Symphony of Silence

A true story that continues to play in my heart

Photo by Mark Fletcher-Brown on Unsplash

Tchaikovsky warmness brings life to the lifeless cold room as the conductor gestures a tender legato downbeat. The reed begins to vibrate on my hesitant lips as our eyes meet gently for the first time. It instills calmness within me. I taste the moment my oboe brings the first melancholic sound to life as warm air flows through its seasoned granadilla wood. Déjà vu takes over and my fingers trace the same path they did through countless solo practice sessions — but today is different. Besides the fact that I’m not alone, it feels like the room is stealing a stroke of life from every sound and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Although it’s my first day rehearsing with him, through the power of music it feels like we’ve known each other for a lifetime. I’ve never seen a baton used so effortlessly. It’s a weightless extension of his arm carefully moving through the cold room crafting the orchestra’s delicate heartbeat. For a moment it feels like my sheet music was engraved in his childlike blue eyes by Tchaikovsky himself. Although Tchaikovsky originally composed the Nutcracker as a ballet, I think the conductor’s interpretation would have made him proud simply focusing on the quality of every sound.

Meticulously counting the rest bars, my eyes remain focused on the conductor. I…