April 2013 Archives - The Instrumentalist

Scheherazade

theinstrumenta — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 23:01:41 +0000

    Rimsky-Korsakov’s musical fairy tale, Scheherazade, is a quintessential programmatic work and an example of the composer’s glittering gift of transparent and evocative orchestration. Premiered in 1888, it is written in four movements, each with a descriptive title: 1.The Sea and Sinbad’s Ship, 2.The Tale of the Prince Kalendar, 3.The Young Prince and the Young Princess, and 4.The Festival in Baghdad.
    The piece parallels the action in stories from The Thousand and One Nights, sometimes called the Arabian Nights. An edition of the story by the French translator Antoine Galland was popular in the West throughout the 19th century. Rimsky-Korsakov included this brief program note in the score and at the premiere:
    “The Sultan Schariar, convinced that all women are false and faithless, vowed to put to death each of his wives after the first nuptial night. But the Sultana Scheherazade saved her life by entertaining her lord with fascinating tales, told seriatim, (serially) for a thousand and one nights. The Sultan, consumed with curiosity, postponed from day to day the execution of his wife, and finally repudiated his bloody vow entirely.”
    The solo violin is the voice of Scheherazade, with solos that weave throughout the work, beginning with the 17th bar of the piece and ending on the last notes. The heroine proves that the power of love is ultimately the strongest emotion and can overcome fear as the violin solo also brings the piece to a serene conclusion.
    The entire work lasts about 45 minutes and is scored for two flutes (the second flutist will also double on piccolo for just a few measures in the second movement) and piccolo. The piece is perhaps one of the composer’s most popular works.
    The first movement is all about the ocean. The chromatic triplet passages describe waves crashing about the giant vessel. Count the long trilled notes very carefully so that the eighth-notes after the trills are exact, and placed precisely as eighths.

    The trill at letter K should be E to F natural, only a half-step. It is not correct in the parts published by Kalmus. Make this correction to your part.
    The second movement contains quite a few passages with the rhythm on beat one of a dotted eight-note, sixteenth-note and an eighth-note. This is followed by triplet eighth-notes on the second beat. Make sure the sixteenth-note is placed precisely. Often the sixteenth-note is played too late and the figure begins to sound like a quarter-note followed by two sixteenth-notes.
    The passage for two piccolos occurs just after the vivace scherzando. Before letter H, pace the crescendo carefully so that you will not become too loud too soon. One of my teachers told me that crescendo means “start softer.” I agree with this advice.
    Many of the passages in this movement are written in a tutti woodwind choir style with the piccolo as the top voice. I love to use varying syllables for the articulated passages.

I feel that TDT TKT is the best choice to keep the rhythmic propulsion during the passagework. It is not ever necessary to keep strict alternation of syllables if another pattern is more useful and comfortable for you. The goal of all double/triple tonguing patterns is to be completely facile and able to switch syllables in any order to suit the musical goal at hand.
The third movement has a delightful soli at letter G. The piccolo doubles the principal clarinet with this sweet melody. The accents within the passage keep the tune sounding innocent and light. The figure should have a little bit of a lilt or “swing” (accomplished thru articulation) to allow the charm to smile through.

The final movement is a thrilling conclusion to the work. Always bring out the printed dynamic indications for maximum melodic shaping. The crescendos are marked quite specifically throughout. Most of the writing is virtuosic and in a woodwind choir block. Exaggerate the crescendos at letter P and show a difference between mf, f and ff. The double tonguing passage at letter V can be challenging depending on the tempo as in some concerts it seems to go faster than others. Keep the air moving since this is what drives the tongue. Keep the tongue very relaxed and rely on the air.
The work ends with a reprise of the ocean wave theme heard in the first movement, although one senses that the ship is breaking apart on the rocks due to the more violent nature of the writing at this point.

Musicologist Paul Serotsky described this piece as “unrivalled in the quality of its scoring….the music is like a magic carpet; it can transport you to another world.” The vivid, colorful textures and gorgeous melodies, supported by plush harmonies, propel the story and engage our imaginations all along the way.

Piccolo Articulation
    The tongue is one of the strongest muscles in the body, yet mastering articulation is a rather difficult skill since we never get to see the actual muscle in action.
     Sometimes a player will try to move the whole tongue; this results in muddy or unclear articulation. Excessive movement of the whole muscle can be checked by looking in a mirror to see if there is lots of movement in the throat area when articulating. On piccolo, it is critical to move only the front of the tongue so that it interferes as little as possible with the air stream.
    It takes time and good practice discipline (using the ears to hear the difference in sound and attack, an awareness of the exact placement of the tongue in the mouth, and patience, to repeat successful attempts) to transfer the action of articulation to the tip of the tongue only. It is also important to use even less pressure on the roof of the mouth and to keep the motion of the tongue to a minimum on the piccolo to stay even lighter than you would on the flute. There is a tendency to hammer the tonguing and push the air out with the tongue at times. Too much tongue pressure results in that unpleasant sputtering of the lips, and a Bronx cheer or buzzing of the lips.
    One of my teachers, Patricia Garside, used to remind me that all articulation exercises are really tone studies. The tone should be focused, or you will not have a chance to achieve clean, clear articulation. Take care of tonal business first. Practice all articulated passages completely slurred to begin, and then move to patterns such as slurring in pairs, slur 2 tongue 2, tongue one slur 3 etc., until you are able to tongue the whole passage successfully.

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A Journey From Sax to Flute

theinstrumenta — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 22:53:47 +0000

