April 2015 Archives - The Instrumentalist /category/april-2015-flute-talk/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 21:34:11 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 PERF (Piccolo Extended Range Fingering) /april-2015-flute-talk/perf-piccolo-extended-range-fingering/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 21:34:11 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/perf-piccolo-extended-range-fingering/     For a long time I have wondered why the flute can play up to a G7 in the fourth octave, but the piccolo cannot play a half-step higher from the C to an altissimo C#. I began experimenting with various fingerings in an attempt to play this elusive C#. While there are several fingerings […]

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    For a long time I have wondered why the flute can play up to a G7 in the fourth octave, but the piccolo cannot play a half-step higher from the C to an altissimo C#.

I began experimenting with various fingerings in an attempt to play this elusive C#. While there are several fingerings on the web for this note, they may or may not work on your piccolo. Try this fingering:

    If this fingering works for you, there are several places in the literature in which you can play this note. In Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 5, Op. 47, 2nd movement, bar 53 there is a passage which ends with a high A, B, C. When that passage returns at 69, it is written a half-step higher A#, B#, C#, except the last two notes are written an octave lower. I think it is logical to assume that Shosta-kovich would have written the two passages alike had he been aware of the piccolo’s ability to play an altissimo C#. Now I am working on a fingering for altissimo D.

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Vibrato /april-2015-flute-talk/vibrato/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 02:05:39 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/vibrato/     Vibrato on the piccolo is produced in the same way as on the flute. It is an oscillation of the air column created in the larynx. Vibrato may be defined as a slight pitch variation within a sustained tone. You can observe this effect by playing a note with vibrato using a digital strobe […]

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    Vibrato on the piccolo is produced in the same way as on the flute. It is an oscillation of the air column created in the larynx. Vibrato may be defined as a slight pitch variation within a sustained tone. You can observe this effect by playing a note with vibrato using a digital strobe tuner. The dial will show this slight fluctuation above and below the correct pitch in rhythm to the vibrato pulse.
    One of the most concise explanations of vibrato is written in Mary Karen Clardy’s Flute Fundamentals Flute Fundamentals: The Building Blocks of Technique (European American Music Corporation, 1993). Clardy cites scientific studies using fiber optic cameras which capture the larynx in action and X-rays which show that the diaphragm is not moving while wind players and singers produce a tone with rich vibrato present in the sound.
    I have long been envious of string pedagogy since vibrato is such a visual event with those instruments. To create a helpful visual aid for flutists, attach a strip of a post-it note to the far side of the piccolo embouchure hole.

When working on vibrato, this strip will bob with the pulse of the breath as the extra air comes across the embouchure hole, providing a bit of a visual confirmation to the concept of vibrato.
    The body uses this area of the larynx when clearing the throat, crying, laughing and singing. I have always loved to teach vibrato as a connected ha, ha, ha sound. First speak the syllables, and then connect them as in singing. Next, remove the consonant h sound and continue singing. Then try all of this through the flute.
    Make sure that you understand the difference between vibrato speed and vibrato width. Speed refers to how many pulses of vibrato are placed per beat. For example, most flute and piccolo players work on counted vibrato speed exercises with a metronome. Set the metronome at q = 60 and vibrate with groups of 3, 4, 5, or 6 per click. When practicing this make sure you connect the pulses evenly without a jarring bump or pulse. Listen to the evolution of vibrato speeds through different recordings. Modern musicians seem to generally favor a slower vibrato than what was in vogue at the turn of the 20th century.
    Wider vibrato naturally moves at a slower speed, and conversely, faster vibrato is narrower. It is very helpful to cultivate a very shallow vibrato (just a hint of shimmer), a normal depth of vibrato, and a wider vibrato which moves throughout the depth of the tone. All three of these kinds of styles are useful on a daily basis. A deeper, slightly slower vibrato can add volume to the tone. Even though vibrato is thought to be a fluctuation of pitch, both on the high and low side, I try to keep it on the lower side so as to not raise my pitch unintentionally. It helps to end notes, or release, on the high side of the vibrato so the pitch does not sag.

Vibrato Pitfalls
    There are a few things to watch out for with vibrato gone awry. Overall, vibrato must be applied with a fairly light hand. If my ears are immediately drawn to vibrato, it is often overpowering the tone. It should be a part of the tone, a shimmering inner core, within the overall sound. Take care that the vibrato is not erratic or uneven. It is possible to have a vibrato that is too wide (particularly in the low register or when playing softly) and likewise, the dreaded nanny goat vibrato is a fault as well. This kind of vibrato is produced with tight vocal chords that make the vibrato thin and wiry. Sometimes the vocal folds are so tight that there is actually a pitch occurring with the vibrato. If this is the case, separate the vocal folds by panting and try again.

