Tag Archive for 'Technique'

Moving On?

Published
by
dtclarinet
on April 27, 2008
in Clarinet, Mastery and Orchestra Auditions
. 3 Comments

While Columbus decides if it wants to have a real orchestra, I’ve decided not to wait for that outcome, as some others in the orchestra have already done. Sometimes bad things happen for a good reason. Perhaps it’s my time to move on.

I auditioned for St. Louis Principal Clarinet opening a year ago, the first audition I had taken in at least a decade. I could feel the old, deep instincts sluggishly resurging in my veins. While practicing hours of excerpts, like soliloquies from a play, the familiar convoluted logic of making music minus 80 began to resurface.

I not only had to be in top mental and physical condition, but my equipment also had to be world class. Compared to playing one or two difficult excerpts during an average concert, to play all the big excerpts one after the other was like taking a 5 year old Audi with 60,000 miles for a race at the Indianapolis 500. Though a great car, it probably won’t win, and certainly not if in need of a tune up. No, I don’t blame the outcome on the instrument or barrel or reed or mouthpiece. It’s just one factor which inhibits the fastest race. Anyway, equipment issues began to settle before the audition, but not in time for me to be completely comfortable before the audition date.

My own physical conditioning had also sagged during years of driving on auto pilot. Living as a musician is like being a professional skater. You need to stay in shape. But doing it week after week you learn to prepare enough for tonight’s performance, not winning the Olympics. Few can do that over and over. Musicians maintain a great deal of flexibility to play one or two different styles on a few days notice. But the “Olympics” of music is auditioning, when one must do it all, top to bottom, side to side, now!

Even a soloist has time on her side, playing the same music over a series of performances, opportunities to fine tune and improve. The audition taker is not privy to such luxury. He has to perform a multitude of varied and even conflicting styles and techniques at the drop of a hat, in succession. A tall order for anyone.

Hundreds of applicants seem to feel up to the task, though, since auditions are always peopled by a herd of regular faces who are convinced they will win the jackpot if they put in another quarter. I don’t feel that way. The few auditions I took in the 80’s were successful, meaning I was at least a semi-finalist if not a finalist. I prepare for auditions with every cell in my body, mind and spirit. It takes years to prepare the foundation, then as the date nears, it becomes my life for months.

St. Louis was not meant to be for me, or perhaps I wasn’t meant for St. Louis. I wouldn’t have hired me! I was frightfully insecure and doubtful, not a good way to win. I’m sure my playing demonstrated my abilities, but certainly not at an Olympic level.

Someone recently told me she avoided broadcasting their intention to audition, especially to non-musicians. Even a good player loses more than they win. She recounted how frustrating it was to be asked innocently by non-musicians of the outcome of her “job application”, then have to explain that repeatedly failing, even chronically failing to win an audition is a relatively normal event in a musician’s life, unlike applying for a clerk or server position. One oboist I know took some 49 auditions before nailing a top 10 job. Something akin to building the Pyramids in Egypt, day by patient, persistent day.

So now I begin, again, to take auditions. This time I have secured (most of) my equipment to a high and stable level of quality. For the past year I have also gained, or perhaps refreshed, my self-confidence using all available techniques, including good old fashioned positive thinking and supportive friendships. I’ve also practiced and performed more solo works to put myself under more pressure.

I got “the list” a week ago. The list of music required is your map to the treasure, the puzzle to be unlocked. A lot can be learned from the list. Most big orchestras keep their lists fairly short, perhaps eight or ten excerpts. And most will specify the sections they wish to hear. Some will even make copies of all the parts they require, to clear up the often confusing issue of various conflicting editions of any one composition. This list cites 18 entire pieces, without any indication of movements or sections to be emphasized.

Clearly, they seek a Federer or Rodick for the job. Somehow I am not daunted. Since I have played principal clarinet for 25 years, I have played all the music they request in its entirety. I am as experienced for this position as anyone.

It’s one thing to be experienced, however, and another to be ready. To be ready to play any of those pieces any time, day or night, I must increase my endurance, flexibility and consistency. I have two months to do it.

The first thing I did was pull out a scale book, the most advanced I have, and began a daily regimen of several hours of basic technique. So that’s where I am as of this report, in audition “boot camp”.

I will report regularly on what and how I’m practicing. See you soon. I’m off to do scales.

Practicing Techniques

Published
by
dtclarinet
on February 17, 2007
in Behind the Scenes and Mastery
. 8 Comments

A musician can never stop practicing anytime in their career. I believe it was the great cellist Rostropovich (or was it Casals) who said, “If I don’t practice for one day, I notice a decline in quality; if it’s two days without practice, my wife notices; three days, my neighbor notices.”

