Horns Discuss Contest Entries: Please post your entries in this thread. in the Equipment forums; The Pic:
yeah...I'm a musician
It began arguably in the 17th century. As music started to evolve into ...
yeah...I'm a musician
It began arguably in the 17th century. As music started to evolve into the common practice period as we know it today, composers started writing more structured and organized music. From Purcell to Bach to Beethoven, the early years of modern classical music began coming into it's own during this majestic time period as did the musicians who performed these historic works.
Now understand, no one knows where and how exactly it all started, but around the beginnings of the common practice period, the average musician had been as poor as a fat kid in a candy store. Now please don't take offensive when I say all fat kids eat candy...I know a lot of "heavier than average" kids that much rather have a nice moist cake in place of candy. But I am beside myself. As we all know, you seldom find a musician of this new era living in nothing more than a small one-bedroom apartment. Not a single one that I know of had heat (other than fire place), running water, or even electricity! And that was if you were fortunate enough to live with the greats like Beethoven in downtown Venice. I doubt that anything less would not be considered a livable lifestyle.
These conditions of poverty went on for the next few centuries for average, money making musicians. Efforts have been made to fix this problem via the modern-day soup kitchen, food stamps, homeless shelters...the list goes on forever. But in the early 20th century something happened, something new and creative - never before heard. Jazz. It started as a form of singin' in the endless fields of cotton to pass the time away and later evolved into a complex and extremely creative form of music to pass the wealthy upper-classman's time away because they had nothing better to do than spend money anyway.
Now there is a point I must make involving the choice of instrumentation. Back roughly around 1900 in New Orleans there was a natural disaster, I do not know the details but it ruined most instruments avalible to the people of the area so in an effort to get rid of these junk instruments, they were sold for very very cheap. Now because the musicians of the day were no richer then the musicians of the 17th century, this was a deal they couldn't pass up. So if you ever wondered why in traditional jazz there are not many violins or bassoons or whatever, it is because the local musicians of the area couldn't afford it.
Returning to the main story. The age of jazz gave more gigs and job opportunities than ever before. For a while, to say you were a working musician was to say you are going to have something to eat later, but then out of nowhere this other form of music came with there load guitars and over-played drums. People loved this thing they called "rock and roll" and I do to very much so, but for us classical and jazz musicians (or almost anything with a trumpet) the universe forgot about us and things went to how there were before.
So time went on and the music never stopped evolving, even the musicians kept evolving despite the considering. Think about it, if you discovered the time machine and put an average guy but excellent musician like Trent Austin (whom just happens to be my instructor) and stuck him with the Louis Armstrongs and Miles Davis' of the time, I think he or anyone else would easily be able to hold there own.
So here I am in modern day, me being no exception to the musician's life having to pay for a .5 credit jazz band partly with quarters living off whatever "gigs" I can find in the Gorham/Portland area and throughout Maine. But one thing is certain for me and most every other musician when I say I absolutely love every minute of this thing called life souly because God has blessed me with the gift of music even if i do live on a bench. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Why should I win this contest:
1. You'll be helping out a poor college student and fellow musician/trumpeter.
2. I love to play! I'll do ANYTHING! (that's not over my head at least) If you need a trumpet, I am your guy even if it is free. (that should explain the pic) I practice classical trumpet like a mad man...jazz...well it's getting there. I just started jazz last year so I have some catching up to do but that is why I take lessons with the big TA (trent austin). One day I hope to be on top and I am sure I will get there eventually sheerly because of my desire. I am an ok player now but one day I am going to smoke.
3. I dented my trumpet in the process of the picture taking.
4. I have played Trent's horns and they are the first horns I have played that have the intonation level of a monette without all that weight and it's very easy to shape your sound (on top of looking cool) and to put it simply...built by just a cool bunch of people, who else do you know that has given away a free horn?? Before January I have never heard of any contest involving free world class instruments and was STUNNED to find out the company of my dream horn was giving away a free instrument. Now I am not saying i need another trumpet, none of us need another trumpet any more than Michael Jackson needs some more plastic surgery. But an eclipse is like the ferrari of the trumpet world, any one that hasn't played one really doesn't know what a trumpet can be capable of . To put it simply, eclipse is my dream horn...even before I heard about this contest (you can thank Trent for that).
