ENTERTAINMENT

Inside a symphony audition

In a way, he has been preparing for his moment since he was 3 years old.

Janelle Gelfand
jgelfand@enquirer.com
Stephen Goist practices in a dressing room of Music Hall before his viola audition for a position with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra.

It's 2 p.m. on Monday.

Stephen Goist is  trying to control his nerves as he waits for his audition in a dressing room at Music Hall. Seated on a folding chair next to his viola case, the musician looks relaxed, but nerves can play tricks. It should be old hat: This is his 17th audition, he calculates. But this one had additional pressure. He grew up in Cincinnati.

Goist already has jobs with smaller orchestras, the Dayton Philharmonic and Pro Musica Chamber Orchestra in Columbus. But to win this audition could mean lifetime employment and a six-figure salary. And, it's his hometown.

In a way, he has been preparing for his moment since he was 3 years old, when he started lessons with his mom, a Suzuki violin and viola teacher with Cincinnati Public Schools.

“It would mean a lot, just because it’s my goal to be an orchestral musician and this is a really great orchestra,” said the 24-year-old. “Then there’s that added little snippet, where I actually grew up here and my family is here, and I have so many friends here.”

A door to the stage area of Music Hall is marked with an explanatory sign as people come into audition for the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra on November 9.

The tension backstage at Music Hall was palpable as the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra held auditions for two section violists earlier this month. Auditioning for one of the nation’s big-budget, year-round orchestras is a stressful and secretive process. It takes a lifetime of practicing, audition after audition, and money spent on travel and hotels.

In the end, it all boils down to five minutes of playing.

“From a statistical chance, it’s probably easier to get into the NBA," said Christian Colberg, principal viola of the Cincinnati Symphony. "It’s a very tough process, a process that sends people to therapists, and that truly changes your life. It’s almost barbaric, but it is absolutely fair.”

Goist, a graduate of the School for Creative and Performing Arts and the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music, knows the process well. Already, he has made it this far. Out of 140 applicants, fewer than half were invited to come and audition. Some pulled out. In the end, he's up against 48 other competitors.

It turns out to be a two-day marathon.

Goist practices in the dressing room of Music Hall before his audition.

“I try not to stress myself out too much. I don’t run errands. People have different routines and different breathing exercises that they do, but I just try to treat it as a normal day,” he said.

Except, it isn’t normal. Trying to win an orchestra job is extremely competitive as conservatories churn out exceptional musicians, year after year. And the audition isn’t the end. There will be about two weeks of “tryout,” followed by a year or more of probation before a musician is finally accepted as a member of the orchestra.

It can be expensive, too, Goist admits. Many of the candidates are from out of town – from as far away as Singapore and Japan.  For a recent viola audition for the Indianapolis Symphony, Goist had paid for two nights in a hotel – but he didn’t advance, so the room went unused.

Auditions have been known to go far into the night. When he tried out for the Colorado Symphony three years ago, Goist’s audition day lasted from 9 a.m. until 10:30 p.m.

“At the end, I felt like I was on a different planet, out of body and completely crazy,” he said.

Cincinnati is a big prize, partly because of the prestige. The orchestra, the nation’s fifth oldest, regularly plays at Carnegie Hall (and in January will play at Lincoln Center), tours internationally, records on its own label and recently completed a transformational $26 million endowment campaign. Its chief goal is to fill musician positions left vacant during leaner years.

Which is why the call went out to fill two seats in the viola section.

Scotch-taped to a mirror in Goist’s dressing room is a single sheet of paper listing the music he will be asked to play.

The doors leading to Music Hall’s stage are closed, with a sign reading “Auditions in Progress.” Hallways are deserted. Every so often, a musician scurries through the office doors, asks the receptionist for directions, and disappears into a dressing room.

Goist checks his watch. It’s time. Now, he just has to play his heart out.

“I know that I get nervous, so knowing how to deal with that, that’s what I’ve learned through all of these auditions,” he said, still smiling. “I’m trying to just stay focused and clean and accurate. We all have our different routines that we go through – some people eat a banana or do yoga. The art is just understanding yourself, your body and mind and just always being in tune with yourself.”

The process is strict. Candidates walk onstage over a carpet – so that jurors do not form an opinion by the sound of their footsteps. The click-click-click of high heels might give away the sex of a contender. They play behind a tall screen, unseen by the jury. They do not speak, although the jury speaks to them.

Christian Colberg heads the viola section of the CSO.

“Through all of this, we don’t know who you are – race, religion, sex, nothing,” said Colberg, chair of the 10-member audition committee.

The orchestra sets the rules. The Cincinnati Musicians Union, Local No. 1, oversees the proceedings to make sure the rules are followed. Overall, they’re looking for the best player. But sometimes there are several who qualify. It might come down to who is the best fit for this orchestra, this viola section, this sound.

