The year was 1984. Larry Sobol, the Band Director of the Smithtown East Symphonic Band, approached me and gave me an ultimatum.. "Work hard, and there might be a surprise in store for you.." Huh? I learned through my private sax teacher at the time that I was chosen to play a solo with the Symphonic Band at the Spring Concert. This being my last concert before I graduated, I was psyched (but a bit nervous!). The solo was a full-length symphonic band arrangement of Harlem Nocturne which, at first, I played like a Bach Sonata.
To be fair, I had only recently fallen in love with my high school sweetheart and was getting a crash course in the "wonderful ways of life" so to speak. So, my eighth notes didn't quite swing yet. And my notes didn't bend in pitch. Notes were notes and I was taught to play them in tune.
My musical (and personal) education made swift strides in very short order after I began practicing for the concert. It was a glorious and nerve wracking time. I was told to break musical rules all over the place--"bend the notes! swoop! scoop! more! play it sexy!" Sexy? (Hoots and hollers from the band). I actually kinda knew what Sobol meant at this point, so my playing began to take on a different form altogether. I was beginning to understand (a little) the motivations for jazz music (and jazz musicians). I was in heaven because I felt like I just joined a secret club.
And then Sobol told me he wanted the last note of the piece to end on a "high A". What? The highest legitimate note on an alto saxophone is a high F. Here was this crazy man telling me to play a note that was three notes higher than the sax would allow. Needless to say, I learned that, indeed, if you bite hard enough with a certain finger combination, a high A will pop out (this is called the altissimo range). I practiced and practiced but hitting this note was like shooting at a dartboard. I hit the bullseye once in awhile but certainly not consistently. (My Dad would tell me years later, he had his doubts that I'd be able to play it). So much for heaven. Now I was nervous again-but that was Larry Sobol's way: to challenge you constantly and endlessly to be better.
The night finally came in May within days of the Senior Prom. I rented a white tuxedo with red cummerbund which killed two birds with one stone. This recoding was made on a tape recorder by the family of the same high school sweetheart mentioned above.