Just a thanks to Leigh and all the people at eclipse for offering us all a chance to win one of these beautiful horns. We are all very lucky to have such active and generous trumpet makers in the world.
I CLAIM THIS LAND FOR SPAIN!
"This is Frank's world and we are just lucky enough to live in it."
Bach Strad 43 ML
Kanstul F. Besson Meha BbTrumpet
Courtois 154 Flugel
Yamaha 6335H Cornet
Task #1 - Unusual Trumpet Photo:
(Inspired by the Great Chet Baker's "Violets For Furs")
Task #4 - Limerick:
There once was a man in Illinois.
He’s played the same trumpet since he was a boy.
It’s old and it’s worn,
But at least it’s a horn.
And playing gives him such joy.
One day he heard tell of a contest at hand.
Held by the finest trumpet maker, in any land.
Rumor has it the grand prize will be,
An Eclipse trumpet; And best of all it’s free!
To win such a prize would certainly be grand.
The owner of Eclipse is a man named Leigh.
Loved playing the trumpet, did he.
But none, it is said,
Matched that sound in his head.
So he built the Eclipse, which is as perfect, as perfect can be.
Inspiration, soon this man would get,
While listening to a song, by a cat named Chet.
An unusual photo he snapped,
Of that worn old trumpet, but in fur it was wrapped.
It was violet already, the result of a bet.
Task number two was harder than one,
Because writing skills, he simply had none.
But give it a go, he certainly would,
The results, as you see, are not very good.
He posted it quick, so the deed would be done.
The man in the story, it’s easy to see,
Is yours truly, and this is my plea.
If a new trumpet you give away,
For some lucky soul to love and to play,
I sure hope like heck, you give it to me!
Task 5 - Why I should Win:
You see that Ambassador in the photo above? That's my trumpet. It was the first trumpet I ever owned, and unfortunately the ONLY trumpet I own.
In grade school, when it came time for kids to start band, I was introduced to the trumpet. It was love at first sound! Unfortunately, it was a really bad year for the family farm and it had been a long rough winter, so my folks couldn't afford to rent an instrument. I was heartbroken, but lady luck smiled on me. My parents were out selling stuff at a flea market and ran across a trumpet for $10.00 (Yep - MY trumpet)! It was all corroded and nasty looking, but my dad cleaned it up really good, straighted what he could, and freed up all the stuck pieces (You DON'T even want to know how he did it, but I can tell you this; It involved a blow torch and a hammer). Oh, some of the kids laughed when I first brought my horn in to the class room, because it wasn't shiny and new like theirs, but they stopped laughing after a couple months. I practiced every free moment I had, and soon I made first chair. I stayed first chair through my sophmore year in high school. Around that time, my band instructor told me I would have to get a better horn if I was to progress any further, but finances were still way to tight to waste money on a horn. I didn't really care, as long as I got to play, I was happy. Through the years, I saved money several times in order to buy a better horn, but since I only play for fun, I just couldn't justify the expense. My wife, a house, car repairs, kids - There just always seemed to be something more deserving of the money. I stopped playing for many years.
I didn't realize how much I missed it until I started playing again last Christmas. My wife told me I should play again, when the minister said he was looking for people to join the church ensemble. There's no way I could play in public right now, but I'm practicing and my chops are starting to come back. I have to get a different horn as the valves are completely shot on the Ambassador, (it's also not the most "lyrical" sounding horn with the painted finish). I've started saving for an "eBay special" and I hope to finally get a pro horn. When I saw the Eclipse contest, I thought to myself - Wow, wouldn't that be something! I can't think of anything better than winning a brand new Eclipse. They are absolutely gorgeous, and what I hear from sound clips on the internet, they sound even better than they look. Win this contest or not. Buy another trumpet or not. I'm going to keep playing - And some day, I hope to play at my church. It would be simply awesome if I could do so with my brand new Eclipse.
P.S. If I win, I'll tell you why it's painted violet.
Thank you for giving everybody a chance to win, Leigh!
I guess I'll reserve a spot here.
Dunno what to do yet.