Piccolo Specifics
    The artistic application of vibrato on piccolo will be slightly different than on flute. In general, piccolo vibrato will be a little faster and narrower than flute vibrato. Try to listen and downsize your vibrato so it does not overpower the smaller mass of tone on this petite instrument.
    Naturally, vibrato should not be intrusive on tutti passages, especially as the top voice on sustained chords, for example. I sometimes use very little vibrato on chords, which helps the blend, or choose a slower, deeper vibrato for adding just a little sonic interest. If you are playing a passage with an instrument that does not use vibrato, such as the clarinet, make sure you do not vibrate too fast or you will not achieve a good blend. Use more creative speeds and widths on solo passages.
    Vibrato is traditionally not used on busy passages with many sixteenth notes as it distorts the tone and hurts projection. Dynamic levels and the resultant changes in both embouchure size and air pressure will affect vibrato speed as well. If you are playing very softly, vibrato should not be too wide, or you have placed the “heart of an elephant in a mouse” as Trevor Wye has said. Vibrato is a flexible artistic device which must constantly change depending on the requirements of the music.
    Practice starting and stopping your vibrato on a dime to achieve ultimate control. With the metronome set at q = 60, play two beats of straight tone, two beats with vibrato (at varying speeds, 4 pulses, 5 pulses, 6 pulses per click) then back to two beats without vibrato.
    Record your practice to hear yourself as others do. Listen to all kinds of instrumentalists and singers to develop a rich imagination of tonal possibilities for vibrato. I especially enjoy violinists and sopranos because these musicians perform also in the same tessitura as the piccolo. Stay flexible as a conductor may request a different vibrato style than what you have prepared and you should be able to instantly adjust. I have sometimes heard a conductor request no vibrato on the piccolo. Often, this is because the piccolo player is using a flute-sized vibrato (too wide) for the piccolo. If you make the vibrato narrower, you will most likely fix this problem, as rarely would you play a piccolo solo without any vibrato at all, unless for a very desolate piano dynamic.
    Make sure all the other elements of good tone production are in place. This includes a flexible embouchure that focuses the air to the optimal spot on the back wall and a well-supported and fast-moving air column. Remember not to overload the piccolo with air or you will have a harsh, overblown tone quality. Some students incorrectly substitute a wide vibrato in place of a fast-moving airstream. One way to correct this is work on long tones senza vibrato to make sure these two concepts are indeed complementary but separate. Adding vibrato on a stable note is like adding the sprinkles on top of a wonderful and delicious frosted cupcake. Vibrato adds expression, aids projection, and enlivens phrases.

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What I Wished I Had Known Before I Entered the Conservatory /april-2015-flute-talk/what-i-wished-i-had-known-before-i-entered-the-conservatory/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 01:56:17 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/what-i-wished-i-had-known-before-i-entered-the-conservatory/ Above: Joseph Mariano with his wife Anne on his left. Patricia George is on his right. Town & Country Restaurant, Rochester, December 1963.     This past October I attended my 50th reunion of graduation from the Eastman School of Music. As I walked through the mezzanine of the main building, viewing portraits of my favorite […]

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Above: Joseph Mariano with his wife Anne on his left. Patricia George is on his right. Town & Country Restaurant, Rochester, December 1963.

    This past October I attended my 50th reunion of graduation from the Eastman School of Music. As I walked through the mezzanine of the main building, viewing portraits of my favorite teachers, I was flooded with memories of my time with them in the classroom and the studio. Later that evening as I sat in the audience listening to the Eastman Philharmonia, I recalled my three years in the orchestra, all of which were under the direction of Howard Hanson, American composer and former director of the Eastman School of Music. Of course as memories are recalled, the next question is, “What would I have done differently if I had the knowledge and experience I now have?”

Conservatory vs. University
    When I was in high school, guidance counselors were saddled with clerical work which left little time for guiding students in making career choices. Both my parents had earned master’s degrees so it was assumed that I would do the same. During the summers I attended the Interlochen Music Camp (as it was called then). Howard Hanson was one of conductors each summer, so I assumed if Interlochen hired him year after year, he must be someone I would want to study with after high school. My own high school flute teacher A. Clyde Roller (an oboist and conductor of the Amarillo Symphony) was also a regular conductor at Interlochen. He encouraged me to apply to Eastman, which was his alma mater. He also thought Joseph Mariano would be the perfect teacher for me.
    As I entered Eastman and registered for classes, I realized how limiting my course of study would be. For performance majors, six hours of credit was assigned to applied lessons. The other ten credits were divided between theory, music history, English Literature, large ensemble, piano lessons and physical education (At that time, the state of New York required two years of physical education.) As I looked over the curriculum, I realized that I would be well into my junior year before I had any choice of enrichment classes. Luckily I was able to overload in my sophomore year and graduated with a large portion of credits in Comparative Literature and Philosophy. However, if I had had guidance in high school about the differences between a conservatory curriculum and a university liberal arts curriculum, I might have made a different choice. 
    Thus said, if I had attended a university, I would not have had the excellent teaching of Mariano or the opportunity to play in the Eastman Philharmonia, Eastman Wind Ensemble and the Rochester Philharmonic. However, I would have had access to a liberal arts curriculum. Today many conservatories are offering expanded options of four- and five-year double degree programs. At Eastman, students may easily take courses at the River Campus (University of Rochester). Other conservatories have similar arrangements. So if I were making a choice today, I would make the same decision today; however, my selection would be an informed one. Be sure you know what you are getting when you sign on the dotted line. 

