Lessons and Strategy from a Failed Audition

Coastal Scene at Sunset by Robert Henri

I recently took a professional orchestra audition for the first time in five years, and although I’ve continue to grow and change as a musician, especially during those five years (job interviews, recorded competitions, recitals, orchestral freelancing, collegiate teaching, health and wellness certifications, etc.),  it was a rollercoaster of an experience, to say the least.

(If you just want the take-aways of what I would do different and what I would teach, scan for the recommendations or scroll to the bottom. I think they’re more meaningful in context, though.)

We acquire a lot of experience taking auditions as a young student - for honors ensembles, state festivals, summer camps, summer intensives, and to be admitted to college programs if we want to major in music. Then, as music majors, we live in a rhythm of auditions for ensembles, summer programs, competitions, and graduate programs.

In both of those periods of life, in my personal experience, auditions were challenging but somehow felt easier than they did once I graduated and entered the real world. As a student, we expect that some things might not work out because we are still changing tremendously. We do the best we can knowing that the way we play will certainly be different in another semester. At that point in our musical lives, it is expected that we will “fail” a significant percentage of our undertakings.

Once we’re freshly minted as “professionals,” though, there is big shift in the experience of audition. Following graduation, each audition we take is a potential job and the security that might come with it. The parameters change when auditions suddenly and starkly are a statement about our professional potential. We don’t know when or if the next opportunity will present itself outside the rhythm of school ensembles and safety.

In my experience, and somewhat alarmingly, it doesn’t necessarily get better as we succeed as we might begin to feel that performances and auditions could undermine previous achievements. There is a new pressure to live up to not only the standards that others set for us but standards we have previously achieved. A new feeling may arise that a failed audition or sub-elite performance make others realize we aren’t as qualified as they imagined.

The dichotomy of gathering up professional achievements and yet feeling that one bad performance or audition could knock our foundation off-kilter is something that school doesn’t prepare us for. When we’re students, there is always a second chance and we’re encouraged to keep taking them as we push our limits. Professionally, judgment can take on a new and more oppressive significance.

Lessons

I don’t love to admit that I shied away from many auditions as a student and young professional. I knew I was behind in my musicianship when I started school, and I often felt that larger opportunities were beyond my reach when I finished school. After an experience with a teacher in high school who listened to me for a few minutes and then pronounced that I would never make it as a musician, it felt easier for me to tell myself I wasn’t ready than to hear it again from outside experts. No one had told me that I was on the wrong path or incapable for a very long time, but I persisted in protecting myself by declaring I wasn’t ready. In hindsight I can see that it was a very self-protective mindset.

The older I got the more limiting that self-protection became. I limited my grad school choices of my own volition, not because my teachers encouraged it. I was waiting for the time that I was “ready” to tackle these big pre-professional and professional situations, but I simply didn’t realize that I was the only person who could grant that permission, or that taking them might be the thing that made me ready for them.

Auditions have been the last hold-over of that mindset. Even though I was avoiding some of the most intimidating performance situations, I never stopped trying to be a better performer - to be “ready.” And I have grown. Over the last fifteen years I’ve had enough experiences to know that the only way we truly change is to put ourselves out there, especially when the challenge feels just a little beyond our capabilities (there is science to support this sweet spot of challenge). Even as a busy working freelancer, I find myself experiencing the doubts of my student life when it comes to auditioning for orchestras.

So when the opportunity to audition for an orchestra I sub with came up this spring, I had to dig fairly deep to sort out my feelings about it. There were lots of positives - the audition would be fully blind, so if I crashed and burned no one would know it was me; I had played over two thirds of the audition packet in the various orchestras I play with, so I understood the music deeply, and I have the knowledge I’ve gained from taking continual small steps since leaving school.

There were also lots of potential downsides to face, though. The let down if it didn’t go well. The emotional management that comes along with any big performance or audition. The amount of time and energy the preparation would demand. The very real and likely possibility of failure.

Perhaps it should have been a no-brainer to go for it, but auditions and I have a history and for better or worse, I have enough work in my life that it didn’t feel like a necessity (read: it was easy to talk myself out of).

Recommendation: Make a pros and cons list. What is required? What will you learn? What are the best and worst outcomes? How will the preparation fit into your life?