Over the years my practice habits have sagged. Various illnesses and physical problems struck me down hard and repeatedly for about 5 years. And, to be honest, my passion for my instrument also sagged during those periods. I eventually went through a crisis in confidence and self-respect.

During that time I saw the movie Spiderman 2. In the movie, Spiderman loses his “powers” for some mysterious reason, but which had something to do with lack of belief in himself. He goes through a crisis of identity. I related to his condition at the time. My playing had not changed much from the outside, but my belief in myself as a strong player had declined seriously.

Over my long “recovery” of confidence, I rediscovered the most basic habits of good practicing. They are: Consistency, Physical Relaxation (Poise), Patience, Focus and Efficiency. These habits, of course, are quite general and can be applied to any complex individual task.

Practicing is a lonely task. It is tedious, repetitive, frustrating, and seemingly endless. The “myth of Sisyphus”, where Sisyphus pushes a huge boulder up a mountain everyday, only to find it at the bottom again the next, exemplifies the endless tediousness of practicing. But by cultivating the basic habits outlined above, one can chip away the mountain, or at least find the most efficient route to keep the boulder at the top more and more consistently.

Let’s look at each habit more closely.

Consistency: This is the most basic rule for accomplishing any long term project in life. And it is primary to being a succesful musician. One of my old teachers, Robert Marcellus, claimed that the students who practiced their scales daily were the ones most likely to succeed. A local trumpet player, whose playing is the most consistent I’ve ever heard, warms up exactly the same way before any rehearsal or concert.

I begin the day with slow scales, which can be described as combination of long-tones and scales. I start with the lowest register of the clarinet, where the air can be relaxed and full, where the embouchure can be the softest. I play the scale one octave, whole notes, using a full sound, then descend the next half step up, continuing up the to the highest range of the instrument. I also add some legato tonguing, to be sure that muscle is also poised and focused. This way I slowly warm up the body: fingers, embouchure, tongue and air without stress. This warm also helps me be sure my body is Relaxed and Poised.

Consistency does not just mean regularity here. One must be consistent in attitude and focus during each session and during the entire practice session.

Patience: One cannot practice in a hurry. That is when the most damage is done. An uncanny aspect of the body is that it learns fast, even mistakes. A passage played wrong once takes three times to correct. Slow down, mentally and physically. Find the level at which you can play something and work from there. Anger and frustration accomplish nothing. Take a break if you are on edge. Taking many small breaks helps me stay balanced and focused.

This brings me to the next habit, Focus. One cannot practice without being alert and focused. One of the most difficult aspects of being a professional musician is the odd hours we have to keep. My orchestra can schedule performances or rehearsals anytime from 10 AM to 8 PM. My body and mind must be able to focus at any time. The obvious implication here is the importance of proper rest, diet and exercise to maintain our real instrument, the body.

Practice time must be kept clear of distractions to allow focus as intense as a surgeon’s in order to refine and improve the smallest details in one’s playing. There is no other way to improve. Bludgeoning away at something without close attention will only ingrain sloppy habits. This brings me to efficiency of thought and action.

Efficiency: Like a scientist, we must closely observe patterns in our playing and analyze limitations for solutions. Developing problem solving skills is crucial. Experimentation is recommended if a solution is not obvious. A good teacher can help student learn efficient problem solving.

If I am learning a difficult passage, the first thing I do is isolate the biggest problem spots. Let’s say I am learning a passage of fast sixteenth notes where a group of four notes are slowing me down. I drop the rest of the passage and focus on problem group. I may repeat them slowly a few times, or try different rhythms to gain finger dexterity.

But I also look at all aspects of those notes and check off what might be causing the glitch. Is my air steady through those notes? This is often the hidden problem with technique on a wind instrument. Without steady air, no passage will flow easily.

Then I look at each change of fingering in the passage. Are the fingers moving as efficiently as possible, staying over the keys without tension or gripping? I may notice that the fingerings between just two notes requires 5 or 6 fingers to move. This may be the tripping point. If so, I’ll create a trill exercise using just those two notes. This is just one example of how detailed focus can improve one tiny passage in a larger work.

During this detailed analysis, I occasionally remind myself to “stay in the room”. By this I mean keep the body and mind in the physical present, so as not to lose awareness of creeping tension in any part of body or mind while focusing narrowly on a detail. Staying open physically and mentally during tedious practice is probably one of the most important habits one can cultivate as a musician.

The underlying foundation of all good playing is belief in oneself. A musician cannot accomplish much without that basic self trust. But by employing the habits detailed above, one can gain confidence and control over one’s body and instrument.

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.