Theory Studies
    The theory program at Eastman was designed by Allen J. McHose. Even to this day I would still call the curriculum intense. The 150-member freshman class was divided into ten or so smaller theory classes. Each student was assigned to one of the classes based on his aural skills’ abilities. Theory met five days a week with tests occurring every few weeks. Testing included part-writing, sight-singing, and keyboard harmony. I recall one keyboard harmony test in which the examiner said, “Ah, there just aren’t enough keys to modulate to!” Needless to say, I viewed this theory as an hour of torture each day and would have rather been practicing.
    One day, a clarinetist from someplace in the south asked the teacher what learning all of this theory stuff was going to do for his clarinet playing. It was a question I could have asked too. I don’t think the teacher gave a very good reply. If I were answering the question today, I would say, “Under-standing theory will do everything for your playing and musicianship. The more you know, the better your decoding skills will be in learning to play the repertoire both technically and style wise.” So, if you don’t love music theory or studying music history or even practicing, a performance degree may not be your best choice. If you are in school now, do everything in your power to become proficient in the subject. Get a tutor. Practice sight-singing like you practice your flute playing. 

Applied Lessons
    For five years my applied lessons with Joseph Mariano were the best part of each week. He taught each of us in a different way and to his credit encouraged us to be individuals in our playing. No one sounded the same. Flutists from Boston played with a faster, narrow vibrato. A flutist from California, who had studied with Roger Stevens (himself a Mariano student), was much better versed in playing scales and other technical material than the rest of us. Another flutist studied with Marcel Moyse in the summers and shared his insights. We learned from each other, and I value the evenings we spent in the 4th or 5th floor Annex practice rooms playing for one another and offering comments. Sometimes it was an exchange of ignorance, but nonetheless there was a dialogue and questions were asked.
    Generally in all applied study, no matter the studio/conservatory or professor, there were deficiencies in the curriculum especially in teaching the role of the diaphragm in breathing. It would be well into the late 1970s before Arnold Jacobs encouraged wind players to learn some anatomy. (See Flute Talk, The Teacher’s Studio, March 2015.) When I recall the level of understanding of breathing of wind players of the time, I feel fortunate to now live in a time when breathing is well-taught and understood. I would have also liked to have known where the throat actually was. After years of teaching and asking students where the throat is, I never ask someone to open his throat, but instead ask him to separate his vocal folds. 

The Instruments 
    All flutes are not created equally – even ones from the same maker. In the five years I was at the conservatory, I bought and sold three flutes. None were a good match for me. What I did learn was how to play well on a flute that did not match my physical setup. While that may be valuable in itself, modern flute makers certainly make one’s playing life so much easier today.
Pads were a continual problem. There was a saying at the time among repair craftsmen that the only time a flute was truly sealed was for a couple of hours after the overhaul had been completed. I wish I had known to respect my pads and never to grab the flute with my hands but instead to always hold it by the barrel and only put my finger tips on the keys. 

Ensemble Playing
    I wish I had been more of a team player. I loved the moments when I could soar above the orchestra in Leonore, play the cadenza in Petrushka, or the solo in Piston’s The Incredible Flutist; however, I was rude to my fellow woodwind colleagues in playing the tutti sections. I played too loud and chose the style when playing articulation marks. There was little give and take on my part. However, from my excellent high school band training, I understood playing in a spaced style and what an articulatory silence could do for inflection and expression. I did practice with the metronome regularly even though it was one of the windup ones that needed to be propped up by a stack of music to tick evenly. I did play on the beat and not before, so maybe my colleagues tolerated my good points rather than dwelling on my bad ones.
    Students today are fortunate to have woodwind coaches that teach ensemble playing practices including how to tune and balance chords. Luckily my colleagues in the Philharmonia had excellent ears and could easily adjust the pitch, so tuning was not the issue it could have been in other programs.

Specifics of Flute Playing
    Contrary to what many students think, etudes are not assigned as a weekly torture. Mariano assigned me at least 18 etudes per week. Some of my other colleagues were assigned only a few, but were assigned to play Syrinx up a half-step one week and then up a whole-step the next. Learning so many etudes was a lot of work, but I am thankful that he helped me build a technique while I was still young. I quickly learned that each etude offered the opportunity to practice a different learning strategy and worked on a specific problem. To this day I love playing a book of etudes. 
    I entered Eastman being able to single tongue four sixteenths at MM=152-160. It took me a while to concede that I could tongue faster when double tonguing. I don’t know why it took me so long to become a believer. The double tongue syllables DaGa were taught then and through the years I have learned to do the forward tonguing (thi-key). For sure my tonguing sounds better now. I never get tired or worry that a conductor is going to conduct faster than I can tongue. 
    While I had solved the vibrato issue with my studies at Interlochen with Frances Blaisdell, many of my colleagues let their vibratos control them. Vibrato is part of playing the flute, and it must be controlled. Learn to control it now rather than waiting for later.
    It seems like every flute jury began with the committee asking for a slurred three-octave chromatic scale. I wish that I had figured out to move backwards for the low C and C#, and then move forward starting on the D for the rest of the scale. There is no way that you will get a smooth connection when moving the right pinkie back as your flute is moving forward.
    Recording oneself was difficult when I was in conservatory. Today excellent study recordings can be made on a cell phone. There is no excuse to not record yourself several times a day. I am sure my progress would have been better if I could have heard myself more frequently.

Back to Theory
    Perhaps it was obvious to my fellow students, but I wish I had taken what I learned in theory and applied it directly to my practice. I knew my scales and chords, but it was a while before I began to play and read by chords and familiar patterns. I could circle, label and define non-chord tones, but had not made the connection that non-chord tones are the notes you will color or give special attention to when playing melodies. My advice is to analyze everything, and if you don’t understand something, find someone to help you.
 
