I haven't blogged about running for quite a while. I continue to run and keep in shape. This summer I'm working on building my aerobic base and getting ready for some races this fall.
The main goal this fall will be the New York City Marathon!
I'm running as part of Team Boomer. Team Boomer is run by former Cincinnati Bengals quarterback, Boomer Esiason. He is very involved with the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation through the Boomer Esiason Foundation.
That's a charity that's near and dear to my heart as my 10-year old neice, Allie Plymale has CF. She's my hero and I'll be running in her honor.
A requirement for participation in the race through Team Boomer is raising a certain amount of money. I started at the end of June and it has gone pretty well.
All of the money I raise will go to fight Cystic Fibrosis. I'll be paying my own expenses to get to the Marathon.
Some of you reading this have already donated.
If anyone else would like to, I would greatly appreciate it!
You may donate by going to my fundraising page or by sending me a check if you prefer not to donate online.
Team Boomer is highly rated by Charity Navigator and donating is easy and very secure.
This will be the only time I'll use this blog to ask for donations. Thanks very much for your support in ANY AMOUNT.
Here I am finishing the 2009 Boston Marathon!
Friday, July 27, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Breathe, Don't Blow
(K. David Van Hoesen)
Breathe, Don't Blow
This is the title of an article written by C. Robert Reinert and Alan Goodman. It was published in the Double Reed in 1998. I find it to be the best explanation of how to create a beautiful, resonant sound on the bassoon.
Please read this article before reading further in this post.
http://www.idrs.org/publications/controlled/DR/DR21.3/115breathe.pdf
High Points and Reactions
Although Reinert and Goodman use some jargon, the article is very concise and clearly written.
After a short introduction, they state that the most important part of making a beautiful sound happens before the sound is initiated.
"Technique aside, there is nothing more important than being able to visualize the sound, the quality, the ease, the inevitability of a beautiful tone."
If there is no tonal concept for guidance, the player will not be able to focus. This will be readily apparent to anyone listening.
Next come the following statements:
"It is the presence of resistance that determines the quality of tone. Too little resistance produces a weak tone, thin and poor. Too much resistance produces a tone heavy, thick, and unmanageable to attacks and coloration."
"The least amount of resistance that produces a full tone is recommended."
I couldn't agree with this more! Sometimes we get stuck on the idea that more resistance is good because it allows us to push more air into the reed. While this may feel good because we're putting in more effort, the will not be commensurately more resonant.
Reinert and Goodman explain:
"Waves travel, not air. Waves do not travel as a consequence of being "blown" by a large stream of air. Blowing harder does not project the sound. Carrying power is supplied by the fullest resonance of overtones."
This is brilliantly put! If the reed, bocal or bassoon won't resonate or if there are impeding tensions in the player's body, no amount of blowing can "create" a projecting, resonant, beautiful sound. You cannot force a bassoon to resonate.
In this matter I believe the bassoon (with its flexible reed) is closer to a stringed instrument (with its pliant strings) than a brass instrument. What happens when a string player presses the bow harder and harder against the strings? The result is just like the description of resistance above. Not enough produces a thin tone, too much produces a tone that is too thick and unmanageable. Somewhere in between the player must find the resistance that's just right. (Take that, Goldilocks!)
So how is the desired sound created? Through the use of "pressure energy". I found this to be a somewhat elusive term.
However, by reading further, it occurred to me that maybe they are referring to the pressure of the excess air in the lungs at the end of the inhalation phase of breathing -- the simple need to expel air to equalize the pressure in and outside of the body.
There are two ways to do this, one by simply blowing (easy for soft, hard for loud).
The other is by supporting the sound by using two opposing forces.
Inhalation pressure is built up during inhalation and "held" during exhalation. Exhalation pressure is exerted during exhalation only.
The two forces work together. The analogy used of two hands pushing against one another is perfect for the description of abdominal support necessary for a resonant tone.
It is important to note the emphasis on the muscles of the abdomen and back in their discussion. There is never a sense of pushing or pulling these muscles in as you play, rather the midsection exerts an outward pressure. This can be felt as the "reluctance" of the pressure of inhalation to yield to the pressure of exhalation. A yin and yang of pressures! You can't have one without the other.
