I could see immediately what Kaitlyn had meant when she’d said most people did not envy her choice of career at all. I could see it in Brianne’s eyes—she was judging her for this already.
“Oh, really? You want to teach music with no formal background?”
Kaitlyn didn’t even seem to realize at first that this was an attack. “Well, just guitar, actually. I’m more than proficient in it, though I was never formally trained. I’ve been playing since I was twelve.”
“I see. I’ve been playing violin since I was six, so I understand the importance of a strong background.”
She was one-upping her, and again, Kaitlyn seemed clueless to it. Or maybe she was just playing clueless in order to avoid a confrontation. I couldn’t really tell.
“Oh, that’s awesome! I love the violin. I’ve always wanted to learn.”
“Well, it’s certainly not the kind of instrument you can learn without formal training,” Brianne told her.
“Yeah, I imagine so. Though I wouldn’t mind getting lessons as an adult.”
“Just make sure they’re from someone with credentials,” Brianne said quickly. “I really can’t stand when someone takes on a role of teaching in music when they don’t have any college experience in a musical discipline.”
Ugh, I’d been totally wrong. Kaitlyn having musical experience didn’t lower Brianne’s pretension, in fact, it seemed to have made it worse. She was tearing apart the exact thing Kaitlyn had said she planned to do moments ago.
Kaitlyn gave a crooked smile, not giving in to the confrontation. “Right, well, I don’t think you necessarily need a college degree to become an expert in an instrument.”
Brianne shrugged. “Well, I never had any interest in the guitar, so I don’t know about that specifically. But with the violin, you’d never be able to get by as a teacher without a very strong formal education. Anything you could learn by ear wouldn’t be sufficient. Natural talent only gets you so far.”
It was funny that Brianne said that, because I’d always guessed that was a point of insecurity for her. She was clearly very strict in her mastering of the violin, but she didn’t act like most music majors acted. She didn’t seem to have the same natural creativity that a lot of music majors I’d met had.
A lot of music majors I’d met were more like Kaitlyn. I mean, they were a little less free-spirited than she was, because they were going to college to expand their experience and they had schedules to deal with, but, outside of that, they seemed like your typical fun-loving, creatively minded artists.
Brianne seemed less artsy and more focused, disciplined—the kind of personality you saw in STEM degrees. I wondered if this was a point of insecurity for her, though, I wasn’t rude, so I’d never ask, even if she was being a bit of a twat right now.
“I guess that’s where guitar and violin differ,” Kaitlyn said coolly, like Brianne’s antagonistic behavior wasn’t bothering her at all.
I felt so bad. I had told her that Abby’s friends were mostly all nice, with only a few snobs, but of course, the first one she had a real conversation with was the bitchiest one.
“Right, well, that among many differences. You’d never see a violin in a street performance.”
“Oh, I have, actually!” Kaitlyn said quickly. “Yeah, over on the west coast, in some of the more liberal cities where performance art is booming. I actually saw a few violins as part of different groups.”
Brianne bunched up her eyebrows. She wasn’t used to someone telling her that she was wrong, certainly not about something that was even vaguely violin-related.
“I can’t imagine doing something like that with my violin career. I’d like to be a part of a performance that means more than just a crowd on a sidewalk.”
Again, she was just directly insulting Kaitlyn. But she still didn’t bite.
“I don't know, I think there’s a lot more depth in street performance. I’ve done a lot of shows from behind the stage, and they don’t feel the same for me. It feels like I’m detached, performing for an audience, just putting on a show. When I’m on the street, I’m performing with the audience. We make a direct connection. I’m a part of their world, they’re a part of mine, and there’s something beautiful about it. It’s my favorite way to play to people.”
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This was more free-spirited, artsy talk. I didn't think Brianne cared if she felt connected to the audience. I think she pictured herself up on stage with some beautiful orchestra, being commended for her amazing skill. That was what her art was for her, a skill, not something to be felt.
“Right…” Brianne said, as she reached for the pitcher and poured herself some more beer. She didn't seem to have more to say at the moment, though I was sure in just a moment she’d be able to figure out something else to insult Kaitlyn with.
After Brianne poured herself a beer, the pitcher was nearing empty, and I saw a way to get out of the conversation.
“Kaitlyn and I will go get the next round!” I announced.
“Thanks!” a few of Abby’s friends said as Kaitlyn and I made our way to the bar.
“Another pitcher of whatever they were already drinking, please?” I asked the bartender, forgetting to ask what beer it was as I left the table. I was just too eager to get out of that awkward conversation.