Andrew Lee
When I first heard that I’d been added to the Saint Vincent joint concert, my heart started racing. I still remember the email — short, simple, but enough to make me sit up straight. I felt excited, but also nervous. It meant more responsibility, more people to match with, and more time to prepare.
Right after hearing the news, I started reaching out to the other members. Some of them were familiar faces, others I’d never met before. Our first few conversations were about choosing what we wanted to play — and that turned out to be more difficult than I expected.
Each of us brought in pieces that we were comfortable with, things we personally felt connected to. From there, we tried to find the ones that shared a similar tone and musical texture — something that could blend our strengths instead of showing our differences. It took a few days, a lot of listening, and even more discussion, but eventually we found the right balance.
Then came the rehearsals.
And there were many.
We practiced almost every day until the very last one. Sometimes we spent hours on just a few measures, trying to make every note breathe the same way. I’d often go home, watch ensemble performances on YouTube, and give myself quiet feedback — how to blend better, how to follow the group’s phrasing, how to support the sound instead of leading it.
It wasn’t easy. Everyone had their own habits, their own way of hearing the music. At first, it felt like we were all speaking slightly different versions of the same language. But slowly, after endless practice and a lot of listening, something began to connect.
By the final rehearsal, it finally felt like one voice.
And on the concert day, when we walked onto the stage, I felt the same heartbeat I’d had when I first got the news — only now it carried pride instead of nerves.
When we played, everything felt aligned — not perfect, but alive.
And when the last note faded, we just looked at each other and smiled, the kind of smile that said: we made something together.