Once I decided to take the audition, I went full bore. I had two months to prepare, the school year had just ended, and the world was my oyster. I was so excited to have a big playing project and I laid out, a little absent-mindedly, an absolutely ridiculous practice plan. I know at this point in my career how to pace my practice for a large performance, but the desire to play “perfectly” that is a part of orchestral auditions led me down an over-practicing rabbit hole.

I read several audition-prep books, super-charged the plans they laid out and turned into a practice zombie, playing most of the excerpts each day (which was not recommended in any of the books I read, by the way). By the end of the first four weeks I had arm pain that I hadn’t experienced since I was in school and I was completely burnt out on the excerpts already.

I had let my emotions take over my process.

Recommendation: Make a plan and stick to it. Reread it and cull it. Don’t practice for more than three to four hours per day and schedule breaks. Make listening, mental practice, and score study a significant part of the three to four hours you practice. The instrument does not need to be on your face for the practice to count.

Because I was experience physical pain, I needed to take a break from playing. I did some mental practice during this time but mostly allowed myself to stop thinking about the excerpts.

I knew that I was focusing too much on my flute playing and not the music, which was leading me not trust the skills I had been developing for years. There is a reason that mental training is a crucial part of performance.

When I came back to playing, the physical pain was better, but I knew I needed more breaks than I had taken before. The audition was getting close, but at this point I managed to trust myself and work on the excerpts in a rotation. I had a bigger struggle with resetting my mindset - I kept worrying about the “how” and what the committee would prefer to hear instead of playing like myself.

As a younger professional, I often avoided mock auditions because I was afraid to play badly in front of people I admired. It’s still scary to play for great musicians, even (especially) if they are your friends, but I also know that we need opportunities to “get the weird out” before a big performance. I played for friends I trust and who I knew would give me kind but productive feedback. It’s necessary to experience the adrenaline and what it does to our playing.

Recommendation: Do mocks for people you find intimidating, but do more of them for people who know you as a player and will provide focused and productive feedback that is wholly relevant to you.

My biggest regret in taking this audition is that I didn’t trust my own process more. I know what helps me perform with right effort, and how to practice productively. But I let my excitement, my emotions, and the desire to live up to what I know I am capable of in freelancing get the better of me.

By the time the big day rolled around, I didn’t feel scared, but I had drained my emotional resources in a way that wasn’t necessary. I had let the meaning of the process and potential outcome become the center of my attention, rather than working to my own standards.

What I did handle well was the day of the audition. I arrived early. Stuck to my warm-up plan for both the mental and physical lead up to the actual audition. I didn’t let hearing the other players into my headspace, and I took a calm attitude into the room with me.

I played well in the room. I didn’t play my best. I played musically. I was physically comfortable. I nailed an excerpt that gave me a panic attack on stage once. I didn’t play a rhythmically perfect Firebird. I didn’t advance. I felt proud, not embarrassed, when I left.

It might sound fake, but I was genuinely happy with the outcome of this audition. I’m an emotional person by nature, and I rode many ups and downs preparing for something that I assigned a lot of (arguably unnecessary) meaning to.

In the two weeks following the audition I played principal with two orchestras that I sub with regularly, including the one I auditioned for. I received kind and unsolicited feedback on my playing from my colleagues. In the next month I will play principal in a summer festival and give a solo performance at the National Flute Association convention for the first time.

I’m not sharing those things to brag or puff my ego. I’m sharing them as a reminder for me and you that the four minutes you spend in an audition first round, the good and bad playing days, and the auditions you win and don’t win are not going to blow up your career or potential career. It is remarkably hard to believe that one tiny, very true fact.

Our work lives as musicians are complicated and non-linear. Our playing changes, we change, we take good care of our bodies and we demand too much from them. We will never be perfect musicians, and we will probably never feel ready. If you don’t take the chance you don’t receive the outcome the same as if you take it and don’t succeed. The only difference is that the next challenge might feel harder if we don’t try to take the one in front of us. Don’t let the feeling that you are “not there yet” stop you from trying.

Strategy

Rewriting the Process: What I’ll do differently, and what I will teach my students:

1. Make a plan and stick to it

* Use what you know about practice. Plan reasonable hours and breaks.

* Insert a significant chunk of mental and visual practice into your practice hours, both interleaved in your playing time and as a block of practice. I would suggest, and will do in the future, a large block of mental and visual practice (between 30 and 45 minutes) in the middle of my practice time.

