The hardest job in music

Turning pages. We've all done it, and we've all had it done. Some are better at it than others; it is good to be able to explain why. I have been called ‘the most invisible page turner ever.’ That is a compliment, and I will share here what I might have done to earn that attribution:

If you’re wearing a tie, clip it or button your jacket. Leave the long necklace at home.

Stand out of the performer’s way. Stand out of the performer’s peripheral vision. Stand still. Hands at sides. Stand up straight. Do not move. Do not scratch. Do not cough. Do not sneeze. Do not react in horror at the performer’s mediocrity, if such is present.

Get your eyeglasses prescription updated, so you can see the music while you’re standing off to the side.

From that position out of the performer’s way, take one giant step into page turning position. Take the same giant step back when the page is turned. Do not shuffle or fidget into any position; move smoothly.

When moving into turning position, don’t pull drawknobs with your sleeves, and don’t push them in with your elbows or belly or any other physical attributes you have in that area.

Turn from the left side whenever possible. It is easier to “pull” a page across rather than “throw” it from the other side and hope it lands on its feet. I once had to turn for an all-Franck recital. The performer was using the Dupré edition, the dimensions of which are roughly six feet by four feet. The console was huge and wide, and I had to stand on the right, because there was no hope for reaching across from the left to grab those huge pages. The pages themselves were floppy and noisy, and I had little hope of “throwing” the page over quietly or in time. It was no easy task, and the performer and I did not become friends. But I carried on, and no one died, and the building is still standing. And it was at that event that I was proclaimed the most invisible page turner ever. If I were ever asked about it, my advice to that performer would have been to get smaller scores, prepare paste-ups, or just memorize it, for heaven’s sake.

If turning from the performer’s left, hold your clothes out of the way with your right hand. Use your left thumb and forefinger to pull the upper corner down well before turning. This gets the page ready and gives the performer a peek at the next notes. Be careful about casting shadows or blocking access to drawknobs while in that pre-turn position. Turn quickly, decisively, and quietly. Don’t let the page slip out of your hand. Pull (or more accurately, “peel”) the page all the way over, and don’t apply brakes too early; get it turned! Smooth out the page immediately, to keep it opaque and flat. Be sure your thumb does not hide the first notes.

If turning from the performer’s right, slide your right hand behind the page to be turned. Careful that it does not make the last notes of the page transparent. Push the page over until it is completely flat on the other side; you don’t want it rebounding back to you.

Once turned, check the score for centering, remove extra pages off to the side, etc., and then step back out of the way.

When in doubt, don’t screw up. In other words, don’t screw up.

If you’re recruiting a page turner for yourself, be sure you know the music and are able to carry on if the page turner implodes. Get someone who reads music and is not ADHD. They may also need long arms. If the console is not hidden, try to get a page turner who is dressed appropriately. Get someone who is not freaked out by the idea of turning pages for music they have never seen. Ideally, get someone on the young side so that they can write home about the opportunity to be standing over an organ console being used in battle.

Feel free to "train" your page turner as much as you like. And thank them at the end, even if they screwed it up. After all, you could have memorized it.