I once turned up for a concert expecting to be in the audience. And thus not at all dressed for an appearance on stage. Before I could make it into the building the performer saw me and asked me to turn pages. I thought, OK, well, I look like a complete scruffpot but I've done this zillions of times before, how tricky can it be?

One of the pieces was one where the composer had tried out some notational experiments and the performer had rewritten a couple of things so that the pages were in a wide selection of amusingly different sizes. Also some of the things the compsoer had asked for sent the performer's hands and elbows flying all over the place so I did have to watch where I was standing or risk a small-scale but nonetheless potentially painful personal injury.

Another one was just one of those pieces where there's lots going on and not much of it sounds all that different from all the other things going on but one gets used to those.

And another one was a free-form piece. Which the performer had planned in detail but not formatted. 'I'll play this bit from this page and this bit from that page and then this other bit from the first page but while I'm playing that you have to take away the page behind it so I can go straight to the third page...'

I don't think too many people noticed me except for in the elbow-evading parts so I think that means it went OK.

I haven't turned pages too many times, as these days I tend to dwarf most performers. But my favourite was turning for one of the pianists in Les Noces: it's just such a terrific sound to be in the middle of! 

Oh! Impostor of Doom! It's time you turned over a new leaf and what better time of year?

Nothing wrong with Black my Son ...

Earlier this year I turned pages for a harpsichordist playing a concerto with a single-string band.  He was playing from a full score, there were tons of repeats, and everything moved along rather quickly.  I hadn't been that nervous for a gig in years!  I felt very conspicuous bobbing up and down so frequently among such a small group.  I missed one turn, thinking they hadn't done the repeat yet when actually they had.     But I think I was fairly well-dressed!     Probably in black, or maybe black with purple - can't remember.

Harpsichords and chamber organs usually have flimsily-propped-up stands that enjoy collapsing backwards at inopportune moments, too.

SMASH!

 

Lucky the then-girlfriend became the wife after that - I imagine there would have been quite a row!

I suppose string players in sections act as page turners when sitting on the inside of a desk.  I like to think I'm pretty good at it when in that position, but when I'm on the outside, I've sometimes had desk-partners drive me nuts with turning too soon or too late.  Too soon is preferable - although I have been known to invent things to play, having failed to notice what the actual notes are before the page goes over...  But leaving it too late feels like a game of chicken.  I eye the approaching end of the page, eye my desk-partner, wonder if they've forgotten they're supposed to turn the page, try to remember if they have lightening-quick page-turning skills, try to remember what's on the other side, wonder if I can make something up or is it actually a rest... it's not at all distracting or anything!