    In reading Craig Robert’s account in the December Flute Talk about his return to flute playing (“Back in the Flute Loop”), I was struck by how different his goal was from mine, yet how similar the difficulties were we encountered. Roberts had something of a solid foundation playing the flute in his youth. I was a sax player of advanced years wanting to expand my playing opportunities by becoming a doubler on the flute.
    As a child growing up in Philadelphia in the 1940s, my romantic attachment was to the big bands that appeared regularly at the Earl Theater. Whether Benny Goodman, Kay Kaiser or a lesser name band was on the bill, I was there in awe of the sound and glamour. Eventually, I began clarinet and then saxophone lessons with one of the city’s premier teachers. Some modest success, in the form of winning first chair clarinet in my high school band, gave me the encouragement I needed to audition as a bandsman in the United States Marine Corps. I spent the next six years playing clarinet and saxophone in various Marine Corps post bands from Quantico, Virginia to San Francisco.
    When the GI education bill was reintroduced as a benefit, I, like Roberts, decided to pursue a different career and left the service. I continued to enjoy playing with local bands while in college but eventually the pursuit of a career in journalism and higher education left little time and small opportunity to continue playing. The clarinet and tenor sax went into the closet.
    In 1985 the chairman of the music department at our local university started a community band. I offered my services on saxophone (there were no auditions) and to avoid a humiliating embarrassment, I began woodshedding on the saxophone.
    I also hoped that if I became proficient again, I might rejoin the big band scene. During the time that I had been away from playing, the role of the saxophone player had been redefined. Saxophone players now were expected to play the flute as well as the clarinet. If I wanted a chance to play in some of the local bands on these newer arrangements, I would have to become serious about playing the flute. I was in my mid-50s when I began practicing again, and six years later purchased a beginner model flute from a niece who no longer played. I soon graduated to a better instrument and then realized that I needed a teacher to help me become proficient on the flute.
    My first teacher was the young wife of a university faculty member whom I knew from our community band connection. She was well-credentialed and skilled in her own right. However, she taught in a converted bedroom in her suburban home while her two young children were sometimes under foot. Her students were mostly beginners of junior high and high school age. While she knew me as a member of the band; she made no attempt to explore my reasons for taking flute lessons at my advanced age.
    Nevertheless, her attempts were noble. I wrote copious notes about the fundamentals of tone production, lip formation, air direction and speed. She introduced me to De La Sonorite by Marcel Moyse and the 17 Big Daily Exercises by Taffanel & Gaubert. In retrospect we both might have been better served by Mary Karen Clardy’s Flute Fundamentals or Trevor Wye’s Practice Books.
    The following year the flute professor at the local university graciously added me to his roster of students. He knew something of my background in music and understood why I was making the effort to learn to play the flute. Our first lessons were from Kalmus, Flute Studies, Volume 1. Over a period of five years I was introduced to the etudes by Andersen, Gariboldi, Koehler and Terschak from the Melodious and Progressive Studies (Edited by Robert Cavally). I also undertook on my own (prematurely, I might add) the Top Register Studies for Flute by Thomas J. Filas. Again in retrospect, I feel that while I progressed as a player during this period, there might have been too much collegiality in our teacher-student relationship especially with respect to tone production. Perhaps he may have thought that as a doubler, I did not need to achieve any lofty playing goals or maybe I would improve by the process of trying.
    In 2005 my wife and I moved to a Kansas City, Missouri suburb to be closer to the arts and entertainment scene and more playing opportunities. By this time I had acquired a Powell Conservatory model and was more than casually interested in developing as a flute player. Within a year I contacted my present flute teacher. She is a teacher and free-lance musician with several degrees and probably accepted me as a student because of her admiration for a mutual friend’s musicianship. It was certainly not out of admiration for my flute playing. Our early relationship, one in which I attempted to impress her with my playing of etudes I was already familiar with, was somewhat rocky and tense. She was not at all pleased with my tone quality, and for good reason. She assigned me Moyse’s Tone Development through Interpretation and the 24 Melodic Studies plus the Melodious Etudes for Flute, edited by Larry Clark and Sean O’Laughlin. Later she introduced me to Andre Maquarre’s Daily Exercises.
    Her greatest asset to me was that she was a careful listener. She must have gotten tired of constantly reminding me to “relax the throat, mouth, jaw and lips and move the air forward constantly and unimpeded.” If I stopped when playing a passage because the tone had deteriorated and then took another crack at it, she asked the obvious, “What did you do to make the sound better?” She encouraged me to listen to recordings of masters and contemporary artists. As she began to understand my goals in learning to play the flute, she allowed me a good deal of flexibility in what and how I prepared for a lesson. Trained in the old school, I regarded scales and arpeggios as key to successful development of sound and flexible technique. At the age of 82, I no longer take lessons regularly but still arrange for an occasional lesson because playing the flute is now a joy for me. Though I still play in a couple of big bands on occasion, I no longer seek the level of activity I once did.

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The Artistic Flute in the Early Baroque Period

theinstrumenta — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 21:13:15 +0000

    Players of the modern flute invest their time in strengthening their performance skills and expanding their repertoire. They may also read books and articles about the development of the flute to increase their overall understanding of the instrument’s modern construction. Flutists may further enhance their appreciation of the flute through artwork. Throughout the centuries, artists have often featured the flute in its varied and ever changing role in society.
    Two artworks that are probably the most recognizable to flutists are the engraving by Bernard Picart on the cover of Jacques Martin Hotteterre’s Principes de la flute traversiere (1707) and Adolph Menzel’s painting The Flute Concert of Sanssouci (1851), which depicts Frederick the Great playing the flute. In addition to these two works, there are many others that might be of interest to flutists. From images of the flute found in early cave paintings of 30,000 BCE to images found in contemporary works, much can be revealed about the development of the flute and how it is influenced by social structure and historic or political events of the time. The evolution of the flute, as observed in visual arts, helps us understand how and why it developed into the instrument that we play today.
    Since the most significant changes in the development of the flute began in the Baroque period, the flute depicted in artwork of this period is of great historical importance and interest. It is also interesting to note the independence of the flute and recorder during this period. The instruments have distinct characteristics and are used to perform different types of music for different occasions.
    The Baroque style in art began in Rome with a revolutionary young artist named Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio (1571-1610). One of his music paintings is titled The Lute Player (1596).

This painting depicts a musician playing the lute; on the table are music books and a violin. Another variation of this painting by Caravaggio includes a miniature spinet and a flared-bell recorder. In his short life span, Caravaggio revolutionized the concept of painting from technique to subject matter. What Caravaggio creates is a moment in time in which the viewer is allowed to participate and listen to the music being played. The darkened background keeps the viewer’s eyes on the foreground and the action that is occurring. No longer is a background needed to create the illusion of space as was typical of the Renaissance – the emphasis is now on the foreground. The diagonal line of the lute and cast shadows keep the eye moving around the foreground plane. The mouth of the lute player is open – suggesting the action of singing. This is an active painting. Many followers of Caravaggio traveled to Holland and settled in the Utrecht region. From there, Caravaggio’s style was picked up by the Dutch artists.
Dutch artists incorporated flutes into their artwork for many reasons. During the early 17th century, Holland became one of the largest and wealthiest provinces in the Netherlands. After Spain recognized Holland’s independence in 1609, Dutch artists began to express their patriotic spirit in paintings with subjects that emphasized cheerful events. Music was frequently depicted as an activity of continuous enjoyment and leisure, and images of flutes appeared in many of the artists’ works. These works usually show the flute being held or played by middle-class boys dressed in ordinary garments. Music is not seen as an elite activity but rather as an activity for all to enjoy. The flute soloist or chamber ensemble with flute is depicted as a form of personal entertainment. The scenery is simple and a mood of happiness and optimism is created. Flutes in these paintings represent a desire to enjoy the simple things in life.
Examples of two Dutch artists who reflect the influence of Caravaggio’s style and include the flute in everyday scenes are Hendrick Terbrugghen (1588-1629) and Judith Leyster (1609-1660). Terbrugghen’s two related paintings, Boy Playing a Recorder (1621) and Boy Playing a Fife (1621), show middle class boys playing flute-related instruments. Following the style of Caravaggio, Terbrugghen shows half-length figures highlighted against a plain background, but each represents a different purpose for the flute. The boy with the fife is in a striped soldier’s costume and represents the urban and the military. The boy playing the recorder is in a shepherd’s dress and represents the rural and pastoral nature of the flute.