Ask Questions
    At times everyone feels intimated at school and is afraid to ask questions. Students may feel embarrassed to tell someone in authority that they do not understand something about playing the flute or about music. Students may be afraid to ask a conductor a question and seem as though they are not ready to play in the group. Take chances, ask questions, but before you do see if you can to find the answer on your own though the internet or a friend. However, as a teacher I think there are no wrong or stupid questions. That is what I am here for – to answer your questions.

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A Time of Reflection /april-2015-flute-talk/a-time-of-reflection/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 01:27:54 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/a-time-of-reflection/     As an undergraduate student I was not fully able to recognize the true importance of music theory. Harmony, counterpoint, and piano classes seemed like a chore on top of the demands of rigorous flute lessons. I was willing to spend hours in the practice room trying to make something sound beautiful, but attending these […]

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    As an undergraduate student I was not fully able to recognize the true importance of music theory. Harmony, counterpoint, and piano classes seemed like a chore on top of the demands of rigorous flute lessons. I was willing to spend hours in the practice room trying to make something sound beautiful, but attending these courses took away from my beloved practice time.
    One class I did particularly enjoy was sight-singing. Our lovely teacher was from France, and she had a great authority and flair for teaching us the traditional “Fixed Do” system, more typically used outside of the United States. We would sight-sing music of Varèse, Berio, and Messiaen, and somehow I found this challenge more artistically worthy of my time. I also enjoyed the dictation aspect, even though four-part harmony was often difficult to discern. I had no training in this area prior to college, but the idea of solving an aural puzzle kept me interested and curious.
    As a graduate student, I admit I needed some theory review. I still found the analysis approach to music a bit dry, and I would often spend my time delinquently (and silently of course) sight-singing my way through flute etudes during my theory classes. Although this is certainly not how I recommend that students spend their time during class, I realized at the time that this was allowing me to learn my etudes much faster, and basically I knew them all even before I played them on the flute. I was grateful that I took solfeggio classes seriously.
    As my general musicality matured through flute study, I began to recognize the true importance of structure, form, and harmony. While I had developed a diverse set of musical tools and a wide palette of colors on the flute, with a better theoretical and harmonic understanding, I started to recognize not only how to use these tools, but when, where and why. As I look back on my undergraduate years, I realize that my interpretations were often based on my own sentimentality and expression, and not always on a knowledgeably guided or theoretically applied approach.
    Now, as a university professor, I work with my students diligently on understanding the harmonic structure of the music in order to offer sensible phrasing and inflection of the melody. Studio teachers should aim to correlate what the students are learning in their academic classes with lesson material to enforce the importance and relevance to their progress on the instrument and with the music.
    The flute is typically a melodic instrument, so it is possible to go through the basic high school lesson curriculum easily and to progress well without having to think much about harmony. Because of this, flutists and other treble instrumentalists and singers often have trouble hearing or discerning lower voices because the ear is so drawn to the top voice. If students are exposed to the idea of harmony and voicing at a younger age, they are more likely to progress well through theory and piano study in college. It will also be much easier for students to work with pianists on solo repertoire because they will have a better understanding of harmonic structure. If at all possible, before entering a college music program, students should begin piano lessons, theory classes, sing in choirs, and play chamber music to lay a better foundation for mastering the university curriculum.
    College music majors usually choose a university or conservatory based on who the applied teacher is. Four years working one-on-one with a skilled studio teacher is one of the most important aspects of serious music education. However, all too often, students do not take into account the other kinds of opportunities that contribute to a well-rounded and complete approach to learning. Taking the required music history and theory courses, sight-singing and dictation, rhythm and movement, piano and conducting classes seriously are a key element in achieving future success. Most aspiring young music professionals are typically willing to devote much time to the mastery of their instrument; however they often lack a true understanding of the music itself, through a multifaceted viewpoint.
    While searching for music programs, students should thoroughly investigate the course offerings of each school. It is also important to understand the school’s balance between general academic requirements and music curriculum requirements. Each student will have his or her own goals, and achieving the goals will be less of a task if a student clearly understands the expectations of the school before enrollment. When visiting a campus, students often take a lesson with the studio teacher and observe large ensembles; however it is also wise to sit in on academic classes, if possible, as well.
    Course offerings will vary from school to school. Some schools offer separate harmony and sight-singing classes, while others combine the two. Some schools use the traditional solfeggio system of “Fixed Do” while others employ the “Moveable Do” system. Each system has its advantages and disadvantages; however it is important to understand the difference between the two and how each system could be beneficial to your learning. If music theory is of particular interest, you may want to seek out a school that offers a graduate program, as many schools allow undergraduates to take graduate-level courses while still an undergraduate. These courses typically go beyond the traditional offerings of basic undergraduate harmony, form and analysis.
    While an undergrad I may not have been musically mature enough to understand the artistic importance of theory, it has been through my own curiosity and study over the years that I have realized how relevant and integral this foundation is to have as a performer and teacher. The more we recognize this importance, the better we will be able to nurture each aspect of our musicianship, and the more success we will have ourselves and with our students.

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Working with a Harpist /april-2015-flute-talk/working-with-a-harpist/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 01:13:21 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/working-with-a-harpist/     Collaborating with a harpist as a duo or within a larger ensemble presents many rewards and challenges. Understanding more about the harp will help flutists choose appropriate repertoire, prepare well for rehearsals, and perform confidently as an ensemble. The Harp     The harp, like the piano, can be played as a solo or accompaniment […]

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    Collaborating with a harpist as a duo or within a larger ensemble presents many rewards and challenges. Understanding more about the harp will help flutists choose appropriate repertoire, prepare well for rehearsals, and perform confidently as an ensemble.