“We are definitely looking for the whole package deal. If I have to grade in all these areas, musicality, style, technique, you give certain grades in your head, you have your own scale. Some jury members concentrate on intonation, others on rhythm. So each juror brings their own list of priorities,” he said.

“Why do you win some and you don’t win some? It’s like Robert DeNiro, one of America’s greatest actors, going to read for a new movie, but the director turns to him and says, ‘Sorry Mr. DeNiro, but we’re looking for a blonde with big boobs.’

"So when you get to the end of an audition, it’s tricky. Your playing, mixed with what the committee is looking for, is really what is going to give you the win.”

The audition is over. “I feel great. I played well, and did everything I practiced,” said Goist, with a relieved smile.“It is definitely a release afterwards, of just a lot of energy built up. The nice thing about this audition, is that the next rounds are tomorrow. So I can relax the rest of today.”

He looks drained, exhausted. It turns out, he’s made the cut. He’s one of 13 to advance to semifinals.

“I felt awesome. I felt amazing. Sometimes even when I have felt I played well, I didn’t advance. But it’s always a good feeling. It’s validating, satisfying.”

Goist plans to catch up on a new episode of Showtime's “Homeland,” eat dinner and maybe practice a small bit. His ordeal isn't over.

Goist appears at Music Hall  first thing in the morning with the other semifinalists for a drawing to determine the order of play. He knows the other candidates, either from CCM or from meeting them at auditions around the country.

Music schools, aware of competitive nature of getting an orchestra job, have gotten better at preparing their students for the professional world.

“The skill of winning an audition is something that top conservatories are taking seriously. We prepare students to play in an orchestra, but it’s very different to teach them to play an audition,” said Peter Landgren, dean of CCM, himself a former member of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra.

Part of the CSO's viola section. "You’ve got to know the excerpts, how to play them in isolation, but also with the knowledge of how they fit in a symphony," says CCM dean Peter Landgren.

The semifinalists play excerpts for 10 to 20 minutes each. Afterwards, Walt Zeschin, personnel director, announces the final four. Goist is in. The candidates take a short lunch break.

“You start to see the same people at all these auditions. The same people will advance and be in the final rounds. I guess violists are known for a little bit more camaraderie. Some of them are my good friends. It’s hard, because you’re also competing against them for a career.”

More pressure. Music director Louis Langrée has joined the committee. He will have the ultimate say. The screen is still up.

Goist begins with the Bartok Concerto, followed by symphonic excerpts.

“Oh my gosh, it was a huge list with about 15 different excerpts. It was pretty much the entire list,” he said. “The final round ranged from Mozart to Beethoven to Shostakovich to Ravel. They want to hear how flexible you are, and that you can adapt to the different styles of pieces.”

The four violists wait an hour while the jury deliberates. The jury can't agree. They all have to play all over again.

“I was completely exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally,” Goist said.

Goist has gone beyond exhaustion. He is running on fumes.

“For me, this time, there were a lot of requests from (music director) Louis, asking for different types of sound, highlighting parts of a phrase. This round, there was a lot of talking,” Goist said.

“If a candidate has made it to the final round of our audition process, they are undoubtedly an excellent musician. I ask then to approach the same musical passage in different ways, with different meanings, colors, styles, phrasings and articulations," Langrée said later. "What I’m listening for is flexibility, imagination and, of course, skill. I also listen for how the finalists would match the CSO’s identity and style, while at the same time anticipating what fresh elements they would bring to our ensemble.”

Goist waits in the dressing room before his viola audition.

Colberg admitted it was a tough decision.

"The only way it was going to be decided was to hear them all again. It’s what is called a super-final. It’s happening more and more," he said.

In a way, it's a kind of endurance test, "to show how being tired affects you,” he added.

“There are times on tour where, had it not been for local coffee bars next to the hall, I’m not sure I would have survived the concert, with jet lag and constantly being on the road,” Colberg said. “You’ve got to have that instinct of having your muscles go on auto-pilot.”

And in the end, it boils down to five minutes of musical excerpts.

“If you want to absolutely precise, it boils down to about 15 seconds. We can tell with a pretty high degree of accuracy what kind of a player you are within the first 15 to 30 seconds. The rest of the time, we’re there to make sure that our initial assessment was correct," Colberg said.

Goist is not selected. It was “Thanks for your great audition,” and that was it.

“At  that point, I could taste it, it was so close. To make it that far, it was definitely a letdown,” the violist said. “It was one of my dreams to play with this orchestra that I had idolized growing up. But I’m very proud of myself for making it that far.”

He’s not giving up. He’ll soon be traveling to Canada for an audition with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra.

Editor’s note: For this story, the jury did not know which candidate was interviewed by The Enquirer. Interviews were conducted behind closed doors down a hallway away from the stage and audition area, and by phone. The CSO will announce the winners at a later date.