Yes, the chest and abdomen will naturally draw in at the end of the breath, but proper support comes through the gentle resistance to this action. Singers talk of "raising the sternum" for support. My teacher, David VanHoesen advocated expanding the chest out slightly with a bit of an arch in the small of the back for a more resonant tone.
Try these and see if you hear more resonance in your sound. Don't take these actions to the extreme. There should be no pain or tension involved!
As the 2012 Summer Olympics approach, I find much inspiration in learning from the athletes. Watch the sprinters at the start. There is NO tension in their bodies. It would be counterproductive for a sprinter to tense up prior to starting -- so why do we musicians tend to do this before initiating the sound?? Tension is the enemy of resonance!
After the start, the best look fluid and graceful, even while applying maximum effort for speed. They have learned to direct all their energy towards their goal -- a winning time. As musicians we should always strive for a sound that has resonance and beauty!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Bassoon Sound Challenges -- A Good Buzz?
(George Goslee with George Szell)
Before I leave the topic of challenges the bassoonist must face in producing a tone that projects and has resonance and beauty, I need to investigate a few specific concepts.
In my previous post I discussed how to project the sound. However, it's not usually possible to tell while playing if your sound is projecting or not. What are some of the impressions or signs of a projecting tone the player experiences while playing?
Good Buzz?
I actually hate this term as applied to bassoon sound, but I thought it might catch your attention! Seriously, though, any sound that projects needs to have a certain brilliance to it to carry to the back of an auditorium.
Judging what is the right amount of brilliance (edge, buzz, whatever you want to call it) is very difficult and extremely subjective. Here are some thoughts:
- The "Dark Side" It seems that everyone wants to have a "dark" sound these days. I don't know what this means. "The Cleveland Orchestra has a dark sound" is a comment made about our sonority frequently.
- Have you ever gone back stage after a theatrical performance to greet the actors? What does their makeup look like? Grotesque, right?! However, back in your seat it looked just right.
- It's human nature to try to impress those around you. However, we play for an audience in an acoustical environment. If our sound is beautiful and mellow right where our peers can hear us, it probably won't carry past the stage.
- Therefore, there needs to be a little bit of roughness in the sound. Words are hard to find for this. . . A great bassoon sound up close has a purring quality or a gentle ripping sound.
- Singers call this "squillo". Along with the core of the sound there is a slight buzzing or ringing quality that doesn't seem to relate to the pitch being played.
- Some of the great performers didn't necessarily sound absolutely beautiful up close. Heifetz' sound supposedly had a bit of junk in it close up. But far away. . .
How to Achieve It
How do you know if your sound is beautiful and resonant far away? The easiest way is to have a friend listen in the seats during a concert and provide honest feedback. Recording yourself can be helpful, but may not really capture how you sound to a human being.
When you have a reed, instrument, etc. that gives the right impression to the listener, try to memorize how the reed feels and sounds right around you. It may be a bit different from what you're looking for, but, given an honest friend, you'll have to trust it.
Try to make reeds and play on them in such a way as to reproduce the memorized impression.
Having access to a good concert hall may be difficult. Students often have to practice in carpeted bedrooms or tiny practice rooms. Sneak into a church or recital hall and try these things out.
Alternatively, play in one room and have a friend go out into the hallway down 20-30 yards away and listen.
Don't Go Overboard
Orchestras are getting louder and louder. Bassoonists are pushed to the limit to project. It's very easy to lose track of the kind of sound you want.
A former teacher of mine (not K. David VanHoesen) played in a major orchestra. He was a great bassoon player but, due to the extremely loud brass section, he felt the need to compete. Often you could hear him above the brass section. However, you couldn't tell what pitch he was playing -- the tone was all edge.
In these situations, it's best just to relax and let the brass do what they do best. When pushed by the conductor to give more, try your best, but maybe have a diplomatic conversation with him/her at a break about balance and limits, etc. A wise conductor balances the orchestra to the solo being played.