The Harp
    The harp, like the piano, can be played as a solo or accompaniment instrument. A concert grand harp has 47 strings covering six and a half octaves, a range almost as large as that of the piano. The strings are laid out like the white keys on the piano and are color coded for identification. The C strings are red, the F strings are black, and all others are a natural color. There are not separate strings that correspond to the black keys on the piano.
    In order to play an accidental on the harp, a harpist moves one of the seven foot pedals. There is one for each of the seven notes of the scale. Each pedal has three positions: flat, natural and sharp. When all of the pedals are in the highest position, the strings are tuned to the key of Cb. Moving a pedal to the lower position raises the pitch of the corresponding string.
    Using the D string as an example, the top pedal position produces a Db. When the D pedal is pressed down to the middle notch, each disc in the harp’s action corresponding to a D string will rotate, grip and shorten the vibrating length of each D string to create a Dn pitch. When the foot pedal is pressed down to the lowest notch, the corresponding discs in the second row of the action will rotate and create  D#. The foot pedals are connected to the action at the top of the harp through rods in the harp’s column. The harp has over 1,000 moveable parts.

The Pedals
    The foot pedals are positioned with three on the left: D, C, B, and four on the right: E, F, G, A. This gives harpists the option of changing two pedals at the same time, one in each foot. When watching a harpist play, most people fail to notice the feet, which can be very busy, especially with more chromatic music.

Notation
    Harpists read three lines of music at the same time: the right hand, the left hand, and pedal change notation which is marked throughout the piece. For every accidental in the music there is a pedal change followed by a second change to cancel the accidental. Most harpists prefer to mark in their own pedal changes, especially if the composer or editor is not a harpist.
    Before beginning a piece, the flutist must wait for the harpist to position all seven pedals according to the key signature of the piece. When rehearsing, a harpist will need to check the pedals for a section before starting. Marking pedal diagrams throughout the harp part makes rehearsals run smoothly. Remember, even with all the fingers on the correct strings, an incorrect pedal will result in a wrong note.

Fingering
    Harpists often mark in fingerings, especially in technical passages, much like pianists. However, unlike the piano in which all fingers may be used, the harp is played with the thumb, the index, middle and ring fingers on each hand. The little finger is not used because it cannot reach far enough nor is it strong enough to make a good sound. The fingertips do not touch the surface like a piano keyboard but instead need to wrap around each string in order to pluck it. Harpists read several notes ahead and prepare the fingers by placing them on the strings in groups according to the phrase. This is called connecting the fingers and is marked, along with the fingerings, by brackets in the music. Every string feels the same, so harpists use the red C strings and black F strings for finger placement. When the notes jump beyond the comfortable span of an octave, harpists must look away from the music to visually place the fingers accurately.

Sightreading and Beyond
    Because of the intricacies of playing the harp, flutists should not expect to hand a new piece to harpists and expect them to sightread it as easily as other flutists would. Harpists need time to prepare the part before the first rehearsal in order to mark in pedal changes and be aware of the challenges of the work. This is especially important in advanced chamber music, which tends to be more chromatic and rhythmically complex.
    Harpists usually sightread at a slower tempo than flutists might prefer. Be prepared to take extra breaths, especially in longer phrases. Once the repertoire is chosen, and rehearsals have begun, unless the harpist has had sufficient time to learn the part thoroughly in advance, expect to gradually work up to the final tempo, otherwise the harpist will sacrifice accuracy or drop notes in order to keep up. Harp parts are generally more complicated than flute parts, so it will take the harpist longer to learn them. Remember that the harpist is reading three lines of music, coordinating pedal changes, preparing the fingers for each note, and looking away from the music at times to visually place the fingers.
    While playing under tempo in early practice sessions, take the opportunity to check that rhythms in the flute and harps parts are fitting together perfectly. Listen for intonation and for melodic material in the harp part, which might be obscured within dense chords or arpeggios. When playing a lively piece at a slow rehearsal tempo, be sure to play with the same rhythmic vitality, crisp articulation, and energetic tone that you will use at a performance tempo.

Positioning
    Three factors should be considered when deciding how to position each instrument and musician on stage: acoustics, eye contact and visual appeal for the audience. The flute will project best when the end of the flute is pointed more toward the audience rather than to the back of the stage, and the harp will project best when the soundboard is pointed toward the audience.
    If other instruments are involved, the acoustic tendencies of each instrument should be weighed to find the ideal solution for the ensemble, while also being sure each musician has clear sight lines for the entire group.
From the audience’s perspective, the position of the harp should be considered, so that the harpist is not hidden behind the instrument. The harp rests on the harpist’s right shoulder, and the music stand is to the left of the instrument. The visible part of the mechanism, called the action, is on the left side of the harp, making that the front of the instrument. This should be the side that is angled toward the audience.
    When playing as a flute and harp duo, the ideal set-up is for the harp to be to the flutist’s left. In this position, each instrument is directing its sound toward the hall. In addition, the front of the harp is visible to the audience, and the musicians have a clear view of each other through the harp strings when the instruments are angled correctly. This provides the flutist with a clear view of the harpist’s fingers, which helps to coordinate attacks and tempo changes. It also allows the harpist to peripherally watch the flutist while placing fingers on the strings.
 
