Rehearsing an experimental piece requires a lot of open-mindedness. Sometimes, you'll discover that a composer has crafted an original, refreshing melody that no one else would have conceived. In other cases, however, the end result is simply strange.
In high school, one orchestra in which I played tried its hand at a seldom-played avant-garde piece. Among other unusual requirements, bassists were required to rotate their bows on the strings in a circular motion, which made them sound like planes taking off. Different members of the same sections were required to enter on different beats of a measure. The brass and wind players used only their mouthpieces during certain stretches. The finished product sounded, at times, like disgruntled ducks sparring over who's entitled to the most bread crumbs.
During one rehearsal, the conductor clued us in, indirectly, on what he thought of the piece. After stopping the orchestra, he told us, with mock seriousness, "This has to be played correctly, or else, your parents are not going to like it." We all had a laugh. Then, we went back to sounding like planes and ducks.