Avoid the Dark Side
Beware of the "Dark Side". A beautiful sound is a wonderful thing, but it must be shared with those who came to hear you. Reserve some brilliance in the sound to help it carry.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Sound -- Challenges for the Bassoonist
(George Goslee 1916-2006)
There is no perfect instrument. All instruments have inherent strengths and weaknesses.
The mighty tone of the piano, the King of Instruments, is forever doomed to die away seconds after being struck. The noble violin is limited by the bow, the glorious voice by its breath.
The bassoon tone is one of great subtlety and character. Its tone is chameleon-like, adding lustre to just about any instrument with which it is paired. Many bassoonists were first attracted to the instrument by its sound.
However, when compared with the piano or violin, it is a seriously limited instrument. Aside from its technical challenges, there are sonic problems that must be addressed.
A quick perusal of works by great composers shows how the bassoon can be used effectively in the orchestra. The bassoon is the "utility" player of the wind section. It can play a great bass line, spin a counter-melody, accompany an oboe or flute solo and even carry the solo line itself.
However, there are reasons why composers feature the bassoon as soloist in the orchestra less often than most of the others.
Projection
One of the first problems with which a bassoonist must contend is projection. This is not normally a problem for instruments like the oboe or saxophone which naturally project. Indeed, players of these instruments spend a lot of time taming their tone to make it fit in!
When the bassoonist tries to project in the manner of a trombonist or clarinetist, the result not successful. The decibel range of the bassoon is simply not as large as that of the trombone.
Indeed, sometimes the bassoon section just becomes "flyover territory" for the brass section!
So if the bassoonist can't (or doesn't want to) compete with the trombone section, what is it that does make a bassoon sound project?
I believe that projection comes from the resonance and focus in the sound.
Resonance
This is a great term. Think of the sound you make as being so compelling that it causes a sympathetic vibration in the listener's body -- a re-sounding if you will.
Resonance on the bassoon is not created by force.
Try this: take a C# in the bass cleff staff and make a crescendo by using more and more force. What happens! You reach a point at which using more air actually makes the tone smaller. The resistance of the C# combined with the increase of air speed inside the reed creates a vacuum, causing the reed to collapse, dampening its vibrations and giving a diminuendo!
Thus, at a certain point, using force backfires. While the C# is an extreme case, the same principle holds true for the rest of the notes on the bassoon.
Instead, the reed and instrument must be freed to vibrate. The player must let things vibrate and not try to make them vibrate. Creating resonance means using an energetic airstream, but also staying "out of the way" of the reed, cushioning or holding the sound instead of pushing or shoving it.
A lot of my work with myself and with students involves finding ways to support, yet stay out of the way of resonance and "letting it happen".
Focus
One of my favorite qualities of the bassoon tone is its great subtlety and versatility. However, these same qualities give a less straightforward impression to the listener than that of the trumpet or piccolo, for instance. I believe this is due to a lack of focus in the bassoon's acoustical makeup.
The bassoon tone is known to have rich harmonics and a relatively weak fundamental. Perhaps this is why it blends so well with other instruments. The partials fill in frequencies lacking in the other instruments, while the weak fundamental keeps the bassoon from sticking out.
Above is a spectrograph of my low B. I recorded my low B in a recording studio, along with several other pitches. (Thanks to Bruce Gigax for recording and Ross Duffin for graphing the frequencies.)
In the graph, the strength of a particular component of the sound (resonance peak) is measured in decibels on the vertical axis. These are shown as the peaks with very sharp slopes. Interspersed are other peaks in the shape of a line that are probably due to room resonance and not part of the sound. Notice also the large red area under the peaks. This is where the "noise" in the sound resides.
The horizontal axis measures the frequency of each peak for Low B.
1st peak = Fundamental = 62 Hz (approx.)
2nd peak = 1st harmonic = 124 Hz or equal to B in bass clef staff
3rd peak = 2nd harmonic = 186 Hz roughly F# in bass clef staff
etc.