Intonation
    Playing in tune with a harp can be a difficult task, and it is a much different experience from playing with a piano, where the pitch is very consistent, or  other instrumentalists who can compromise and adjust their pitch as necessary. Harpists need to tune all 47 strings of the harp, and if a string is out of tune, pitch cannot be fixed without stopping and adjusting the string with a tuning key. Even if the harp is tuned meticulously, the pitch will not always hold for an entire performance or even a piece. Flutists should be flexible, listen carefully, and adjust when necessary. During rehearsal or just prior to a concert, don’t hesitate to ask the harpist to check or adjust the pitch of particular strings or chords.
    When tuning to the harp, it is recommended that the harpist play a chord in the middle register, for example D minor, to which the flutist can compare the pitch of the notes in that chord. Rather than tuning to a single string, which may be a bit higher or lower in pitch with the rest of the harp, tuning to a chord provides a better representation of the pitch level of the entire harp.
    In order to better anticipate the pitch tendencies of the harp, it is useful to understand the intricacies of harp intonation. Harpists tune the instrument with the pedals in the top flat position. If a harp is not regulated by a technician and maintained with new strings every year, even after tuning the strings perfectly in flat position, the natural and sharp pitches created on same string can be off. Additionally, strings might not hold pitch well due to temperature and humidity changes, which cause the wood on the harp to shrink or expand, effecting the tension of the strings. This is particularly a problem when moving the harp from one location to another, which is why harpists prefer to arrive early in order to allow the harp to acclimate to the space. New strings require very frequent tuning and take several days to stretch to the ideal tension.
    Flutists should be aware that the highest strings on the harp will sound a bit flat when plucked loudly. Of course, the flute tends to play sharp in the high register, so an even greater effort must be made to bring the pitch down to match the harp when both instruments are playing high and loud. Remember, the harpist cannot adjust the pitch once the piece starts, so the flutist must be aware and make the necessary changes. If there are certain pitches that are consistently problematic, a helpful trick is for the harpist to tune those strings a bit higher from the outset, provided this does not cause any adverse problems in the remainder of the piece.

Become a Great Collaborator
    Just as flutists expect collaborators to accommodate the flute’s technical limitations and allow space for breathing and phrasing, other musicians appreciate colleagues who are considerate of their instrument’s challenges. By working closely with a harpist to better understand the harp’s intricacies, you can become a more sensitive collaborator and strengthen your ensemble.

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Reflections on Inspiration and Spontaneity, Part 2 /april-2015-flute-talk/reflections-on-inspiration-and-spontaneity-part-2/ Tue, 31 Mar 2015 00:58:12 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/reflections-on-inspiration-and-spontaneity-part-2/     Part 1 of this article in the March issue focused on the nature of inspiration and spontaneity, and some ways they work in our playing. It also examined obstacles and various contexts, and questioned whether these are forces flutists can manipulate and control. As mentioned previously, doing spontaneous things in concert may sometimes be […]

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    Part 1 of this article in the March issue focused on the nature of inspiration and spontaneity, and some ways they work in our playing. It also examined obstacles and various contexts, and questioned whether these are forces flutists can manipulate and control. As mentioned previously, doing spontaneous things in concert may sometimes be inappropriate, but spontaneity should still happen on different levels in our playing. The basic question that this second article continues to explore is how to keep inspiration going in spite of obstacles, and how to become skilled at being spontaneous in performance.

Levels and Balance
    Spontaneity in performance is something to achieve. You cannot just wait for it to happen accidentally, you have to generate it. It requires skill, knowledge of the music, and presence in the moment. First, you have to consider what degree of spontaneity is appropriate and wise. In performance certain things can be left to chance, but some framework must be in place. For example, think about being on vacation. Too much planning, and experiences can become mechanical, more like chores. Too little planning, and you may miss your flight. There is a balance point. A successful experience takes a certain mastery of knowledge of your environment, destination, and yourself.
    Then there are those pesky elements beyond control such as lighting, temperature, intonation discrepancies, and even the audience. Creating a positive situation is a skill. Reflect for a moment that circumstances will always be changeable in a performance, so musicians should not expect that their playing should always be the same. Usually performers just have to go with the flow and relax, even though things are not happening the way they envisioned. This may prove difficult or impossible in performance, however, if one cannot control the nerves. It is a big topic, but one aspect of feeling nervous about performance is a negative state of self-doubt. Many positive experiences must occur to build up enough confidence for spontaneity to happen in the playing.

Controlled Spontaneity
    Concerning the definition of spontaneous, for this article I want to add: “within a familiar and well-defined context.” There are many different styles of music, and performance occurs in varied contexts. These can range from the nearly complete freedom of creating jazz improvisation (although many jazz musicians plan quite a few things in their improvisations) to simply changing phrase emphasis in a Gaubert sonata in the spur of the moment. In Baroque music, performers may leave some ornaments to chance. In Romantic music they may leave some tempo manipulations for the moment itself. In the very exuberant passage below from the Prokofiev Sonata, 2nd movement, the tempo can either stay stable or be flexible. When you alter the tempo more, the characterization of the phrase is more exaggerated. It works either way, and you can agree with the pianist to feel it together in the moment.

