Monthly Archive for January, 2007

My First Masterclass

Published
by
dtclarinet
on January 11, 2007
in Clarinet, Mastery and Teaching
. 5 Comments

Yesterday I gave my first masterclass to a bunch of 8th graders. Ultimately, I’m fishing for new private students. In Columbus, it’s not enough to be the best player in town. There are several other area teachers who canvas and solicit individual schools and who are willing to teach on site. Parents love this, since they don’t have to shuttle the kids to lessons halfway across town. I won’t be doing that, but I’ll give master classes free in all the middle schools to introduce myself and show my abilities. Then, if a student becomes serious about studying privately, they’ve already been introduced to me as a possible choice.

The teacher at this middle school impressed me with her spirit and enthusiasm’s for her job. She follows each student’s development from 6th grade on. She has also turned down offers to teach higher grades because she loves teaching the middle school ages. I learned a lot from talking with her.

I admitted to her I had not done this before. I’ve taught privately for most of my career, and I’ve coached a few woodwind sectionals for the local youth orchestra. But in that case, the material is the music they’re working on, not a group lesson in clarinet technique, and not 22 8th graders. So I was a bit nervous.

I had scribbled some notes about basic clarinet technique: how to hold the instrument, how to breathe, forming an embouchure, etc. The truth is, I work on these basics every time I play. I kept the descriptions as clear and direct as possible, without under-rating their importance.

8th graders are at that in between age, neither children nor young adults, but some of both. Since I don’t have kids, I have little experience with them. Most of my private students have been high school age. I decided to start off very honestly, and told them I had not done this before, and that I would appreciate their indulgence and feedback. I also told them that I myself practice the basics everyday, even though I’ve played clarinet for 30 years. I showed I was willing to meet them at their level, with some valuable advice to offer. It seemed to be a good way to start. Whew!

I tried to make eye contact with most of them as I spoke. There were 22 students in the class, so I scanned the individual faces every few seconds. They knew I was watching.

After a brief warm up and a quick lesson about hand position, I singled out two students with particularly good embouchures, and had them demonstrate for the class. Those two felt honored to be in such a position.

As the class progressed, their attention occasionally slipped and I adjusted accordingly. For the most part, they were attentive. Once or twice, one boy chatted with a friend while I spoke. I gently asked his cooperation in allowing me to speak un-interrupted. His teacher went over and stood behind him. I barely noticed this at the time, but the reason became apparent later.

Near the end of the class, during a question period, he asked an impressive and valid question: Why does his breathing become more labored after playing a few phrases of music in succession? I answered the question with an appropriately complex answer; many factors, including the reed, embouchure and breathing skill, affected the ease of breathing.

After the class, his teacher brought him up to me to continue the discussion privately, which I was happy to do. We had a good talk, and eventually figured out that his mouthpiece had been damaged, and was causing undue resistance, causing his labored breathing. He seemed happy and comfortable talking to me.

In my follow up feedback discussion with his teacher, she gave me encouraging feedback; I had involved and engaged the students, no easy task at this age; I had chosen the right level of language, neither condescending nor babying; and I had adjusted to changes in their attention by shifting to a game or contest to bring them back. I was happy with the success.

But the icing on this gratifying cake was this. She explained to me that the boy who had asked the question had developmental problems, specifically in relating to men. Apparently, he had to be sequestered for belligerent behavior when a male substitute teacher taught the class. Somehow I had engaged him at a level he could trust. We had each overcome a block; he in relating to a man, me in relating to an 8th grader. I can’t imaging a better reward for an hour’s work.

How to Play True Legato

Published
by
dtclarinet
on January 8, 2007
in Mastery
. 5 Comments

Legato playing, the smooth connection between notes in a musical line, is difficult on any instrument. Piano has more difficulty playing legato, since it’s basically a percussion instrument. Voice wins easily for the most true legato, since the larynx can shift subtlety from note to note with a pure connection.

You would think wind instruments, begin fairly close to the voice in their use of air to phrase, would have an easy task with legato. But the physical fact of a finger or pad covering a hole to change the length of the vibrating column commits an act of minor violence to it.

To compensate for this limitation, many woodwind players “chew” on each note with their air to give the impression of legato. The legato then turns into “wa-wa-wa” instead of a smooth line “wa-a-a”. Yet, though this alleviates the symptom of a note changing with a clunk, this quick fix doesn’t really solve the problem. Rather, it creates other problems, namely tension in the air column and lack of direction in the phrase.

During my studies at Northwestern with Robert Marcellus and Clark Brody, I learned the mechanism for the best possible legato on the clarinet. The key is in the steadiness of air support. This may seem obvious, but it’s actually very difficult to do. Remembering the “violence” of moving from note to note, and keeping in mind that each note will resonate differently depending on which holes are opened or closed on which part of the instrument, keeping the air steady is more elusive a task than it may seem. Our ears tend to tell our bodies to “wa-wa” to cover the clunkiness of notes changing. Our bodies will tense and flinch in anticipation of the sudden change in tone and resonance. So how do we resolve these issues?

To create beautiful legato on the clarinet, one must override these urges and discipline the body. The first step is to ensure one is using the highest quality support. This simple act takes years to master. The air must be released and sent into the instrument using the whole torso and diaphragm in a harmonious motion. (This will be the subject of another post) When this is accomplished, one must consciously play “one note” with the air while moving the fingers with disciplined commitment. Most importantly, one must summon the courage not to flinch as the note changes. This detail takes a great deal of self-awareness, since the tiny movements of embouchure, air and fingers are barely noticeable, especially if one has been unconsciously adjusting to alleviate the bumps between notes.

As an exercise, one might play a single note and imagine playing a simple scale. The fingers do not move, but the mind pretends they are, helping separate the integrity of air and embouchure from the air. Then play the scale very, very slowly, moving the fingers extremely slowly, so as to explore each muscle movement in every detail. This may cause some fuzziness or dead space between notes, but the exercise will accomplish its goal of giving the player full awareness of the movement. Meanwhile the air must remain a pure stream as it was during playing one note. Lastly, be aware of any changes in embouchure and override them. Play “coldly”, like a machine.

Ultimately, when the motions of the three components of legato are separated, namely air stream, fingers and embouchure, the player will have a chance to idealize the connection between notes. Flinching the embouchure and air will be reduced to the minimum necessary to “voice” the next note, no more. The fingers will move with disciplined commitment, with no unnecessary violence of movement. Then the player may give the smoothest direction possible to the line of the phrase, creating a clear, musical statement of intent and direction.