Low B is one of the most unfocused notes on the bassoon. Play this note into a tuner and you may notice that you get a stronger reading for F# than you do B. This can be confirmed by checking the graph. The resonance peak for the 2nd harmonic (F# - third peak from the left on the graph) is stronger than the resonance peak for the fundamental (1st peak from the left). Indeed some tuners may confuse this note for an F#.
The shortness and relative similarity in height of each resonance peak provide physical evidence of why this note is so unfocused. The ear has trouble picking out the predominant resonance for this note.
Here is a more focused note (C3 or first ledger line C).
In this graph you can see that the peaks are much more distinct and vary greatly in height. Also, the "noise" area is much lower than in the B spectrograph. This C has a clear, ringing tone.
I'll deal more with acoustics in a future post.
A spectrograph of oboe sound or violin sound would show a much stronger fundamental and even better defined resonance peaks. A recent analysis of violin sound (a 2007 California State Science Fair project!) found that between 70-92% of an individual pitch resided in the fundamental alone. That left 8-30% for the harmonics of the pitch. These instruments have much more focused tones than the bassoon.
How To Focus
Putting aside instrument and bocal quality, a focused sound can be attained by a fastidious attention to the scrape of the reed. This is especially true in the tip area. I find that getting the slope of the tip just right and having the right amount of change of thickness from center(spine) to sides is essential.
When I get this scrape just right my sound has greater resonance, almost like viewing something in 2 dimensions and then suddenly putting on 3-D glasses. I've written about this in more detail in a previous post.
Another element essential for focusing the sound is embouchure placement. Try playing a note, but taking more or less reed in the mouth and see what positioning does for the focus of the sound.
Perhaps the most important part of producing a focused sound is in how the airstream is used. Some instruments practically focus themselves. You just have to blow into them. Those who have played the saxophone know what I'm talking about!
Not so with the bassoon. The player must use a very disciplined airstream to focus the sound. An open oral cavity, throat and chest are balanced with a firmness in the abdomen to support and direct the air towards the reed.
In my next post, I'll provide a link to a wonderful article on how to use the air when playing the bassoon, "Breathe, Don't Blow" and give my reactions to it. I think it's the best thing I've ever read on how the air should be used to play the bassoon.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Bassoon Sound - An Overview
J. Walter Guetter (1895-1937)
BASSOON SOUND -- AN OVERVIEW
With this post, I'd like to begin a series of blogs about bassoon sound. I realize I'm wading into rough waters by doing this, since it's nearly impossible to accurately describe sound in words.
However, since sound is personal and eludes objective description, it is one of the most touching and poetic aspects of making music. As they say, "Music takes over when words fail".
How To Begin?
I'll try to choose my words carefully and look for creative ways of making my points.
To start with I'll avoid the words "bright" and "dark" as those words don't mean much to me. They have become charged with negative (bright) and positive (dark) meaning and would only serve to divide the community reading this.
Instead, I'll enumerate what I consider the desired qualities of a good bassoon sound and devote separate posts to examining sound from several different angles.
What I say here will be opinionated and, in some cases, controversial. Some of you may disagree with what I have to say, but that's OK. How dull the music world would be if we all agreed on what is the perfect sound, all sounded alike!
It's wonderful that bassoon sound has yet to become as narrowly defined as say the clarinet or oboe sound has in the United States. Those that agree with what I have to say about bassoon sound may be strengthened in their convictions by my words. Those that disagree may better be able to define their principles based upon reaction to my musings.
I hope for some healthy discussion at any rate!
Desired Qualities of a Good Bassoon Sound
- Complexity or richness
- Carrying power
- Flexibility
- Equal to other instruments of the orchestra
I believe a good bassoon sound, like any other acoustic instrumental sound, should have a complexity or richness to it that attracts many different listeners. Some will like the brilliance in your sound, others will pick up on the fullness or body, etc.
The bassoon sound should carry or project so that when it has the leading line it is heard distinctly.
The sound should also be flexible when needed. No one likes a sound that stays the same for very long. It should be changeable at the whim of the performer or at the demand of the music.