Another one of Terbrugghen’s paintings, The Concert (1626), shows a group of three ordinary youths practicing their music by candlelight. Terbrugghen’s connection with Caravaggio is observed through his setting of these candlelit half-length figures against a lighter background. They are crowded together close to the edge of the canvas so that attention is immediately drawn to them. The instrumentalist is performing on a transverse flute – in contrast to the recorder and the fife seen in his earlier paintings.

Judith Leyster was influenced by the work of Terbrugghen. Her popular painting of Boy Playing a Flute (c. 1630) shows a young middle-class boy playing a transverse flute. On the wall behind him hang a violin and a recorder. The early 17th century was a period in which various types of flutes and recorders are depicted in paintings before the development of the one-keyed Baroque transverse flute around 1660 by Hotteterre.

In addition to the role of the flute as a symbol of happiness and leisure, the flute was included in many still-life works. Seventeenth century Dutch artists were famous for their lifelike paintings of still life. Before 1650, more common objects of glass, pewter and earthenware were depicted as opposed to the more wealthy silver, gold, and porcelains seen in later works. The Dutch painters often introduced symbolic and allegorical meaning into their compositions, perhaps wishing to elevate the moral value of their work and appeal to a more affluent and educated patronage.
In many of these works, the flute conveys various meanings. An example of a still-life work is Still Life with Musical Instruments (1623) by Pieter Claesz (1597-1660), which depicts a table with a partly sliced loaf of bread, a tortoise, a glass, watch, books, paper, lute, cello, recorder and other musical instruments.

The vanitas is a genre of still-life painting also popularized by the Dutch. Oftentimes depicting a flute, these paintings use common objects to represent the transience and beauty of life. Evert Collier (1640-1708) in his vanitas painting Still Life with a Volume of Wither’s ‘Emblemes’ (1696) depicts a draped table with various objects. The skull and hour glass represent the inevitability of death while the musical instruments, sheet music, fruit, silver goblets, and jewelry represent the pleasures of life. The book is opened to a poem based on mortality. The Latin scripture seen in the left corner reads: “Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas,” which translates as Vanity of vanities, all is vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:2). All these items reflect the uncertainty and shortness of life. The flute, along with other common objects, reminds the viewer that death is certain, and earthly pleasures are fleeting.

Tronies were paintings by Dutch artists usually based on living models. They were not portraits but were intended to be studies of expression and character. They were sold in the open market, so the artist was free to choose his subject and style of dress. Oftentimes, the subject would be holding a musical instrument such as a flute or recorder. Exotic looking garments were frequently used so that the artist could show off his technique. Formal portraits were quite different, preserving the likeness of the individual for posterity and creating an image of pride and social position. A tronie attributed to Jan Vermeer (1632-1675) is Girl Holding a Flute (c. 1665).

Vermeer shows a young girl dressed in elaborate clothing holding a recorder. Before the 1650s, the middle class was depicted in ordinary garments, but after the 1650s, the middle class was dressed more elaborately showing the wealth and commerce that arrived in Holland after 1650. Not much is known of Vermeer and his subjects, but he depicted this middle-class Dutch woman and her personal items in great detail – with her exotic Chinese hat and drop-pearl earrings set against a tapestry background. Vermeer continued using the spotlight technique of Caravaggio and the use of diagonals to reach out to the spectator.
In addition to the paintings and artists already mentioned, there are many other Dutch Baroque artists who use the flute in their works. These works are also worth exploring. Such artists (with approximate dates) include Frans Hals (1580-1666), Dirck Hals (1591-1656), Jan van Bijlert (1598-1671), Jan Miense Molenar (1610-1668), Benjamin Gerritsz Cuyp (1612-1652), Govert Flink (1615-1660), Abraham van Beyeren (1620-1690), and Gerard de Lairesse (1640-1711).
The flute has developed technically but also symbolically throughout the centuries. It has been associated with rituals of death from tomb decorations to vanitas and tronie paintings. It has been part of celebrations and festivals. It has been a social equalizer and status symbol. During the 17th century, it helped characterize a country’s independence and advances in economic wealth. The imagery of the flute has played an important role in the development of society and social classes.

References
Caravaggio (Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio). Lute Player. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum. Photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets
Hendrick ter Brugghen. Knave Playing a Recorder. Gemaeldegalerie Alte Meister, Kassel, Germany/©Museumlandschaft Hessen Kassel/Ute Brenzel/The Bridgeman Art Library
Hendrick ter Brugghen. Knave Playing a Fife. Gemaeldegalerie Alte Meister, Kassel, Germany/©Museumlandschaft Hessen Kassel/
Ute Brenzel/The Bridgeman Art Library
Hendrick ter Brugghen. The Concert. Bought with contributions from the National Heritage Memorial Fund, The Art Fund and The Pilgrim Trust, 1983 © The National Gallery, London
Judith Leyster. Boy Playing the Flute. Photo © Nationalmuseum, Stockholm
Pieter Claesz. Still Life with Musical Instruments. Louvre, Paris, France/
Giraudon/The Bridgeman Art Library
Edward Collier. Still Life with a Volume of Wither’s ‘Emblemes’. © Tate, London, 2012
Jan Vermeer. Girl Holding a Flute. Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington

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The Daily Flute Workout

theinstrumenta — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 20:41:41 +0000

    For teachers of elementary through advanced high school flutists, it is often a challenge to help students organize their practice time. Students are busier than ever before, and some parents sign students up for music lessons thinking the commitment will be limited to the one lesson per week. They are unprepared for the practice commitment. This fall, I spent time rethinking the practice sheet I give to my students each week. I had the advantage of parental perspective as my children are now 8 and 11 years old, and we are on the cusp of these busy years. I already see how difficult it is to fit in all the activities. My son participates in karate, school band, piano and horn lessons, and our church’s religious education program. It is not a huge amount of activities when compared to those of some of his classmates, but enough, I assure you. My son’s private teachers, understandably, expect him to practice 5 or 6 times a week, and I have to confess that it does not always happen.
    It was with this in mind that I developed the “My Daily Flute Workout,” a new and improved practice guide template, that my students and I prepare together at the end of each lesson. I wanted to make it absolutely clear to students and parents that I expect several practice sessions per week from them. I also wanted them to understand what these sessions entail and why they are important. Most of my students are involved in some type of sport or activity, so calling the practice sheet a workout resonates with them. It helps beginning students to understand that my expectations of their work input for flute lessons are the same as the those of their swimming coach. They would not dream of telling a swimming coach they can only practice once a week and they cannot expect to improve on flute with that work ethic either.
    The word workout is also a useful reminder to the older students when they begin to complain of workload or practicing scales every week. Getting better on an instrument is work, but it can be fun work if both the student and the teacher participate in developing the guidelines and expectations each week. That’s why we call it playing the flute.
    The template is a simple one, and I find that students are more willing to use it than my old sheet which was boringly titled Lesson Notes. The new sheet guides students to begin a practice session by thinking about posture. I encourage students to do this in front of a full length mirror to check stance, elbow placement, finger placement and movement. If there are bad habits we are trying to correct, I make practice suggestions next to the category Posture Alerts. The following pdf is the new workout sheet.

