Now That's a Dandy!
I am taking a conducting class as part of my major, but I certainly don't consider it a priority. The teacher is the conductor of the best choir at the university and thus takes conducting very seriously. He wants us to practice
at least an hour a day; so naturally, I average about fifteen minutes a week. He gave us a practice midterm this week, in which we conducted a hymn in front of the class, followed by a round of constructive criticism. He was giving out grades, the average of which was probably a B-. I went last of course, hoping the time would run out. I didn't do so hot. He called me up after class and conversed with me in whispered tones:Il Maestro: Limon, if you will practice --(pause)-- you will be a dandy conductor.
Limon: Thanks?
I then turned and walked away quickly.
What does that mean? Dandy conductor? or was it dandy conductor, as in Yankee Doodle Dandy conductor? as in, "The best you'll ever do is a rowdy rendition of Yankee Doodle Dandy."
Then I went home and saw the "Reverse Peephole" episode of Seinfeld when Jerry gets a European carry-all (purse) and wears Joe Mayo's fur coat to keep Kramer and Newman from being evicted from the apartment complex. Kramer and the crazy foreign landlord are laughing and calling Jerry a "dandy." Were they saying he was effeminate? Is that what Il Maestro meant? Was he questioning my manhood? I oughta go back there and show him who's a dandy! I'd better find out what he meant exactly before I subdivide his beats and cut him off.
According to Merriam-Webster:
Dandy: of, relating to, or suggestive of a dandy : Foppish. Foppish?
Foppish: characteristic of a fop. Fop?
Fop: a man who is devoted to or vain about his appearance or dress. Vain?
Vain: marked by futility or ineffectualness: Unsuccessful, useless. Useless? Useless!
So, in conclusion, though many claim that practice makes perfect, I have just been informed that practice actually makes a useless conductor overly devoted to fashion. I guess that's not really worth the effort involved in physical violence. But it's certainly some motivation to practice.
posted by Limon @ 2:48 PM
7 comments
7 Comments:
Fantastic logic, Limon! I would love to see the difference between one who practices conducing for an hour a day and one who doesn't. I never knew that it was something to be practiced and something that makes the lack of practice obvious!
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I did the math once and if BYU students followed the university's guidelines for study they would have to give up things like sleep and the Sabbath.
I say that you call him out...to The Pit!
cicada: You would be surprised how hard it is to follow someone who doesn't know what he is doing. Just think constant frustration and confusion.
th.: I once put in the hours during the week that I was supposed to and I didn't even have time to shower or eat.
jrose: I'll just send him your way. You need some practice on your judo throws. The wifey isn't given you enough of a fight, either.
I like your conclusion. Everyone needs a little more practice at being foppish and ineffectual. You wouldn't think it would take so much time, but it does. It is the skill of the true masters that makes it look easy. You can see them wandering around Banana and Nordstrom's on weekends, waving their hands halfheartedly.
Anyway, your teacher may have said you need more practice. And he may be right. But we all know that you always pull As in the end. You'll be fine.
I've been in and out of fopishness for about 5 years now.
You inspired me: I just pulled out my $259 conducting baton. I love admiring it. You may wonder about it.
- All premium hardwood construction
- Extremely lightweight; I experience virtually no fatigue
- Crafted & balanced by hand
- Lightning-fast precision response
Good luck in the class.
Can I, just a regular schmoe buy one of them fancy conducting sticks? I can pretend it's my Gryffindor wand made out of unicorn hair and maple, and wave it around when the 4th Potter movie comes out....er, nevermind.
One time (years ago) there was this guy in my singles ward who was developmentally disabled. He was this great big guy, and he loved to conduct the music. Every once in a while, they let him do it, but it was soooo hard not to laugh. It was like symphony conductor whipped up on crack. He waved both of his arms about with such gusto, with a huge grin on his face. He would break out into a heavy sweat and everything -and this would be to Come Follow Me. Oh, Sacrament meeting just wasn't worth going to, unless he was conducting the music. Priceless.
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