Lastly, a good bassoon sound should strive to be as multi-facted and expressive as any other instrument of the orchestra.
Looking Ahead
In this series, you can expect posts about:
- Strengths and weaknesses inherent in bassoon sound. All instruments have their strengths and weaknesses. A great performer uses the strengths and finds ways to compensate for the weaknesses.
- The best approach for using the air to produce a great sound.
- An acoustic analysis of bassoon sound with sound clips and spectrographs of my own sound using different reeds.
- An historical perspective of the development of an American bassoon sound (with sound examples)
- An aesthetic approach to describing sound from the world of painting.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Verdi's Requiem or a Test of Flexibility
Verdi's Requiem or a Test of Flexibility
We finished our season last weekend with two performances of the Verdi Requiem. I still have the sounds of the Dies Irae ringing in my head!
I'd like to use this piece as a point of departure for the topic of flexibility in performance.
For the bassoonist, the Requiem features many wonderful passages, including a long obbligato part for 1st bassoon in the Quid Sum Miser section of the Dies Irae (the second movement of the piece). Below is the 1st bassoon part for that section:
A quick perusal of the part reveals a steady, but tortuous series of 16th notes with a hairpin under many of the groups of six. You can see cues for 2 clarinets before the solo starts and some cues for the Soprano during rests, so there are some other things going on during this. The end of one measure has the marking, "col canto", so something interesting must happen there.
However, aside from these little clues it's hard to view this solo as anything other than a very long, steady stream of 16ths -- a rhythm that's nearly constant throughout.
This would lead you to practice it that way, certainly, to make sure that the legato is smooth and the fingers are very accurate and even.
A look at the score shows that Soprano, Mezzo and Tenor soloists are singing during this passage, but their lines look smooth -- mostly eighths and quarters. Very little to get in the way of a steady flow.
Then comes the first rehearsal and all bets are off!
The conductor starts the section at one tempo, you come in and play in time with the beat. The mezzo enters at a different tempo and stays that way. You have to adjust, suddenly slowing down. Nearly losing your place, you drop a phrase trying to follow her and the conductor has a spasm in order to follow her as well.
Just as the new tempo settles in you approach a cadence and the mezzo needs a breath. She appears to come to a near halt in the middle of bar 282 for the breath and takes her time with the 16ths that follow. The two eighth rests in your part seem to last for ever and you're tempted to enter early, interrupting her 16ths.
At this point, you're wary that there will be more interruptions in the steady flow of the rhythm and are watching the conductor like a hawk and trying to listen for the soloists in order to stay on track.
You may be tempted to put down the bassoon and intone the first words of the section which are, "What can a miserable wretch like me say?"
Something like this happened this week in the rehearsals, although not so dramatically. John Clouser played the 1st bassoon part (beautifully, by the way!) and this is what I've experienced when I've played the 1st bassoon part as well.
Hope For the Best, But Prepare For the Worst
Well, maybe things aren't really that bad, but this motto is a good way to approach the preparation of a major solo in orchestral repertoire!
After lots of careful practice, some listening and score study, come to the first rehearsal with a fully-formed interpretation of a solo or major part and execute it that way.
I think conductors and others -- whether they admit it or not -- like it when others take responsibility for music making in this way. They don't have to spend precious rehearsal time spoon feeding you their interpretation. Besides, you may hate the way they want it to go!
Of course, they may have (and often do) have something to say after you've played it through, but that's to be expected, isn't it?! As Arnold Jacobs, the former tuba player for the Chicago Symphony used to say, "It's better to have something to disagree with than to have nothing to talk about."
The Maitre D'
I like to imagine orchestral musicians as wine experts or the wait staff in a Zagat-rated gourmet restaurant. You know what your regular clientele like to order, where they like to sit, how to pace the service to make their dining experience most enjoyable, etc. You start with these assumptions, developed over years of experience.
However, occasionally there will be a day when Mr. X doesn't want his usual pre-dinner martini. Instead, tonight he wants to try something different. What would you recommend, knowing his tastes?
While not a mind reader, a good waiter can make an educated guess as to what to offer.
