It seems like some recitals are cursed, and everybody messes up. This was not generally one of those recitals. Everybody seemed to do pretty well. Poor Sande, just having had surgery on her right knee, couldn't stand up and missed lots of parts just trying to keep her balance.
I was not nervous. Not until 2 minutes before I had to go on.
The Group Lesson bunch, of which I am a part, played first, and we got Brogues almost perfect. I don't know who messed up on one note, but I don't think it was me. There ended up being 4 of us: Sande, Lee, JohnO, and me. So that was good.
Ten minutes later it was my turn. I remember Erin M nodding encouragingly to me as I walked out on stage. HH was there in the back of the audience, not really providing emotional support, but being there. Small Son was required by Erin M to be there, so he was present under duress. We had discussed the people playing and tunes and abilities and techniques in whispers up until I went backstage. Hopefully that helped pass the time for him. It did for me.
So there I was, center front, all eyes upon me. I had Dugald Gillespie in my head, and I struck in and started right up. I stared fixedly NOT at the audience, just as Jason had recommended 10 minutes earlier for the group. I picked a brick on the back wall and stared at that.
I got through the first part very well. I must have gotten the 6/8 rhythm, because I could see people nodding in time, and dancing was happening in the back. Even though I wasn't looking at the audience. Not looking . . .
I got through the second part very well. Missed one note. Nothing big.
I remembered to play the third part. Dunno if I played it twice or not.
I got through the 4th part, ended well. Gave a small bow, turned smartly and walked backstage.
I did it!
No terrible mess-ups. No reeds dying (although mine had good reason to, with the chunk taken out of one corner; it's been like that for months). No forgotten parts. No squeaks or missing notes (maybe it hasn't been me squeaking in all the group lessons). No shaky legs or trembling fingers, causing me to play something entirely different.
HH, bless his heart, noticed the lack of squeaks and missing notes. He then took us all out to a Scottish restaurant for lunch (McD's; he's got the penny-pinching part of his genealogical selection).
I went home and took a nap.
I played through a recital with no errors!
Another one of life's little victories. . . Medium-sized victories. Controlling your--my-- nerves is no small feat.