* Use a chart or spreadsheet to make sure you are covering all the rep. Do the hardest, most challenging pieces most often but be sure to schedule time for all of the rep. Stick the spreadsheet and do not run all the rep at once until the week before the performance. Trust that you have time to get the work done.

* Plan a rest day each week. It is ok to mental practice on your rest day, or to take the day off from thinking about the project you are working on.

2.    Create and follow a mental fitness routine

* Do this before you are facing a big performance. Take note of what helps you be focused in high pressure situations (ex: cutting caffeine, going for runs, getting extra sleep, taking walks, doing yoga or meditating, visualization, talking to friends regularly, etc.)

* Schedule time for your mental fitness each day that you practice (for my next audition, I will prioritize meditation and yoga to feel at home in my body and calm in my mind. You might prioritize running each morning. Do what works for you and suits your temperament and needs).

* In a time crunch, choose mental and physical fitness over practice. We cannot play our best in a depleted state. By taking care of yourself you make the optimal performance possible.

3.     Take more breaks

* Take breaks during practice, both in between repetitions of something and longer breaks during and between practice sessions

* Plan a rest day

* Play music you like just for fun

* Stop to stretch and set down the instrument any time that you feel tension or pain

* Adjust your schedule to accommodate physical needs

4.     Care for your body

* Stretch before and after playing

* Incorporate some type of exercise as part of your practice plan

* Go for walks. Consider walking while listening to your rep or in silence to allow your brain to keep making good connections from all your practice and listening

* Sleep as much or more than usual. You are working hard and your body needs to rest and recuperate.

* Care for your muscles. Drink plenty of water, which helps hydrate your muscles and keep them healthy. Consider a massage, acupuncture, or other types of body work that will help with fluid circulation and muscle health.

5.     Don’t change what works

* If you have warm-ups and practice routines that work, keep doing them. Don’t reinvent the wheel.

* Reflect on previous projects and how your practice plans worked for you. If two hours a day has consistently been your most productive amount of practice time, don’t change it. Consider adding non-physical practice (mental or visual) rather than more physical practice.

* Preparing for a large project is not the time to make fundamental changes. Do not be swayed by what the committee might prefer - your fundamental approach to articulation, vibrato, embouchure, etc. can wait to be changed at a later date.

6.    Play for others and for yourself

* Plan mocks or dress rehearsals starting a month out from the culminating performance. It is educational if the first one is just slightly before things feel polished.

* Play for new listeners and those who know your playing. Be open to feedback, and don’t be afraid to ask for it about specific parts of the repertoire.

* Record yourself! Not doing this regularly was my biggest missing piece in the last audition. Do this early in the process and wait 24 hours before you listen. When you listen to your recordings be specific and objective. Listen for pitch, rhythm, dynamics, etc., but not all at once. Be picky and keep recording.

* Make recording as simple as possible - use your voice memos app and schedule it into your practice time (often at the beginning or end is best). Schedule your time to listen into your practice blocks as well.

* Debrief every day. Make a note of what you’ve done, what has changed, what is going well and could go better and why.

7.     Be flexibly rigid

* Stick to your plan, but if it’s not working adjust. Don’t assume that you are the problem.

* Try to warm up around the same time every day. It helps us be familiar with our bodies and be ready to play quicker.

* If you know what time you will perform, make sure to warm up for and perform at that time. If you don’t know what time you will perform, practice with variety in the week before the performance

8.    Trust

* You are not trying to play like anyone other than yourself.

* The goal is to show up as the best version of yourself, and to do that you have to play like yourself. Work toward whatever your best version of the music is at this time.

* Make time to reflect on the process daily or weekly. Trust your instincts about both making music and planning.

* Don’t give your precious brain space and time to thoughts of what other people are doing, how they will sound, or what others will think of how you sound.

* Use resources like practice books and audition guides, but never allow the suggestions of an “expert” to override your knowledge of yourself and your sense of what you need.

9. Accept that you will likely not succeed the way you hope

* Be kind to yourself by realizing that this project you have chosen to take on is both one hundred percent worth your time and likely to have a different outcome than you imagine.

* We cannot control the way others perceive us, so it’s always best to stay in the process and the music.

* Even a project or audition that “fails” teaches us about ourselves, our process, and our audiences. Learning happens whether we succeed or fail, and maybe even more so if we fail.

* We will “fail” much, much more often than we succeed. That doesn’t take away from the value of the project, our time spent, our skills, or our career.

* Even the best musicians lose auditions that have only one winner.