YTR-8335RGSM YAMAHA XENO
TR300HXS BACH STUDENT
B-125 BLESSING STUDENT
YAC TR16C4-HGP YAMAHA
1 1/2C Gold-plated BACH
1C Plastic KELLY
1C Silver BACH
3C Silver BACH
10 1/2C Silver BACH
7C Silver BLESSING
1. THE FUNNY PHOTO
. . . . . . . . . The Flugel-Hound:
2. Back To School
. . . . . . . . . Recycled Trumpet:
Admit it, we've all done it at one time or another. Yes, we've all made ILLEGAL copies of sheet music (gasp)!!
Now, normally, we just pretend we didn't do it, or we destroy the evidence.
Well, I just can't stand to destroy music, there's just something disrespectful about it. So.... I decided to shred the evidence and recycle the paper.
... a lot of rubber cement and scotch tape later...viola! ... the recycled trumpet appeared and the evidence was gone!
Here's the links to more pics:
TASK 5:Mandatory - Why I should win?
This is the fourth year I have enterred this great contest, and despite past
disappointments I just can't help but try again.
OK, every year I tend to neglect a bunch of things around the house and make a mess of things as well. So far the Mrs. has been very understanding, but I'm beginning to think I'm pushing it.
Frankly, I'm running out of ideas! All of the really imaginative entries seem to have already been done in one form or another!
There are only a handful of builders that are dedicated to creating "no compromises" trumpets. None of them are more generous than the crew at Eclipse Trumpets!
Stop acting like someone shot your dog.
Seppop's contest entry
Task number 1: Funny picture
"Just warming up!"
Task number 3: Back to school
Crotcheted woolen trumpet named Lambi
Made of 100% Wool, Handwash only.
Task number 5: Mandatory
Because I'm not very good in writing English, I just want to keep it simple:
1. I need a lead trumpet
2. I need some new clothes
3. My girlfriend wants to have a handtowel of her own
If you want to know more about the pictures in my thread, click http://personal.inet.fi/koti/seppop/trumpet.html
Sorry. Had no time.
-"More air", "open the throat", "arch the tongue"; Next
-"Long tones: my anti-drug"
TASK 3: Back to School.
The "Molten Copper Wall Trumpet." It's all an illusion but, if it could play, it would be sweet and dark just like the sound I love to play!
Click Here:Additional Pictures:
TASK 2: The Story
The following story is entirely fictitious. I wrote "That's All" to honor the victims of Hurricane Katrina (August 29,2005) which was very real.On Oct. 4th, 2005, a group of us did a benifit concert that raised $4000 (plus food and blood drives) for these brave people-a very small contribution considering what they lost. My inspiration for this story was drawn from my enjoyment of Jazz; the passionate love I have for my wife Shelly-happy 25 years honey! and the pain my sister Debby has felt in the loss of her husband Paul this past year... I hope you find solace in these words "Sis." You have been so amazingly strong, I love you.
The words of "Rev.Bell" in this story are for my sister Debby, and anyone else, for that matter, who may have experienced the profound emptiness of having lost someone they loved.
Live your life as a celebration of what you still have while the memories of what has been, sustain you!
Click Here:Sound Clip: of me playing the classic jazz ballad: "That's All."
Bob had survived four major storms in his 72 years, the biggest now, having nothing to do with hurricanes. So when the talking heads on his television were frantically pleading with him to immediately evacuate the city, Bob's first call to action was to finish his cup of tea, loosen his tie, and head for the couch in the living room. It's not that he was lazy or even reckless; it's just that he was tired and numb, and right now, self-preservation seemed so trivial after all he had been through the last three days. As he eased his head against the pillowed cushions he tried to block out the frantic reporters in the next room:
"One storm at a time" he whispered to the flickering shadows on his ceiling and then, for the first time in days, he slept.
Bob's dreams were labored; explosions of lightning outside his window kept pulling him reluctantly back to the reality of a greater storm within. As his weary eyes went in and out of focus, there was just enough light coming from the ominous radar images on his T.V. for Bob to see he was making a mess of his new suit.
"Eve would be upset for sure," he thought, but as he drank in the heavy scent of fresh flowers quietly dying in the parlor in the next room, he knew differently. Bob shifted his position on the couch while willing his mind to reach back through the tears once more before he fully woke to face the grief that now engulfed his empty home.
