a sprint behind him, struggling to keep up. Had we not run the way he made us, we would have been late and put everyone out. Thanks, Sandy. We bused off to dinner at the Hardrock Cafe, and saw Harry Potter and The Cursed Child (I was NOT amused. I had seen it before, and it was unimpressive both times). If I remember correctly, we considered sneaking out to buy rush tickets for the Met and Jon Batiste. Alas, we did not. We went to sleep and had a phenomenal day one.

Day two was hectic as Beethoven is depressing. The day started a bit funkily, as our Central Park performance was cancelled. We decided to all split off into small groups, but first, about 40 of us went to a tiny breakfast spot, probably upsetting a very many regular New Yorkers. Oh well... gotta eat somewhere! Thereafter, we made our way to the MET. Now, THIS, my friends, was a feat. We walked, as a group, 40+ blocks (there and back) in pouring, cold rain, just to spend an hour in the MET. We figured, if we only had so much time, now was the time to do it. We RAN to see this art, not fullying admiring it, unfortunately, but hey, we did it. I got to see so many beautiful period instruments and enjoy them through the looking glass.

We returned to the hotel to give a basement performance (that I was not happy to partake in, as it ate up our MET time and we had no audience), which helped solidify the orchestra once more. Now what was there to do? Everyone was back, free time was sliced through the middle, and we were stuck in a purgatory of "too much time to sit around but not enough time to do something". So, we ate! A small group of us decided to go to Raisin' Canes, an obvious choice, but a good one. On our way to the Times Square establishment, I got an email. "Your Admissions Decision Awaits" from McGill. This was it. I was about to find out... and WOW! Standing in Times Square, I got into McGill University's Schulich School of Music to study under my dream teachers, Stéphane Lévesque and Martin Manrgum, with a substantial scholarship. Now the Canes was more of a celebratory late lunch than a time filler. After this, we headed for a dinner cruise, featuring Lady Liberty (this photo is particularly brilliant, as you can see her reflection off of the clouds, as if some looming ghost. It could be a metaphor for how liberty has died and is ascending, or maybe I'm reaching), a dance party, gross food, some sea sickness, and the gorgeous New York City skyline. This was it, this was the night before we made our debut on the stage that previously hosted the greatest people to live in the last 200 years.

Good morning, sunshiny New York. Like that, the day had arrived. I made my way down to the hotel's lobby, adorned with my concert black and Canadian flag pin. In a line, we marched proudly as the only Canadian orchestra in the festival to play in that great American hall. Quickly, we shuffled into the warmup space, wherein we all got to relax and realize the grandeur of it all. The room itself was the opposite of grand. Some chairs, a tiny restroom, and thickly painted white radiators. After warming up, the instructions were given that all cumbersome instruments could take a freight elevator, and I did. I lucked out, because in this alternate route to the stage, I beat the others. I had the Stern Auditorium / Perelman Stage all to myself to take killer photos.

How fortunate am I?

Quickly, we warmed up on stage, spot-rehearsed, and made music. This feeling was unparalleled, or so I thought. You know, I was rehearsing on Carnegie Hall's mainstage... what could be better. Well, performing on it!

The orchestra grabbed a bite to eat (I did not, nor do I ever eat before a performance), and made our way to the audience. There were about 4-5 ensembles playing in the festival, so we got to hear just about everyone. They pulled us from the audience quickly, as we were the last group to play (best for last!). We lined up and made our way to the stage. Quickly, we sat in our places, and our lovely concertmaster (who must have been on cloud nine during the applause) walked out, and tuning A sounded. We played our horns, warmed our bocals, tightened our strings, we made noise and got ready. WE, were the Oakville Symphony Youth Orchestra, and NOTHING could stop us now.

A quiet hush fell over the space as we stopped our tuning, and the doors swung open, releasing one of our conductors, Caron Allen. Rapturous (or what in the moment felt like) applause rang out to welcome her, as we so stood. As the noise faded, her arms extended, and anxiety kicked in. In honesty, rehearsing this programme came with its challenges. With members in the orchestra under 10 performing alongside us, we faced an uphill battle. Now was not the time to think about it, and her arms began beating in two. Camille Saint-Saens' Bachanale from his opera, Samson and Delilah, began. (Do not click this link that totally doesn't lead to a youtube video that I am totally not supposed to have that totally wasn't supposed to have been filmed). I loved playing this piece because of the gorgeous woodwind soli in the middle. During this piece, I really experienced the aura that Carnegie Hall carried. The idea that Tchaikovsky had stood where my conductor currently was, or that Leonard Bernstein had his debut here, never evaded my mind.

Caron Allen conducting

Then, we moved to play Oscar Peterson's Hymn to Freedom. This was ironic, but important. Considering the geopolitical state of things on our continent, performing this was triumphantly Canadian and incredibly special. The passive denial of the encroaching American advances was something we were proud to use art to do. After this piece, Caron departed the stage, and replacing her was Colin Clarke.

Colin Clarke walking out

When Colin came out, I was lucky to have some breathing time during the first piece he conducted. Béla Bartók's Romanian Folk Dances, arranged for orchestra, is now one of my favourite short pieces for orchestra. The writing is just spectacular, and each movement's themes are inexplicably familiar (I am not Romanian or Hungarian), and are quite emotional too. I loved this piece so much that I arranged it for solo bassoon and piano to perform at my recital this summer. After this came our grand finale.

This was my absolute favourite piece on the programme, as it was so energetic and truly embodied the spirit of youth orchestras as a whole. Arturo Marquez's Conga Del Fuego Nuevo was the piece with which we closed the entire show. The popping percussion, gorgeous wind lines, and impeccable trumpet solo echoed through this chamber of excellence. The acoustics of Carnegie Hall made us feel like we had the power of the Vienna Phil. It wasn't overly reverberant, but had a sort of ring that made every single note shine. As this piece flew by, I felt overwhelmed with emotion, but did not let it stop me. In fact, after the performance, I was stopped on the street by an audience member to be told how much they loved how much I physically loved the Marquez piece (it was one of those dance while you play feelings). As the applause echoed following the final timpani blows, we shot out of our chairs to bow and bask in the sound. This was it. I had just made my Carnegie Hall debut. If cloud nine exists, I was certainly on it. To this day, nothing has surpassed what I felt being on that stage, and I so often dream of returning to it.

Basking

Post Carnegie!

After that, we grabbed pizza as a group and went for a walk. There was not much more to the trip, other than Tracy getting the bus to drop me off at home instead of Oakville, which was so nice of her. It was on the way... so it was a no-brainer, but still, how kind! Oh, Carnegie, just you wait. I'll be back! (headlining?)