Tips For Preparation
These surprises can be rehearsed in your preparation. As I said above, no one can read minds, but, after playing for a conductor for a period of years, you should have a mental file on his/her tempo choices, musical ideas, etc. You can try these out in practice sessions leading up to the first rehearsal.
In the case of the Verdi, the rubatos and breathing of the singers is well documented in recordings. Listening to a few can help you be ready for tempo curve balls.
When preparing for an audition, sometimes it's helpful to play the excerpts in ways that you don't actually agree with to build flexibility. Sometimes, being asked to play an excerpt again with a different, dictated approach is the way a committee uses to break an impasse in their voting.
I know I won a job once by the way I played a solo in the first movement of Shostakovich Symphony #1.
Willard Elliot told me that in the final round of his Chicago Symphony audition he was asked to perform the Bolero solo at quarter=63 (much slower than usual). His success in this helped put him over the top.
During the Rehearsal/Performance
These curve balls are thrown during a rehearsal or even a performance. Things happen and you have to adjust.
Building in flexibility during practice (becoming comfortable with different tempos, interpretations, etc.) can help you adjust in the moment. Have a friend ask you to play a passage very differently from the usual way to see how you adjust. Is there a way of playing it that keeps some of your ideas intact while incorporating the new ones?
In addition, try not to get locked into one way of gathering instant feedback for yourself while playing, i.e., by just watching the conductor. Often they are as frazzled as you are when a soloist strays from the tempo in a performance.
I try to take in a measure or so of music at a time and look up so I can see what's going on on and around the podium, looking down when I need more music to continue. Kind of like a swimmer coming up for air during the stroke. A good short term memory is helpful!
During an audition once a conductor came up on stage and conducted me in the Firebird Berceuse. It was just the two of us there, so why was he doing this? I guessed it was because he wanted to see if I could follow his non-verbal instructions. I played the solo from memory, looking at him the whole time. Sure enough, he did give me some instructions with his gestures which I tried to incorporate in my performance. Again, maybe it wasn't how I would have executed the solo, but I had to put those assumptions aside and show flexibility. I won that job, too.
Your knowledge of what else is going on in the score really can come to your aid when the unexpected happens .
Do you know the solo part well enough to accompany it without the help of the conductor?
If you can't see/hear the soloist, can you position yourself a little better? If not, are there others playing on whom you can guide?
These are some of the resources available to you for survival and success in a tough situation.
*Note to bassoonists reading this: You may have noticed in the scanned part above that there are several misprints in the Peters edition of this piece in the part, including three wrong pitches! Consult the score before learning this part. Excerpt books also have some minor discrepancies.
We finished our season last weekend with two performances of the Verdi Requiem. I still have the sounds of the Dies Irae ringing in my head!
I'd like to use this piece as a point of departure for the topic of flexibility in performance.
For the bassoonist, the Requiem features many wonderful passages, including a long obbligato part for 1st bassoon in the Quid Sum Miser section of the Dies Irae (the second movement of the piece). Below is the 1st bassoon part for that section:
A quick perusal of the part reveals a steady, but tortuous series of 16th notes with a hairpin under many of the groups of six. You can see cues for 2 clarinets before the solo starts and some cues for the Soprano during rests, so there are some other things going on during this. The end of one measure has the marking, "col canto", so something interesting must happen there.
However, aside from these little clues it's hard to view this solo as anything other than a very long, steady stream of 16ths -- a rhythm that's nearly constant throughout.
This would lead you to practice it that way, certainly, to make sure that the legato is smooth and the fingers are very accurate and even.
A look at the score shows that Soprano, Mezzo and Tenor soloists are singing during this passage, but their lines look smooth -- mostly eighths and quarters. Very little to get in the way of a steady flow.
Then comes the first rehearsal and all bets are off!
The conductor starts the section at one tempo, you come in and play in time with the beat. The mezzo enters at a different tempo and stays that way. You have to adjust, suddenly slowing down. Nearly losing your place, you drop a phrase trying to follow her and the conductor has a spasm in order to follow her as well.
