Is that what's known as an "Ooops!"?
I hate when that happens.
"An artist is someone who produces things that people don't need to have, but that he - for some reason - thinks it would be a good idea to give them."
- Andy Warhol
I don't dread that. I usually pray for something like that to happen, before I can get to the bit I can't play...
My reply to this youtube video?
I find it... remarkable, only because the piece is so difficult (it's a bit long, so skip to around 5:50 to see what happens, if you want).
But really, I wouldn't dread that! I do recall half a day before a concert, while I was playing my piece in a grand piano, a string snapped! if you can believe that! At least it happened before the concert and we knew someone who came and fixed it right away! Yikes!
When I first started playing the banjo, I used rawhide heads instead of plastic ones. The biggest problem with them was that eventually they would tear from the pressure they were under (in addition to being stretched tight like a drum head, they had the added pressure of the strings placed on them.)
But they didn't just tear. They always--I mean always--tore while you were playing on stage. It was a horrible experience. I'd rather break a million strings on stage than lose one banjo head in front of an audience. The first thing that happens is that the instrument starts to go flat. At first you don't realize what is happening. Your banjo is just inexplicably going out of tune. And then it goes way flat. Very suddenly. And then you hear the loud R-R-R-R-R-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-P-P-P-P-P-P-P and you suddenly become painfully aware of what is actually happening. Since it only happens about once every eight years or so, you don't have any contingency ready for it. No spare banjo sitting there just in case. And unlike breaking a string, you can't just replace it quickly. It takes at least an hour, even if you were to have a spare on hand, which you don't. If it were a broken string, you can usually at least finish the song. With a head, all you can do is smile sheepishly, apologize to the audience, and leave the stage in shame and humiliation. Believe me, it's a nightmare. The first time it happened to me I was about fourteen and was devastated. I wanted to throw the stupid instrument out the window and never pick it up again. But the extreme joy of playing the banjo outweighs the shame, and so you don't give it up.
Thank heaven for plastic banjo heads.
At first I thought she had caught the bow in her hair and was pulling some out -- so i guess it could have been worse than it actually was.