For 51 years Bob had worked steadily as a local jazzman in the "Big Easy" and as the old timers use to say, " For a musician to grow old in this town, with all it's vices, ain't 'easy' at all." Bob liked to joke that he played trumpet good enough to "make the rent" but not " a name" for himself. Being great was never his goal, but being good enough to pay the bills, left room in life for what really mattered to him most, and that would be Eve, his bride of 55 years.
They met on the night of Bob's first paying gig! Eve's Daddy owned the little club that would become home to his music career. To Bob she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, but she was far too busy to take notice of his nervous glances that night. To win her attention he determined he could play poorly or passionately and he wisely chose the latter. Ironically, at just nineteen, it was a performance of mythical proportions that he looked to repeat his entire carrier and yet, no matter how inspired he would play through the years, it was never as good as that first night when Eve put down her serving tray and walked to the front of the little stage to hear him play.
" I can only give you love that lasts forever..."
Sure, couples may have a "song" but Bob and Eve's was more then just notes and words on a page. Their song had brought them together; it had made them laugh; and it would also see them through the real storms they would face while doing life together.
"And the promise to be near each time you call..."
The first came in their forties when Eve was cleaning out the garage and came across a child's catcher's mitt Bob had buried in some old boxes many years earlier. Her discovery of that dusty little glove caused their levy of walled up silence on the subject to finally be broken. It may sound trivial, but as they allowed themselves to be washed away in a flood of tears and delayed grief, the only words that seemed to anchor them were from "their song":
"And the only heart I own..."
In that tiny little garage; while they held that tiny little mitt; they mourned a child they were never able to have, and in facing that storm, they had never been closer.
"Bob, wake up, you'll ruin your suit sleeping on my couch"
As he fought to stay asleep, Eve's dreamy admonitions were all too familiar...
Bob would come home from a late night gig and rather than wake his bride, he would crash, tux and all,on the couch. Eve would wake up the next morning and see him sleeping, often with his shoes still on, and throw a fit. It was funny; he never really liked "her couch" as she was fond in calling it. Sure it was comfortable in the dark and after a five hour set, but during the day, the fabric was much too "busy," with flowers and fruits, for any self-respecting man to admit enjoying. That's just what Eve had counted on when she first brought it home.
"You can have the run of the w-h-o-l-e house," she informed her husband that day, "but not my couch." Bob would tease her that it was her very own "Garden of Eden" and she would respond playfully by rolling her eyes and say, "Well unless your name is Adam, stay away."
"For you and you alone..."
The years went by and their love for one another made them rich in ways material things could never buy. When Bob retired, their family of friends at the club held a Sunday jam session in their honor. Musicians from across the city traded solos and stories long into the evening. It was a magical night and when Bob's band went up for one final set, he instead, took Eve's hand and led her quietly out into the crisp autumn air for the familiar walk home. As they made their way across the moonlit levy to their modest home, Bob saved his last performance for his most endearing fan.
"I can only give you country walks in spring time and a hand to hold when leaves begin to fall..."
"Wake up, Bob!" The scent of her was still on the couch and he couldn't... The warm memories of her were all that he had left and he didn't want to leave...
"And a love whose burning light will warm the stormy night..."
"People, Wake up!" The earlier weather reports rained down upon his dreams "We are facing a category five Hurricane and you've got to find shelter"
An ominous force righted Bob upward on the couch forcing his sleepy eyes to open. His first conscious thought was that of being drenched in cold sweat but as his eyes slowly adjusted to the engulfing darkness, Bob realized it was driving rain pouring through a roof now riddled with holes. As he swung his feet anxiously onto the floor they disappeared within a muddy current that came almost to his knees. The "wetness" of it all dispersed his mental fog and for the first time in three days he saw with a razor sharp clarity that he was about to die.
"How could I have been so foolish?" He screamed above a deafening surge of lightening.
Pulling his soiled pants out from the flow, Bob curled into a human question mark on the sofa and covered his ears with his hands in order to think.
"Even with all the preparations for Eve's funeral I should have..."
He was about to scold himself further for his lack of preparation in the Hurricane but stopped. As he clung to his fragile island, the damp fabric released Eve's lingering perfume in intoxicating security. As he hugged the soggy pillows it was as if Eve were present with him in the room and he didn't want to leave.
"All I have are these arms to enfold you..."