Just as the new tempo settles in you approach a cadence and the mezzo needs a breath. She appears to come to a near halt in the middle of bar 282 for the breath and takes her time with the 16ths that follow. The two eighth rests in your part seem to last for ever and you're tempted to enter early, interrupting her 16ths.
At this point, you're wary that there will be more interruptions in the steady flow of the rhythm and are watching the conductor like a hawk and trying to listen for the soloists in order to stay on track.
You may be tempted to put down the bassoon and intone the first words of the section which are, "What can a miserable wretch like me say?"
Something like this happened this week in the rehearsals, although not so dramatically. John Clouser played the 1st bassoon part (beautifully, by the way!) and this is what I've experienced when I've played the 1st bassoon part as well.
Hope For the Best, But Prepare For the Worst
Well, maybe things aren't really that bad, but this motto is a good way to approach the preparation of a major solo in orchestral repertoire!
After lots of careful practice, some listening and score study, come to the first rehearsal with a fully-formed interpretation of a solo or major part and execute it that way.
I think conductors and others -- whether they admit it or not -- like it when others take responsibility for music making in this way. They don't have to spend precious rehearsal time spoon feeding you their interpretation. Besides, you may hate the way they want it to go!
Of course, they may have (and often do) have something to say after you've played it through, but that's to be expected, isn't it?! As Arnold Jacobs, the former tuba player for the Chicago Symphony used to say, "It's better to have something to disagree with than to have nothing to talk about."
The Maitre D'
I like to imagine orchestral musicians as wine experts or the wait staff in a Zagat-rated gourmet restaurant. You know what your regular clientele like to order, where they like to sit, how to pace the service to make their dining experience most enjoyable, etc. You start with these assumptions, developed over years of experience.
However, occasionally there will be a day when Mr. X doesn't want his usual pre-dinner martini. Instead, tonight he wants to try something different. What would you recommend, knowing his tastes?
While not a mind reader, a good waiter can make an educated guess as to what to offer.
Tips For Preparation
These surprises can be rehearsed in your preparation. As I said above, no one can read minds, but, after playing for a conductor for a period of years, you should have a mental file on his/her tempo choices, musical ideas, etc. You can try these out in practice sessions leading up to the first rehearsal.
In the case of the Verdi, the rubatos and breathing of the singers is well documented in recordings. Listening to a few can help you be ready for tempo curve balls.
When preparing for an audition, sometimes it's helpful to play the excerpts in ways that you don't actually agree with to build flexibility. Sometimes, being asked to play an excerpt again with a different, dictated approach is the way a committee uses to break an impasse in their voting.
I know I won a job once by the way I played a solo in the first movement of Shostakovich Symphony #1.
Willard Elliot told me that in the final round of his Chicago Symphony audition he was asked to perform the Bolero solo at quarter=63 (much slower than usual). His success in this helped put him over the top.
During the Rehearsal/Performance
These curve balls are thrown during a rehearsal or even a performance. Things happen and you have to adjust.
Building in flexibility during practice (becoming comfortable with different tempos, interpretations, etc.) can help you adjust in the moment. Have a friend ask you to play a passage very differently from the usual way to see how you adjust. Is there a way of playing it that keeps some of your ideas intact while incorporating the new ones?
In addition, try not to get locked into one way of gathering instant feedback for yourself while playing, i.e., by just watching the conductor. Often they are as frazzled as you are when a soloist strays from the tempo in a performance.
I try to take in a measure or so of music at a time and look up so I can see what's going on on and around the podium, looking down when I need more music to continue. Kind of like a swimmer coming up for air during the stroke. A good short term memory is helpful!
During an audition once a conductor came up on stage and conducted me in the Firebird Berceuse. It was just the two of us there, so why was he doing this? I guessed it was because he wanted to see if I could follow his non-verbal instructions. I played the solo from memory, looking at him the whole time. Sure enough, he did give me some instructions with his gestures which I tried to incorporate in my performance. Again, maybe it wasn't how I would have executed the solo, but I had to put those assumptions aside and show flexibility. I won that job, too.