The Warm-up
A warm-up should be just that, a time to warm up the flute, to warm up the body with deep breathing, and to warm up the fingers slowly. It is not a time to become microscopically critical about tone. (That comes later under Tone.) I have beginners warm up with headjoint exercises, many of which I have developed myself. Recently, I have begun using the Flute 101: Mastering the Basics series by Louke & George. The first book, Flute 101, includes two pages of headjoint exercises and smaller block insets throughout the book that are useful for warm-ups and may spark your imagination to create more. (Or ask the student to create their own.) For intermediate students, I add harmonics, octave leaps, and short finger exercise “bursts.” Students who are ready to incorporate vibrato use the exercises in Flute 102 or those in Christine Potter’s Vibrato Workbook. Vibrato is an excellent way to open up the tone, relax the throat, and tune in the ears.

The Etude
I know many teachers prefer to have students get their fingers moving before etudes by playing scales. I have found that students are more likely to practice if scales are not too close to the beginning of their session. Who wakes up in the morning and wants to play scales? (Ok, I do, but it takes years to create OCSD – Obsessive Compulsive Scale Disorder). My students tend to find etudes more fun than scales, so I put this block before scales on the sheet to lure them further into practice mode before I hit them with scales. Yes, I did use the words fun and etude in the same sentence. Be sure to take the student’s playing level, dedication, playing goals, and time availability for the week into consideration when choosing an etude or two. I find that students sometimes feel a greater sense of accomplishment when they complete two or three short etudes than one, long repetitive one. There are many wonderful etude books out there, and the Petrucci Music Library, , also has free downloads of etudes in the public domain. Make sure the etude is a bit of a challenge, but not so difficult that students, especially younger students, become discouraged and give on up on practicing.

Scale Responsibilities
I word it that way for a reason. Often, teachers introduce a new scale each week or two at the lesson, and students are not completely clear on which scales they are responsible for practicing. The key to getting students to practice scales is variety. Emphasize straight scales, but also scales in thirds, arpeggios, and arpeggiated 7th chords, too. Encourage students to practice scales and arpeggios in a variety of articulations, dynamics, and rhythmic patterns. This is also a great time to use the mirror to check posture and finger position again.

Tone Check-in
At this point in the workout sheet the student is warmed up, and focused on practicing. This is a good time to focus on tone. My students use Trevor Wye’s classic Practice Book for Flute, Vol. 1 (Novello). I then promote them to Marcel Moyse’s De La Sonorite. This is where we get picky about tone. An unfocused or unprojected tone is considered a wrong note here. I tell students that on days when tone is good, they should go to the mirror and see what they are doing right with their lips. (Keep in mind that it might also be something they are doing with air.) Whether they play it beautifully or badly, they should notice what their lips are doing. They should write this information down or have someone photograph them with a phone. I tell students to not persist too long on a bad day. This only leads to tension and a worse sound. As Marcel Moyse said, “Put your flute in its bed, and go to bed yourself.”

Repertoire
I work together with students to determine appropriate repertoire. Considerations include upcoming performances, recordings, concerts, and competitions. Sometimes a student needs a technical or musical challenge or alternatively might be working through performance anxiety, in which case an easier piece might be better. For younger students, it is often a good idea to assign pieces in the key of the scales and etudes they are studying that week. For longer pieces, we develop a practice plan and outline where they should be by certain dates. Be sure students play repertoire from all periods and styles.
Students may not know how to practice repertoire. Teach them to identify and isolate problems. Practice with younger students in the lesson to teach them practice techniques they can use later. The goal is to create an independent, critically-thinking musician.

Band Repertoire
The local band directors really appreciate this block. I emphasize to students that whether they are first chair or tenth, they are part of a team (note the sports metaphor again) and should know their part perfectly. It is not necessary to practice all the music in the folder. I help them identify trouble spots if needed, and they can bring their band folder in if they need help on a section. I do request that they ask for this help at the beginning of the lesson.

Other Repertoire
This block is simply a useful organizing tool for students who are working on multiple pieces for various performances and competitions. We plan to have a piece ready to go several weeks before the actual event, and then it is moved to this block to marinate. If a student is in a small ensemble, this is a good point in the workout to practice challenging spots for that music.

Research, Theory, and Listening
Having taught courses in music literature and theory, I am passionate about the use of these tools for performing musicians. Students should understand the historical influences on a piece, the life of the composer, and the structure and style of the work. I rarely assign all three of these academic blocks in a lesson, unless the student is an aspiring music major.
A research assignment might include writing a paragraph or five bullet points about an era or composer, or about the circumstances surrounding the composition of a particular piece. A student struggling with performance anxiety may be asked to read and summarize a chapter in Eloise Ristad’s A Soprano on Her Head. Sometimes I ask students who have participated in summer study to write about their experience, so I can share it with the studio.

Music Theory Block
In the Music Theory block I may ask a younger student to drill fundamental techniques on a free music theory site, such as www.musictheory.net or www.emusictheory.com. (The rhythm drills on these sites are also helpful for older students who struggle with rhythm.) An older student studying a Baroque piece might do a Roman numeral analysis of a short section of a piece. It is amazing how quickly they pick this up. Sometimes students analyze the form of a piece or mark the main theme in a Rondo each time it returns. Students working on memorization may be challenged to create a memory map of the piece.

The Listening Block
    It is easier than ever for students to listen to music at home. iTunes, Pandora, and YouTube make it simple for students to view and listen to performances. Be careful as the quality of video performances varies greatly. I ask my students to show me the video they listened to, and we often evaluate the performance together. This year, I have encouraged parents of my students to subscribe to Naxos Music Library (). A one-year subscription is relatively inexpensive, and the quality of performances and recordings is good. (This is a different and much less expensive site than www.naxosmusiclibrary.com, which is used by many conservatories and universities.) Of course, I also encourage students to attend live concerts.
    At the end of each lesson, the student and I decide together how many times to complete the daily workout before the next lesson. We take into consideration sports practices and games, tests, and special events. I tell students that five to six practice sessions per week is ideal and then ask how many sessions they feel comfortable completing. This way, the student and I both have a reasonable expectation for their preparedness level at the next lesson. We sometimes negotiate. If a student says that maybe three sessions are possible, I smile and suggest four. They always smile back and agree. Students keep the Daily Flute Workout sheets in a 3-ring binder, along with other handouts. I do not assign a specific amount of time to be spent on each item in the workout, or in each practice session, unless I feel a student needs extra help organizing practice sessions.
    Since the implementation of the Daily Flute Workout in my studio, I have noticed an increase in the amount students practice, and in the intelligent way in which they approach this practice. They feel more responsible for their practice and progress, and as a teacher, it is much more fun to teach an engaged student.

