Being The Third Trumpet

My oldest brother, Tom, recently started a blog on which he muses about life, religion, family, parenting, economics, and politics. I love it, of course. His most recent post was about his role in a community orchestra. Tom was always a "first trumpet" throughout grade, middle, and high school, but he is playing the third trumpet part now. You can read his musings on this topic here.

His post got me thinking. You see, I, too, have played the trumpet since I was in fifth grade. I have been in bands and other ensembles for most of the past twenty years. (I am currently on my longest hiatus since leaving for my two-year mission in 2002 due to scheduling conflicts and the lack of a car to get me to rehearsals on time.) And for most of these twenty years, I have been assigned the third trumpet part. I may have played first trumpet my senior year of high school and I played first with the St. Joseph CAR band last summer, but other than those brief times, I've been on the bottom.

And I've been okay with that. For me, playing the trumpet has never been about being the best or even about being better than others. I started playing because two of my older brothers played and, in fifth grade, my best friend wanted to play trumpet, as well. I stayed with it because I knew the instrument. I stayed with bands and ensembles because I love being a part of something greater than me, greater than the sum of our parts. It was Thomas Carlyle who once stated that "music is well said to be the speech of angels; in fact, nothing among the utterances allowed to man is felt to be so divine. It brings us near to the infinite."

The first trumpet is the part you recognise in any song or arrangement. The first trumpet plays the soaring notes, the haunting melodies, the beautiful solos. The second trumpet is the part you recognise if you listen closely. They play the counter-melodies, the harmonies, and sometimes they get solos, too. Let's play a game. Listen to this piece and tell me if you can identify the different parts as they are played:

(This is, incidentally, my all-time favourite piece by Williams. I even wrote about it in my journal when I first heard it during the Atlanta Games Opening Ceremonies!)

The third trumpet, though, is hard to hear if you don't know orchestration well. We rarely get solos. Instead of melodies, counter-melodies, or harmonies, we play something completely different from the rest of the section. As a third trumpet player, I've learned to listen across the band to the French horns and the saxophones, because my parts usually go along with theirs better than with the other trumpets. I've also learned to keep count on my own because my entrances are not the same as the entrances of my fellow trumpets. And I've learned to keep a close eye on the conductor because if you pay attention, he will give you the cues you need. The third trumpet also has to be humble.

In thinking about this, I realised that there is a lesson to be learned in playing the third trumpet part, and it is a lesson I imagine transfers to any third part for any instrument. You have to know what you are doing. You have to know what those around you are doing. You have to know who to watch and whom to listen to. You have to follow the instructions, even when it seems like no one else is doing it. If you don't, you'll miss out on something amazing. And others will miss out on it, too. So to the two men who have conducted my performances more than any others, Jim and Verlin, thank you for letting me to experience the third part.