Once upon a time, there lived a young lad. These days, those who can remember this young lad’s tale dare not refer to him by name - for fear of reminding themselves of past horrors - so instead they simply refer to him as He-who-must-not-be-named. But hell, I can’t call him that. Rowling will totally bust down my door and kick my ass.

So instead, I’ll call him Phil.

Now I really want to stress that Phil - if that was his real name, which it totally wasn’t - bore no relation nor resemblence to the other Phil, the esteemed author of this post. Have I made myself clear? Excellent. Let us go on.

Young Phil was a classical violinist at the Conservatory of Music in Hull (Québec, Canada). Sure, that was the official name of the school, but it was often referred to by other, less desirable names: Hell, the Abyss, Infernus, Hades, the House of Horrors, Shithole of Beezelbub, you name it.

the abyss

During those tedious years, he was tormented by the horrors of Conservatory: demanding professors, private lessons, solfège classes, harmony exams, orchestral recitals, tours, concerts, thumbscrews, racks, violin bows up his ass, and other travesties too painful to mention.

Phil began his studies at the tender age of 5 and would remain as a miserable student until he was about 17. During those tedious years, he was tormented by the horrors of Conservatory: demanding professors, private lessons, solfège classes, harmony exams, orchestral recitals, tours, concerts, thumbscrews, racks, violin bows up his ass, and other travesties too painful to mention.

In exchange for whatever tortured soul he possessed, the Conservatory milked him for all his musical worth. Yeah. They milked him good.

Today, I’m offering my readers a rare glimpse into Phil’s former life. Not this Phil. The other Phil. Oh hell.

In the following, you’ll hear the senior orchestra of the Conservatory playing a Concerto written by one of its own members, Patrick Roux.

Can you hear Phil? Probably not. He was a second violinist and stuck at the back somewhere, bound to a chair and screaming.

But you see, in an orchestra that large, nobody - and I mean nobody - can hear you scream.

Please do send Phil your condolences and your comments