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In About An Hour

theinstrumenta — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 20:27:39 +0000

    In the mid-1990s, I invited Michel Debost to be the guest artist at my Pocatello Flute Week. While I had not met him personally, I was a fan of his column in Flute Talk and wanted to share his wealth of information and knowledge with my students. When Debost accepted the invitation, he suggested we play a duo recital on the opening night of the festival. One of the pieces he wanted to perform was the Faure Fantasie, Op. 79 in the two flutes and piano version. I had not realized that there was a duet version of the Faure, but a few days later a second flute part appeared in the mail. The second part had been written by Louis Moyse and had not been published at the time.
    As one who has a tendency to over-prepare for concerts, I immediately began to learn the second flute part. Since the first part was identical to the flute part in the original flute and piano version, I decided to play the second part with several students who already knew the work. This produced good results but only showed me how the two parts lined up compositionally. I wanted my second flute part to complement Debost’s interpretation so I decided to practice my part by playing along with his CD. This practice technique proved to be an excellent idea because at our first rehearsal, we played as if we had already performed many concerts together. I knew how he would shape phrases, use coloring techniques, and take time.
    When I was a young student at Eastman, American flutists learned only a few of the French Conservatoire concours selections. I am not sure why this was the case, but mostly we learned the Chaminade Concertino, Enesco Cantabile et Presto, and Faure Fantasie. During a practice session with Debost’s CD, I happened to look over the other repertoire on the CD and noted he had recorded many of the prominent French concours solos. By this time in my practice, I was in awe of Debost’s performance of the Faure both technically and artistically so I spent some time listening to his performances of these other works. I decided to learn all these compositions, and my goal was to get to the point where I could play with the entire CD imitating his mannerisms and nuances.
    This project was one of the best I have done as a flutist. First I listened with the full score and then made a plan for learning these new works. A few weeks later I was ready for my first run-through with Debost’s CD. It went better than I expected. When I started this project I only wanted to learn this French repertoire, but as I continued to play these pieces day after day, all in a row with the CD, I realized I was not only learning the music but was also getting an insight into the French style of flute playing – and, I was learning it from a master.
    As the weeks progressed, I became passionate about this music, and the French approach to performing it. I quickly realized that once the music was learned, I could play all the selections in slightly over an hour. Some days I played with the CD; other times I played alone or with a metronome. This period of time proved to be one of intense growth both musically and flute-wise.
    Many purists would argue that I was copying Debost’s interpretations, and I will be the first to admit that I was. However, Bach learned to compose by hand-copying works by Vivaldi, and Beethoven broke into his brother’s music cabinet to look at scores to broaden his compositional horizons. Before you can become original, you have to understand what has come before and how to imitate it.
    I was not alone in my imitation. When I was a student of Julius Baker, he told me of his admiration for the playing of Joseph Mariano. He commented that when he bought Mariano’s recording of the Griffes Poem the first thing he did was copy it onto a reel-to-reel tape recorder. Then rather playing the recording in the traditional manner he hand-fed the tape through the machine listening to Mariano’s performance note-by-note, observing where he changed colors, what notes he grouped together, and how many vibrato cycles he put on each note in an effort to get inside of Mariano’s creative mind. My project was similar to Baker’s only I used a CD recording rather than a 33rpm and tape recorder.
    While most performers will not admit to playing along with a CD, I think most have done it sometime during their studies. One day while I was waiting for my son to have his horn lesson, I noted that his teacher had CDs strewn across the dining room table. On closer look I realized that they all were chamber music works with a horn part. I asked what he was doing, and he said, “I play along with the CDs. This way I get to perform with a much higher caliber musician than I usually do.”
    Later that summer after the flute week and Debost’s visit, I thought about other one-hour projects that I might undertake in the future. I remembered Mariano saying once that he could play the Berbiguier 18 Exercises and several of the Andersen etude books each in a little less than an hour. I decided to give it a try and realized that I could do this too. While Mariano never mentioned to me how busy he was and how little personal practice time he had, I know from my own experience that professional flutists and teachers have very little personal time. Figuring out how to make the most out of that small time is the key to success. While maintenance practice is necessary, figuring out a practice strategy where you also grow musically is an important objective.
    My next project was the Bach Six Sonatas (b, Eb, A, C, e, E). I had heard Jean-Pierre Rampal play a concert on the radio from Stanford in which he played all the sonatas on one concert. I decided I wanted to be able to do that too whether I actually gave the concert or not. Rampal played in large cities and for sophisticated audiences on college campuses, so his listeners were ready and eager for a concert of all Bach. In Idaho where I lived at the time, I knew this would be a poor programming choice. Still I liked the idea of preparing all these works. At one time or another, I had already performed each Bach Sonata on a separate program, so now my challenge was to develop the endurance and concentration to play them all in a row. This project takes approximately 70 minutes start to finish.
    Through the years I have continued on my journey to find groupings of compositions to play daily in about an hour. The Twelve Fantasias by George Philip Telemann come in just under an hour as do the 30 Caprices by Karg-Elert and the two Mozart Concertos. I cannot exactly articulate what happens in your playing and musicianship when you play these works repeatedly for a period of time and with a CD. I think the benefit is derived by developing the concentration to perform accurately for a period of time plus learning to imitate another’s voice. After a while I abandoned the CDs and played alone and began to find my own way. All and all it was an immensely rewarding process.
    As a university professor, I adapted this project for each flutist’s senior recital preparation. First we selected a program based on graduation requirements of the university. Then I helped students plan an overall preparation strategy. At the point when the music was learned and could be played in the correct tempo, I asked which recordings were listened to over the course of learning the music. With my help we selected the strongest recorded interpretations and made a play list for an ipod or computer.
    Generally each composition on the program was selected from a different artist. One artist might specialize in Baroque performance practice, while another could be a Romantic music specialist. Once the listening tracks were compiled, each flutist was to play the recital once a day with the recorded media. This was usually done for about a month before the recital.
    Each year I usually had between three and five graduation recitals spread throughout the spring semester. While some students were skeptical of this process of daily playing with a pre-recorded CD, the first person who gave a recital always endorsed the benefits of this practice technique and sold the idea to the others.
    The process works because students began to look at the program as a whole, not just as one piece after another. They soon discovered it was necessary to switch styles and character from one composition to the next. One of the best benefits was that they practiced concentrating for about an hour over thirty times before walking on stage for the recital. Since most seniors are still in a development stage for phrasing and pacing, playing with some of the best flutists in the world placed the bar higher than if they had played alone for this period of time. I also think each student’s control of intonation improved because while playing with the flutists on the CD, they also played with the pianist and learned to tune from the bass notes up.
    For younger students who do not have an hour’s worth of repertoire, select one recital selection and have them play it once through with a recording for thirty days. This practice technique will certainly take them to the next performance level both musically and technically. While recorded accompaniment programs are good, I think playing along with another flutist offers many additional benefits.