Bob thought back to the words of his pastor at the funeral home two days earlier. With the pending storm surge the city had placed a temporary ban on internments leaving Bob no other choice but to have Eve's body cremated. As they planned out her memorial service for a later date, Rev. Bell tried to offer some encouragement to a man who had lost a part of himself.
"Bob," he said,"it's easy when we suffer loss, for whatever it is that we lost to become the center of our life. We had them, and now they're gone. And so there's this giant hole where they once were and that becomes all we can think about..."
In his mind, Bob heard the words as clearly as if Rev Bell were still looking into his swollen eyes.
" And what happens in the process is our whole life becomes what we don't have and we lose out on what we do have. Bob, Eve would want you to live your life as a celebration of what you still have!
The impact of these words launched Bob into action. Having lived in a flood plain all his life he had always imagined what he might do; but before tonight he had never needed such a drastic plan.
"And a love time can never destroy..."
Five days had passed since the levy had burst. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina over 137,000 homes in the region were destroyed with an additional 78,000 suffering major damage. Rescue boats and evacuation helicopter teams made heroic rescues against a backdrop of unimaginable devastation but with each passing day, little hope remained for finding additional survivors. The closer they worked near the levy the higher the body counts...
Bob had managed to climb, then crawl, to a section of his attic that hadn't collapsed. Within hours, the surging flood had risen to his ceiling sealing off any escape from below. As he clung to a trembling roof joice thoughts of death washed over him as he lay entombed within the cramped attic. When daylight came however, Bob found an amazing gift that gave him the reason he needed to fight to stay alive.
Lashed to their brick chimney that ran up from the parlor fireplace and through the attic, was a large chest covered in a heavy plastic tarp. Bob could hardly believe his eyes. He hadn't been up there since his T.V. antenna had blown off in the last storm, and he had never heard his wife mention this mysterious container. As he anxiously tore open the lid the emotional force of what lay inside forced him to steady himself for a moment against the slender brick wall before a surge of tears rocked his entire body. Neatly folded inside the chest lay a freshly ironed Tux, his old Martin Committee trumpet, and five photo albums that neatly preserved the memory of his life with Eve! As he delicately held the contents in his arms as if plated in Gold, he saw that there was more: two blankets, twelve bottle of water, two boxes of crackers, a large tin of nuts and a flashlight with three boxes of fresh batteries!
Bob sat like a child around the tree on Christmas morning drinking and munching on his treasures while pouring over pictures until his daylight faded into darkness. In the ensuing chill he reached inside for the stowed blanket. As he wrapped the warmth around him, it released the familiar fragrance of his home that embraced him securely against another uncertain night.
As Bob sat a moment in the darkness and savored the gift, his palm rested on something he hadn't felt before, groping nervously for the flashlight he found the greatest prize of all!
" If you're wonderin' what I'm askin' in return, dear. You'll be glad to know that my demands are small..."
Inside the protective folds of the heavy blanket Eve had hid a yellowing sheet of music along with a brief hand written note. Bob's breathing grew shallow like the first time they had met. His watering eyes traced every word his wife had lovingly penned with her own hand.
My dearest husband,
Ever since the last storm I thought it best to put some things away that could never be replaced. I so enjoyed picking them out! You know that I've never been good with words so I've enclosed our greatest possession to tell you how much I really love you (I never told you this before, but I stole this sheet music off your music stand the night we first met). Will you play it once more for me, now?
With all my Love,
P.S. Oh, and Bob, I love your voice darling, but use the trumpet! XXX
(AP News Briefs 6/4/05)
Day Six/Hurricane Katrina updates:
Emergency repairs are fully underway on the 17th St. levy canal breach [south of the Old Hammond Highway bridge]. "Rescue boats and heavier salvage equipment can now navigate more effectively within the devastation surrounding the Lakeview and Old Metairie-Old Jefferson neighborhoods" said, Susan Wadley, spokesperson for the Army Core of Engineers.
At approximately 8:46 P.M on Sept. 4th, 2005, National Guard rescue teams tied their search boat to a severely damaged roof top after hearing what sounded like "trumpet music" coming from a partially submerged single story residence. Remarkably, 72 year old, Bob Miller, a local retired Jazz musician, had ridden out the devastating storm in his cramped attic by surviving on: bottled water, crackers and a sense of style. Captain Timothy Everett, who headed up the effort, stated it was the most remarkable rescue he had ever been apart of in 19 years of service.
