The problem with classical music is that it is supposed to be perfect. One mistake, and you’re done. You only get one chance. So a mistake is catastrophic. The idea that a mistake is catastrophic makes you tense up. Your mouth dries. Suddenly, you can’t play, and of course you make mistakes.
My trumpet professor in college was an alcoholic. He simply could not perform without booze. It became a habit. Eventually, he couldn’t perform at all.
Many classical musicians face this, and some take a little xanax or something to take the edge of the anxiety away before they perform. Anxiety is a serious problem.
A couple of years ago, I had the opportunity to play with some musicians from the most prestigious music conservatory in the world. Fortunately, at the time, I did not know how well respected they were or it would have been even worse for me.
I thought I was going to be part of an orchestra. Turns out, it was an “orchestra” as in five musicians. The director, three Curtis students, and me. The students were from Russian, Taiwan and Korea. When I got to the rehearsal, I was still expecting an orchestra, and when told it was just the five of us, I went into shock.
In any case, I simply could not play when I got in the room with them. My mouth went totally dry. I had to go get some water and calm down a bit (hah). Then I came back in, and the first four times we tried the piece, I could not play it right. I got the timing all wrong. It was utterly mortifying.
Plus I don’t practice much, so my lip isn’t up for all this, and my lip gets even more tired when I am under stress. We played through the piece three or four times and I was dying and I had no idea how I’d make it through the next day, and I have no idea what these students, used to perfection, were thinking.
Driving to the Easter service the next day, I was trying to figure out how not to get nervous like that again. I had to hit the first note right at the start, and it was a difficult note to hit. I tried to meditate in the car. I tried to talk myself into thinking that it didn’t matter. I would do the best I could and that would be good enough. No one would remember this. The students would survive.
I did all right. I am grateful for that. I hit the notes I needed to hit. I was relatively in tune. I even had fun.
Putting this in perspective helps. Enjoy the audition for itself, not for whether you get chosen or not. Just enjoy the music you play, and enjoy sharing it with these people who listen.
I like @linguaphile‘s game idea. Focus on each part of the piece instead of the whole thing. A kind of one day at a time approach. You don’t have to wrack up the most points at each stage. So you forget each stage as you pass it, and are on to the next, in the moment with it, instead of remember what you didn’t do a moment ago.
Good luck.