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A Breath of Fresh Air for Spring

theinstrumenta — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 20:19:01 +0000

    Why make it simple when you can make it complicated? We are all drawn to finding complicated solutions to our flute playing problems. Most flute teachers and authors have a personal set of concerns, and it is difficult to resist the magic of one’s own opinions. I speak from personal experience. We are the apostles of our own certitudes such as the method will be the cure-all; this technique will fix your problems; or that change of embouchure position will bestow upon you the magical sound of one of our dead idols, who obviously cannot challenge our axioms or disagree.
    Once again: Why make it simple when you can make it complicated? Simple solutions do not occur by wishing them or with a finger flick on a computer. The most natural approach to conventional problems makes common sense. This is certainly true in the case with our constant obsession with air.
    The most natural way to breathe is comparable to what we do when we are not aware of it, such as when we read a bulletin board or a newspaper while waiting for the bus. We don’t raise our shoulders, jut out the chin, or raise the elbows. We just take a normal breath with a simple natural posture. When Jean-Pierre Rampal was asked if he had a breathing secret in an 1981 interview in Flute Talk, he said, “No. I just open my mouth. Do you have a breathing secret when you speak? No. You open your mouth, you breathe. When you’re talking, you just naturally breathe between phrases when you need a breath. In music, it’s the same.”
    You do not need a special posture for flute breathing. Raising the shoulders contributes to constriction in the throat and in some instances so much so, that the spoken voice is affected. A jutted chin (which also affects pitch control) can lead to a tight embou-chure and painful jaw muscles. High elbows force flutists to break the wrists unnecessarily, especially the left one.
    Likewise, the posture for breathing and playing the flute while sitting can be compared to the posture we have when reading a book in a chair. The lower part of the back rests slightly against the chair’s back, and the shoulders and elbows are relaxed. No slouching, of course. I insist on this relaxed attitude for inhaling because it is the pre-requisite for supported blowing. When we breathe naturally, the air does not go in the upper part of our chest, which everyone knows is not the optimal prelude to playing.
    There is a very simple way to test if the air is well directed on intake. Try breathing with clenched teeth. This produces a hissing sound, a poor and high-placed intake, and cold teeth. Not good.
    Now, breathe with a half-opened mouth. This produces a slurping sound that is so often heard, a better but still incomplete intake, and the mouth is cool. Better, but still imperfect.
    Finally, open your throat and feel the cooler air deep in your throat. The air intake goes down and is ready to support, and the upper chest remains uninvolved. It gives us a conscious feeling of the air reaching deep into the abdomen, a source of pleasure and of the sound’s energy.
    An open-throated breath produces the HHAAH sound, which is the sign of the best air intake. Now the abdominal muscles drop. You might have the impression that the abdominal muscles pump the air in, but they do not. Rather, the abdominal muscles create a bellows effect. When the abdominal muscles (belt) stay flat, as in chest breathing, the air has very little room to go anywhere. When the waist drops during a low (abdominal) breath, a kind of void occurs below the diaphragm. If the throat is open (as in the HHAAH sound above), a bellows effect occurs that draws air in, due to the simple action of atmospheric pressure, not by a pumping action of tummy muscles.
    A simple and logical way to feel this low air intake is to observe what we do when we yawn. Yawning is the best and most pleasant way to feel and observe the process of breathing. When we dread a stressful event, a yawn is an easy way to relieve tension. We cannot yawn with high shoulders. In yawning, the shoulders drop automatically, liberating the neck area. Our ears pop, as in a descending airplane, indicating that the air pressure is reaching balance on both sides of the ear drum, and that all the air inside our resonators (throat, sinuses, even lungs) is acoustically in contact with tone production.
    We cannot yawn through the nose (except, of course, when we make a polite effort to hide our boredom). Instead the mouth and throat are wide open. When the shoulders drop, the abdominal muscles also relax automatically, creating the bellows effect, an impression of fulfillment and an imminent readiness to blow and play, which are, after all, the actual purpose of breathing, regardless of the countless theories that prevail about such a natural act.
    Breathing is the essence of life itself, not some hypothetical (and complicated) physiological theory. For some reason, we tend to use slurp breaths and their ugly noise during the course of phrasing or when there is little time to breathe. However, the HHAAH sound, dropping the belt for breath, is the fastest, most silent, and most efficient. Once good breathing has been mastered, breaths need not be huge (unless a long phrase demands it) and actual playing, air management, and control of the airflow follow naturally.
    I can hear the objections from some of you. If we support the air from the belt and do not control its release, the lungs deflate quickly like a child’s balloon. The secret solution to this is what singers call appoggio, meaning the act of leaning or pushing. In the appoggio, the abdominal muscles support the blowing action while we refuse to allow the ribcage to collapse, as if the ribs were still pushing outward.
    At first controlling the release of air seems complex, but it is well worth the effort to understand it. This technique will improve your intonation and dynamic control by stabilizing the airflow. It is important to develop a way to control airflow, instead of blindly blowing all the air at once, coming up short, and then worrying about running out.
    It takes more knowledge, thought, and effort to play softly in the second and third ranges than to blast the sound at all times. The Big Sound, so beloved by many contemporary flutists and flute makers, is nothing more than an easy and noisy paraphrase of what a flute sound should be: human, ethereal, tender, sometimes recalcitrant and aggressive, but always sensual and poetic.
    The method of supporting and withholding the air (appoggio) is essential for good playing. Once you have mastered it, as opposed to letting the air all out at once, your inhalations will be more efficient as well. This is especially true when playing in soft dynamics. The important matter is mostly in the blowing, even more than in the breathing.
    (Note: The words belt or abdominal, and their equivalents, do not refer to the diaphragm, which moves up and down out of the player’s control, but to the area below the navel, perceived as the sneeze point or cough point.)

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A Conversation with John McMurtery

theinstrumenta — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 20:09:36 +0000

In John McMurtery’s varied career, he has performed across the United States with several orchestras and chamber ensembles. He is currently professor of flute at Western Illinois University and section flutist with the New York City Opera Orchestra. He has regularly performed with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and New Jersey Symphony and served as acting piccoloist with the Oregon Symphony. He shares his views on music education, teaching flute, and contemporary music.

How did you begin your musical studies?
I started playing the flute at the age of 11. After hearing a flute up close for the first time, I begged my parents for months to buy me one. Finally I got one and spent a whole week just trying to get a sound. Once I did, I was hooked and went to the library to check out every classical record I could get my hands on, from Bach to Steve Reich. Music became my life. I started composing little pieces to play in church. In the beginning I wanted to be a composer, so I immersed myself in music theory and history. Orchestral music particularly thrilled me. I listened to recordings and radio broadcasts every day, often after bedtime when my parents thought I was sleeping. One day I showed up to band class and played a solo for my band director, who said, “Nice vibrato.” I had no idea what vibrato was. I was just trying to imitate what I heard on the recordings.

Did you enter a lot of competitions?
When I was a young student, I did, but later I focused more on concert performances and chamber music. The value of entering competitions is not necessarily the result, but the effort one exerts to learn the repertoire. The process of learning is the most important thing, and the opportunity to perform under pressure makes us stronger players.