"We had been pulling out muddy corpses and people needing emergency medical attention for 5 days. When we tore open the roof of this particular home, we found Mr. Miller not only alive but also dressed in a clean tux playing his trumpet! I mean, with all the racket from our chain saws and axes, he never stopped playing till he finished his song!"
When asked how he had come up with such a novel idea to alert rescuers of his location, a weary Mr. Miller stated, " I guess you could say it was my wife's idea."
At this time no other survivors where found at the location and official on the scene feared Mrs. Miller may have been lost in the storm.
"Say it's me that you'll adore, For now and evermore. That's all, that's all."
Note: "That's All" Words and Music by Alan Brandt and Bob Haymes .
TASK 5:Mandatory (Why I should win?)
It's hard for me to state why I "should" win, (I don't "need" anything as I am already blessed with faith, family, friends AND of course, a life long passion for making music!). In developing my entry I tried to imagine Eclipse very hard at work, or soon to be, on the prize-yes, not a paid order, but a PRIZE! I wanted to respect this generosity with offering an entry that has cost me something as well. Leigh, I could not possibly understand all you have worked for in creating Eclipse, but in this little entry, I have given it everything I have. I humbly offer something that has cost me: loss of sleep (about 57 hrs. to build, write and edit), cuts, burns, sweat and even some blood ... but oh, what fun it has been! Whatever the outcome, I thank you for giving back to our trumpet community in such a wonderful way. I also thank you for helping us all reach deep within and develop our own creative voices expressed on these pages...that's what art is all about! Good Luck to all, we each are winners for having entered.
Here it is....finished!
(Be very, very afraid...)
"Back to School"
(the "Fioriture Symphonique" (Symphonic Flourish) features beautiful silver plating, gold accents (including gold on the inside of the bell), custom "amethyst" gemestone fingerbuttons, a gold mouthpiece, and hand "engraving" - ML bore)
~made from the very best...toilet paper and paper towel rolls, six American pennies, three dowels (mpc), three purple buttons, one plastic tube and surgical tubing, a wooden squewer, one paper funnel, and lots of masking tape!.....Oh yes, and lots of love and hard work (all the "engraving" was done by hand by me with a very small detailing paintbrush (as a side job I paint pretty little things on wooden boxes). There's even a serial number)!~
Full size (it fits in my Cleveland's case-- mpc and everything; my grandmother thought it was real..), and it stands up on its bell (unlike my Cleveland...)
"Why I should win"
Okay...see that trumpet (the real one) in my funny photo? Yes...that would be my lovely 1920's Cleveland Superior 603-- that I bought for $90 at a pawn shop. It leaked, it was black, and it was very dented, but I couldn't afford anything else. After saving up for quite some time I was able to get the valves (which only had the first layer of brass on them) and dents fixed, but due to lack of repair-quality in this area, I often received less than "superior" work on my horn (there are solder marks and drips...the 2nd bell brace is on wrong, there still are some dents visible (including a bell crease), and repair technicians actually cracked the tubing on my horn when they replaced the water key spring (it leaked air, and they finally fixed it after two tries...)).
In addition to that, I was getting better as a player, and I really needed something different (this horn has no way to tune the 1st or 3rd valves, and it has a .440 bore, not to mention all of the above problems). ...So, I created this bank account specifically for a new horn, and every year all of my gift money went into it. I also got a job when I was old enough....and this past year I bought my very own, new Bach Stradivarius!
I am a hard working person, and next year I'm going to college for music (doubling in music ed and trumpet performance)! If I won, I can assure you that whatever super "axe" you're creating at this very moment would be put to really good use and cherished by me (I don't even let most people touch my horns). I had a old, broken-down horn, but I loved it and played it no matter how it looked (and hindered my playing), and I saved up on my own for a new trumpet. Now I'm ready to take the leap into the career or my life... a new horn of some sort would really be such a wonderful thing to receive (and play!).
Thanks Leigh, for putting on this contest for all of us! Good luck to all of the entrants.
Bach Strad 72*
Bach Strad 43*
Marcinkiewicz 11 mpc.
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