Your knowledge of what else is going on in the score really can come to your aid when the unexpected happens .
Do you know the solo part well enough to accompany it without the help of the conductor?
If you can't see/hear the soloist, can you position yourself a little better? If not, are there others playing on whom you can guide?
These are some of the resources available to you for survival and success in a tough situation.
*Note to bassoonists reading this: You may have noticed in the scanned part above that there are several misprints in the Peters edition of this piece in the part, including three wrong pitches! Consult the score before learning this part. Excerpt books also have some minor discrepancies.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
The Heckelphon!
The Heckelphon
There's a weird instrument sitting in front of me in the orchestra this week.
We are performing Strauss's Salome in concert at Carnegie Hall tomorrow night and this Saturday night in Severance Hall. Strauss was a champion of this exotic instrument.
Wagner had the idea for it when vacationing near the Heckel factory in Biebrich (a suburb of Weisbaden). He visited Heckel and said the following:
After much work, Heckel brought out the Heckelphon in 1904. It is fingered like the oboe, but uses a reed so similar to the bassoon reed that players often get them from bassoonists and modify them.
Our Assistant Principal Oboist, Jeff Rathbun is playing Heckelphon in our concerts. He is using a few of my reeds. He narrowed the shape considerably and I had to ream the reeds an extreme amount to get them to fit securely on the bocal. Because the instrument is so long, the player usually sits on a stool to play it.
The bell is spherical and has two holes in it. There is an end pin on the end.
The embouchure for the Heckelphon is much like the bassoon. The slack-jawed touch is sometimes difficult for oboists. Indeed, bassoon players --with a little help with fingerings -- often more easily pick up this instrument than oboists do.
The sound, as you can imagine, is like a "gamey" English Horn. Though Strauss wrote extensively for it in all ranges, it's real feature is in its low register where it has an uncanny sound -- just right for Salome!
There is a low Bb in the part near the end of the opera. It is joined by the contrabassoon on its low Bb. One of the joys of double reed writing! Unfortunately, it's very hard to cover the sound and the Bb just tends to bleat out. This low Bb is written "ppp", so Jeff has come up with a novel solution for a mute. (Heckel does make a mute for this instrument, by the way!).
Bed, Bath and Beyond comes through!
There's a weird instrument sitting in front of me in the orchestra this week.
We are performing Strauss's Salome in concert at Carnegie Hall tomorrow night and this Saturday night in Severance Hall. Strauss was a champion of this exotic instrument.
Wagner had the idea for it when vacationing near the Heckel factory in Biebrich (a suburb of Weisbaden). He visited Heckel and said the following:
| ".... A sound factor of the kind of double reed instruments was missing, which was one octave lower than the oboe; the instrument should combine the character of the oboe with the soft, however, powerful sound of the Alpenhorn....." |
After much work, Heckel brought out the Heckelphon in 1904. It is fingered like the oboe, but uses a reed so similar to the bassoon reed that players often get them from bassoonists and modify them.
Our Assistant Principal Oboist, Jeff Rathbun is playing Heckelphon in our concerts. He is using a few of my reeds. He narrowed the shape considerably and I had to ream the reeds an extreme amount to get them to fit securely on the bocal. Because the instrument is so long, the player usually sits on a stool to play it.
The bell is spherical and has two holes in it. There is an end pin on the end.
The embouchure for the Heckelphon is much like the bassoon. The slack-jawed touch is sometimes difficult for oboists. Indeed, bassoon players --with a little help with fingerings -- often more easily pick up this instrument than oboists do.
The sound, as you can imagine, is like a "gamey" English Horn. Though Strauss wrote extensively for it in all ranges, it's real feature is in its low register where it has an uncanny sound -- just right for Salome!
There is a low Bb in the part near the end of the opera. It is joined by the contrabassoon on its low Bb. One of the joys of double reed writing! Unfortunately, it's very hard to cover the sound and the Bb just tends to bleat out. This low Bb is written "ppp", so Jeff has come up with a novel solution for a mute. (Heckel does make a mute for this instrument, by the way!).
Bed, Bath and Beyond comes through!
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