You attended a small state school, a large state university, and a conservatory. Which gave you the best experiences?
I am fortunate in that I got my degrees from three completely different types of schools. I attended Central Washington University, Rutgers University, and The Juilliard School for my undergraduate, master’s and doctorate degrees. There were positive aspects of all of them. Not every environment will be a good fit for all students, but with the right attitude students can learn at almost any type of school. The first goal should be to get the best education you can for the money. State schools are often cheaper than private schools, especially with in-state tuition. Because the cost of college is so high, students do not have the luxury anymore of taking a few years to choose a major. Taking on significant student debt is becoming more and more dangerous these days as the job market tightens and there is no guarantee of employment after graduation.

What motivated you to stay in school and attend Juilliard for your doctoral degree?
I decided to pursue my DMA because I love the academic life and knew I wanted to be considered for a university teaching position sometime in the future. Some people go for advanced degrees because they don’t have a job or know what else to do. This is a mistake, mainly because of the cost of education. I had clear reasons to be there and was fortunate in that I got to study with Jeanne Baxtresser, Robert Langevin, and Julius Baker within the span of two years. Each of them had something very special to offer continue to influence my teaching and playing.
While at Juilliard I shared an apartment with my friend David Buck, who is now the principal flutist of the Detroit Symphony. David always impressed me with his work ethic and dedication to his goals. He never allowed his musical attention to wander. He didn’t take much outside work, or teach a lot of students. Instead, he devoted himself almost entirely to orchestral excerpts and taking auditions. My path was different. While I was working on my doctoral degree I was commuting 20 hours a week to three teaching jobs (4 days a week), playing gigs on nights and weekends, and had a few odd jobs on the side to pay the bills. The word no was not a part of my vocabulary at that stage of my life. I took on every project I could, just for the love of it. Over the years I have had to learn to moderate my schedule a bit.

What were lessons with Julius Baker like?
I had the very good fortune to be Baker’s last Juilliard student. Lessons were Monday mornings at 8 am, when the studios were cold and the pianos were sharp. I remember having to push my headjoint all the way in, just to play up to pitch. Sometimes I would take the train from Grand Central Station to Mr. Baker’s home in Brewster. His wife Ruth would pick me up, drive me to their house, and prepare lunch while we worked. Though he rarely demonstrated passages in lessons by then, he still practiced every day. He was always exacting and encouraging. After the lesson was over, we would eat together, and then I’d help him hook up his reel-to-reel tape player so we could listen to old New York Philharmonic concert broadcasts. I felt very privileged to sit there as he told stories about the musicians and the music we were listening to. It was a valuable part of my education.

What was your doctoral document topic?
    The title is Serial Music and The Lonely Flute: A Survey of Selected Works by Charles Wuorinen, Milton Babbitt, and James Romig. I examined five solo flute works I had been performing for several years, which shared certain stylistic tendencies. My interest in these composers began while I was at Rutgers. James (Jake) Romig, who was finishing his Ph.D. there, approached me one day to perform one of his chamber works. While we worked together we became good friends, and I became the flutist in his new music ensemble, The Society for Chromatic Art. We performed much of the major 20th-century solo literature as well as many wonderful new works in our concerts in New York City.
    By the time I arrived at Juilliard, I had been immersed in the world of contemporary music for quite some time. It seemed natural to write about the pieces I had already been performing so often. Because all three composers were alive at that time (Milton Babbitt has since passed away), I was able to ask them questions about their music. Many people think music written in a twelve-tone or serial idiom is unappealing to performers and audiences. They hear things once and don’t immediately understand it, so they assume it is not for them which is a shame. Any worthwhile music rewards repeated hearings. I wanted to better understand the musical language and structure of these challenging works to improve my performance of them. My hope is that more people would come to love this music. Now that I have lived with these works for many years, they are just as familiar to me as the Mozart concerti.
    One interesting event that resulted from the project is that I now teach at Western Illinois University with Jake Romig, one of the composers I focused on in my document. His wife Ashlee Mack is a terrific pianist, and we perform together as often as we can. It is much easier now that we live in the same town and have the luxury of as much rehearsal time as we want. In the past we had to put together complex music very quickly because of our demanding travel schedules.
    My interest in contemporary music also led to a performance of Brian Ferneyhough’s Carceri d’Invenzione for the Lincoln Center Festival in 2005. Carceri is probably the most difficult work I have ever performed, and it took me six months to learn. Now that one of my performances of this piece is on my website, I receive scores from composers all over the world, asking if I would perform their difficult flute works. It’s a nice problem to have, and has led to some wonderful friendships.

How did you begin your professional life after Juilliard?
    For a while I applied for college teaching jobs, took auditions, taught, and freelanced. A one-year teaching position suddenly opened at the University of Nevada-Las Vegas, and I was appointed. That year I took an audition for the New York City Opera and won, so I moved back to New York the following summer. When I joined the NYCO, we had a 29-week annual contract, leaving time to freelance during the off-season. Because I had recently won a job, contractors knew who I was and started calling me. This was fortunate, because City Opera was dark for a whole season during renovation on the theater at Lincoln Center.
    In 2009, during the dark year, the Metropolitan Opera called me to play principal flute for a couple rehearsals of Adriana Lecouvreur. I thought it would just be some temporary relief work, but on opening night, the flutist who was supposed to play it called in sick. That afternoon I had two rehearsals with the New Jersey Symphony, and called the Met personnel manager back during the break to say I could play the concert. I thought I would have enough time to get back to New York from New Jersey. The train was 45 minutes late, and I almost missed my first performance with the Met Orchestra. Being a freelancer means lots of tight schedules, literally running from one gig to the next. There is a photo of me playing a matinee at the Met with a long tie and a tux jacket because I didn’t have time to change into a proper suit jacket from a gig earlier in the day.
    I have been so fortunate to work with wonderful colleagues at City Opera: Bart Feller (principal flutist and my former teacher) and Janet Arms. In 2011, it became clear that the company would be taking a 90 percent reduction in salary, as well as moving out of Lincoln Center. This was a huge blow that effectively meant the end of the company as we knew it. I worried about being able to make it again as a freelance flutist. Fortunately, the Oregon Symphony called that fall and invited me to join the orchestra as acting piccolo on a one-year contract. The job search continued while I was in Portland, with the result that I was hired as professor at Western Illinois University.

