I’ve been working on virtual recording projects a lot this year, and pieces of these projects often trickle in over days and weeks. The result is that I’m piecing together recordings one part at a time, and often with major parts or voices missing.
Generally, I’m familiar enough with the pieces I’m working on that I can listen and hear what isn’t there. Essentially, I am audiating a complete version of the piece at the same time as listening to the current version of the recording. It’s not so difficult – conductors do this all the time, assessing their ensemble in rehearsal by comparing it to an ideal version in their mind.
But one thing I’ve learned this year is that sharing incomplete recordings is often a recipe for quizzical looks from people who aren’t able to audiate the missing parts. When my son listened tonight on headphones to a completed mix, he love it. A few days ago, when I played a segment for him missing solos and some other parts, he looked more puzzled. I’ve had that play out over and over this year. It’s taught me two lessons.
First, don’t play recordings to people before they’re ready to hear – unless you are certain the listener can hear what isn’t there. It’s a recipe for at best confusion and at worst disappointment – a story that will be hard to overwrite later.
Second, I think the same thing can be true, to a lesser extent, in in-person rehearsals. Ensembles can’t necessarily audiate everything the conductor is hearing, and unless they make it crystal clear what they are looking for from the ensemble, they risk losing the ability to motivate the ensemble. Why would I be motivated to keep working, if I can’t hear how what I’m doing is different from what you want me to do? Consistent communication of concepts, demonstrations, and most of all clear education of the ensemble’s ears and intellects is vital.