Prokofiev Sonata, 2nd mvt., m. 13-20 after no. 18


Improvised?
    There are pieces in the repertoire, more often for solo flute, which are supposed to sound improvised, but every note is still printed. Rhythms and meters are sometimes less exactly indicated. A composer may indicate that a piece should have the character of an improvisation, such as the Ibert Piéce, Bozza Image, or some of Katherine Hoover’s solo flute works. There is space for more spontaneity, but this is not license to change everything. It means that you must conjure the attitude of spontaneity. It is easier to define this quality by what it is not. Basically, it means eliminating the characteristics of predictability in the timing and physical energy. Only certain types of pieces go that far without extending into the more extreme realm of aleatoric composition, which can have a closer resemblance to jazz improvisation.
    Debussy’s Syrinx has had more than its fair share of abuse regarding spontaneity, and much has been said on the topic. Even though it is a solo flute piece I cannot think of a single reason why Syrinx should sound like a free improvisation; Syrinx is as carefully wrought as a complex algebra equation. Creating the atmosphere of immediacy and spontaneity in the performance of Syrinx is not the same as changing the rhythms and dynamics, which is an annoyingly common interpretation to this day. For example the figuration in measure 6 printed below is perhaps the most commonly bowdlerized rhythm in the piece.


    Try playing the 16th note triplets in rhythm. They are often played quite fast, and arhythmically, which makes them sound like a spontaneously improvised flourish at best, or more commonly a minor onset of epilepsy. Playing them in tempo with a little crescendo, without shortening the last note, can be refreshingly poetic.

More about Re-experiencing
    Spontaneity is not only a state of mastery, it is a state of mind. Earlier I said that spontaneity comes from inspiration which is a positive force; it can regenerate. The best performers are good at sounding spontaneous even when they don’t feel that way. I have heard Yo-Yo Ma play the Dvorák Concerto many times, and cannot recall a single note that was less than inspired. He did not change his interpretation every night; in fact, the basic interpretation of the piece was quite the same each performance. Similarly, Shakespearian and Broadway actors must repeat the same roles hundreds of times, but the best rarely give a stale performance. So wherein lies the spontaneity and inspiration?
    The answer is that they re-experience the piece anew every time. This is very similar to telling your favorite joke to different people. You may embellish, and each time re-experience the humor as the new audience enjoys the punch line. Practice this by telling a favorite joke to several different people. I would bet that you start embellishing the story after a couple times through, and as you become more confident and familiar with the joke, your perspective on the audience changes. Maybe sometimes you laugh harder with them, or perhaps you do not laugh with them, out of a sense of confidence. Either way, you feed off of their energy, the same way performers respond to the audience’s energy as they play.
    Familiarity with the material is the real key. When performers really know a work and have a genuine interpretation, they can relive the drama of the piece each time they play it. This is similar to the way a jazz artist may improvise. Though playing the same tune every night, he may choose to improvise on a certain interpretation of the harmony one performance and a different aspect the next. Sometimes inspiration strikes at just the right moment, and it is possible to play something a new way even after multiple performances, as if seeing the piece live through performance. We can develop intimate relationships with great works of music just as we can with people.
 
Practicing Spontaneity
    Is it possible to practice spontaneity? Practice, repetition, and spontaneity, at least on the surface seem to be strange bedfellows, but looking deeper, spontaneity requires several things: flexibility, ease of execution, and the ability to think in the moment. This last quality is closely related to the idea of re-experiencing the originality and emotion of the piece while playing. Looking over these qualities, I can scarcely think of better reasons to practice.
    Flexibility and ease are really the key qualities, because playing spontaneously is playing freely. So fundamentals are the place to start, and never shy away from returning to them. Practice playing things different ways and do not be afraid to experiment with every aspect. It is mainly important that you have actually heard yourself play the piece different ways. If this is unfamiliar to you, experiment with smaller examples to focus your ideas, like the excerpts in Moyse’s wonderful Tone Development Through Interpretation. Use a recorder to keep things clear. This is especially helpful with varying vibrato and rhythm.
    To hone skills, isolate rhythm from other aspects. Unfortunately, when it comes to being creative, many players resort to changing the beat or using rubato, the cheapest form of musical expression. Other elements can be freely manipulated to great effect without changing the beat which can be of benefit in cases where the composer clearly does not want the tempo to be changed, such as the flute solo of the finale of Brahms’s 4th Symphony. In his book The Composer’s Advocate, conductor Erich Leinsdorf clearly expresses his disdain for slowing down the tempo for expressive means in that solo:


“In the finale of Brahms’ Fourth Symphony…a crucial tempo relation – the quarter equals the quarter at the start of the flute solo….is most notable for being disregarded…the common approach is to ritard gradually as one approaches the 32 and then let the first flute player have his arioso….Here the languid treatment by most flute players creates a 64 in which the sighs of the strings and horn fall on actual beats instead of being felt as syncopations…they lose the quality of anxiousness that Brahms intended.”


(From The Composer’s Advocate, Erich Leinsdorf, Yale University Press, 1981. pp. 147-148)

    If one agrees with Leinsdorf, then it is clearly important to be able to create the expression of the solo without having to slow down the tempo. This requires flexibility with other elements of the tone such as color, dynamics, phrasing, and vibrato.
    Stravinsky was also concerned about issues of rhythmic manipulation in his indications regarding the famous cadenza in Petrushka, where he clearly advises the flutist not to accelerate the tempo. The cadenza must sound spontaneous without hurrying.