What advice would you have for young flutists looking to major in music?
    As a professor, I look for students who are motivated, have natural musical intelligence, and who are above all open to being taught. If a student comes to me for a pre-audition lesson, I supply a few items to focus on, and then at the audition I listen for evidence of progress toward those goals. A natural energy and enthusiasm is crucial. Music is not just a job, nor a profession, but a lifestyle. Musicians don’t work from 9 to 5 and then just turn it off when they go home. I am always thinking about what I should do to prepare for my next gig, which means eating well, getting enough exercise, and of course staying in shape on the flute. When I teach, I am always thinking of ways to help my students improve.
    A positive attitude and an ability to collaborate effectively with others are essential to success in today’s music world. Remember to be kind to your colleagues – the people you work with in school will often be your colleagues for life. Also, it is important not to compare yourself to your peers too much. Everyone progresses at different rates. Think of peers as collaborators instead of competitors and learn from them as much as you can. Find qualities in their playing you appreciate, while still appreciating your own gifts. Be a good student, but don’t assume that just doing your schoolwork and practicing for lessons is enough. You should go hear great players as often as you can, and learn from them. Live a musical life.
    Choosing the right major is very important. Even for students who pursue performance careers, I recommend a second degree in music education or music business. Many young players dream of playing in an orchestra for a living, but the reality is that most orchestras fight for their very existence every two or three years when contracts are renegotiated. If you are fortunate enough to win an orchestral audition, there is no guarantee you will still have a job in five years. One of the reasons I am happy teaching at WIU is that I have students of various majors, including music education, music therapy, and music business in addition to performance.
    Maintaining a healthy sense of perspective is also critical. It is important to remember that you are still the same person whether you win or lose the audition or competition. People may treat you differently when you win, but you should always keep working. There have been times when I felt I haven’t played my best at an audition and still advanced to later rounds. Other times, I felt like I really represented myself well and did not make it out of the first round. I started to think I was the worst judge of my own performance. At such times, it is helpful to make a recording and analyze the playing to maintain objectivity.

What is your favorite practice routine?
    I start by slowly improvising in a certain key and really listening to the quality of my tone and pitch. Then I move to a remote key and do the same thing. If everything is in place, I move on to articulation studies and scales. If not, I pick a Moyse exercise from De la Sonorité followed by some work on harmonics. Then I work on vibrato, slow scales, and then Taffanel-Gaubert Ex. 4. I’m a big fan of Michel Debost’s Scale Game (Flute Talk, September 1988). After scales, I use trill studies to activate the fingers and then launch into work on etudes and repertoire.
    When I became a professional musician, I found that I did not have as much time to practice as I did when I was in school, so my practice routine has evolved. I may only do a few minutes of each type of exercise before I learn the many notes in front of me. I have learned to be really efficient about my work, so I get maximum benefit in the shortest amount of time. In a recent week, I performed eleven different works of solo and chamber music spread out over three programs. I remind students that this is normal, and that the time will come when they won’t have all semester to work on one piece. Learning music quickly requires one to be in good shape, so that most of the time can be spent on learning the music, rather than solving technical problems.
    At its best, practicing can become a form of meditation, where we open our awareness of what we are hearing. I often emerge from the practice room feeling energized and balanced, and this makes me more effective in all areas of my life. When it starts to feel like a chore, it is a sure sign that I need to change things up, to challenge myself in different ways. Hearing a recording of a great singer, violinist, or pianist can inspire me to think differently about a difficult passage and to find more musical solutions to technical problems.

What is your approach to pedagogy?
    Music majors enter college from a wide variety of backgrounds. Some have had significant performance experience already, while others may have only played in their high school band with no private lessons. These students often need a lot of remedial work to get them up to the undergraduate playing standard. It is rewarding to work with these students because they can make dramatic improvement relatively quickly.
    My ultimate goal is to make students independent, to get to the point where they don’t need me anymore. They should learn to teach themselves, to ask themselves the right kinds of questions, to examine their playing carefully, and to think creatively about the music. Sometimes students have a difficult time seeing how theory or history classes are relevant. I help them bridge that gap through questions at lessons. For example, in a passage with a lot of accidentals, I may ask, “What key are you playing in here?” Or, “This arpeggio is a type of seventh chord you are familiar with. Which one is it?” Musicians should draw on all the facets of knowledge, both fact-based and creative. All musical activities connect to each other, which is why my standards for music education and music therapy majors are in no way lower than for performance majors.
    Students should understand not only what to practice, but also exactly how to practice it. When my students play etudes for me, they know it is not just about proper execution. They learn to find the melody within all those fast notes. I make them play the skeleton notes, always with their best sound and phrasing, and then add the small notes while keeping the skeleton intact.
    Knowing the structure of a work is a first step toward really learning it. One way for performers to approach a composer’s mind is to write their own pieces. The results may not be on par with Bach’s sonatas, but learning how to organize musical materials will enables students to recognize and appreciate how great composers have solved similar problems. Not to mention how satisfying it is to create an original piece of music.
    Sightreading is a skill that all musicians should learn well. I encourage students to play duets with each other and with friends who play other instruments. Working musicians are often called upon to substitute at the last minute, and their reading skills had better be up to par.

What are some common problems you find in students?
    The placement of the flute is of critical importance. Most students place the flute too high on the chin, causing too much air to escape above the flute. When I show them how to blow a more focused stream of air at the lower edge of the wall, the sound quality improves dramatically.
    Harmonics are useful to facilitate certain difficult intervals and to clear up a fuzzy tone. When a student has trouble making a leap to a high note, he can practice it with a variety of harmonic fingerings in order to get the lips and the air set for the jump. Usually the problem is with the preparation of the leap, not the leap itself. I often use the analogy of a figure skater preparing to make a jump. If the preparation is correct, the leap will be flawless.
    Students often need some exercises for vibrato. I try to demystify vibrato and break it down into its core elements. I find John Wion’s vibrato page, where he has sound clips of professional flutists’ vibratos slowed down, to be very helpful. When I studied with Jeanne Baxtresser, she encouraged me to be truly aware of what I was doing with vibrato, which until then was something that just came rather naturally for me. Of course, playing in a professional orchestra as a section player means you spend a lot of time thinking about proper and creative use vibrato and how to blend not only with flute colleagues, but with the other instruments.
    I push students to expand the dynamic and expressive range of the flute. A conductor I had in school used to berate us for playing everything “mezzoforte comfortabile,” as he put it. It takes great effort to always expand the extreme louds and softs, but it will make you a much more interesting player. I remember Jeanne Baxtresser saying in one of my lessons, “Always work to elevate what you do beyond the merely ordinary.” Those are wise words for both playing the flute and living a good life.

Other Endeavors
McMurtery also performs as a chamber musician with UpTown Flutes (below) and Luna Nova, and has recorded for Naxos. He has appeared as a soloist with the New York Symphonic Ensemble, the Artemis Chamber Ensemble, and the Manhattan Chamber Orchestra. Of his debut performance of Brian Ferneyhough’s Carceri d’Invenzione IIb at the 2005 Lincoln Center Festival, The New York Times wrote: “a tour de force for flute bristling with invention was played brilliantly by John McMurtery…[exploring] the extreme high and low registers of the instrument, zapping back and forth at hyperspeed.”

Previous teaching positions include The University of Nevada–Las Vegas, Westminster Conservatory Young Artist Program, and the Lucy Moses School in New York City. He is a past president of the New York Flute Club.

The post A Conversation with John McMurtery appeared first on The Instrumentalist.