3 Bars At No. 31, 1911 version, flute 1


    After working on expanding your skills within certain boundaries, risk performing spontaneously for friends and family who are a less critical audience. Try a new interpretation; it may be a version only a mother could love, but at least you will get the feeling of going for different things in the piece. Experiment with aspects which you do not carefully plan.
    If a piece is feeling stale, take some time away to allow the heart to grow fond again. Keep moving through new repertoire as well, but with pieces that are familiar, take a more serious look, as in the Mozart example in part 1.
    Looking at things from a different point of view can also keep the door to spontaneity open. Listening to a good live performance or a famous older recording can help. Also, do some biographical research, or specific reading on the composer’s works. I was re-inspired to play Brahms’ 4th Symphony after reading The Taking Back, a chapter concerning the last movement in Jan Swafford’s biography of the composer:


“…the B section…begins with a flute solo of unforgettable tragic beauty, exquisitely poised between moll and Dur…In the Coda of the Fourth Symphony there is no transformation but rather a sustained tragic intensity that reels to the final E minor chords…Brahms does not turn to major at the end of a minor-key piece. He allows the darkness to stand, gives tragedy the last word…Brahms Fourth narrates a progression from troubling twilight to a dark night…With this work Brahms at the onset of old age shaped his apprehensions and prophesies into a vessel of consummate craft, his dark answer…to Beethoven’s (Ode to) joy.
"


(From Johannes Brahms, A Biography by Jan Swafford, Vintage Books, 1997, pgs. 525-526.)

Craft
The bottom line is that you must be comfortable with your skills in order to have enough free energy for spontaneity and revitalized inspiration. When the piece requires that few if any liberties can be taken, skills are even more important. In that case you can concentrate on the pleasure of recreating the work in exactly the same way, or the enjoyment of sharing music-making with friends and colleagues. On the most basic level of creativity, the craft of flute playing itself is so immeasurably complex and fun, that playing the flute can become a spontaneous expression of joy each time you pick up the instrument.

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Early Music: A Conversation With Barthold Kuijken /april-2015-flute-talk/early-music-a-conversation-with-barthold-kuijken/ Mon, 30 Mar 2015 23:24:33 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/early-music-a-conversation-with-barthold-kuijken/     Barthold Kuijken is an eminent leader in the field of Early Music. A virtuoso traverso soloist, teacher, researcher, and conductor, he has shaped the fields of historical flutes and historically informed performance over the last 40 years. A Flemish native of Belgium, Kuijken has performed and recorded most of the repertoire for the Baroque […]

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    Barthold Kuijken is an eminent leader in the field of Early Music. A virtuoso traverso soloist, teacher, researcher, and conductor, he has shaped the fields of historical flutes and historically informed performance over the last 40 years. A Flemish native of Belgium, Kuijken has performed and recorded most of the repertoire for the Baroque flute. He has collaborated with other early music specialists including his brothers, Sigiswald Kuijken (violin) and Wieland Kuijken (cello and viola da gamba), Frans Brüggen, and harpsichordist Gustav Leonhardt. Kuijken is the Artistic Director and conductor of the Indianapolis Baroque Orchestra. He recently retired as Professor of Baroque Flute at the Royal Conservatories of Brussels and The Hague. In 2013, Kuijken received the NFA Lifetime Achievement Award.

You are widely regarded as a pioneer of Early Music. How did you become interested in playing the traverso?
    Let me begin by saying that I don’t feel like a pioneer of Early Music. There were people who were doing these kinds of things, perhaps in a different way, long before me. I have been very active in the Early Music field and have taught many students in addition to making lots of recordings, but I am not a pioneer.
    I grew up in a house in which music was a very natural part of life. During my childhood, my two older brothers, Wieland and Sigiswald, were already on their way to becoming professional musicians and making their first steps in Early Music. I heard my brothers practicing whenever I came home from school. We often played together whenever there was any free time. Being the youngest, I was just pointed to what part I should play. I learned to read music and to skip over things I couldn’t play, which was an excellent schooling in sightreading.
    My brothers had a friend who would bring recordings over to our house. In those days, we had very few records of our own. The many hours spent listening to the early recordings of Deller, Wenzinger, Harnoncourt, Brüggen, and Leonhardt awakened our curiosity and made us hungry for more. However, living quite isolated in the small provincial town of Bruges, didn’t make things easier. Luckily, the Brussels Conservatory had a very rich musical instruments museum and a superb library. It is a real gold mine filled with old manuscripts, prints, treatises, and books.
    For my 13th birthday, my brother Sigiswald gave me the facsimile of the Quantz treatise, which was of course in German and in Gothic print. German and Flemish are related languages, but probably not much more than German and English. The Gothic print was also kind of a problem, but I knew that my parents had a dictionary with those kinds of letters in their library. I just sat down in the evenings and tried to read it, learning German along the way. After a week or so, I must have finished the first page, which is the dedication, and of course not very informative. Reading Quantz, I started to realize that he must have been talking about another flute than my familiar Boehm instrument. This was then confirmed by seeing pictures and instruments at the museum. As luck had it, a friend of a friend had a traverso that I could try. Later, while in my first year of flute studies at the Brussels Royal Conservatory, I found a beautiful original traverso made in Brussels ca. 1750. This instrument was the best teacher I ever had.

Who were your main teachers?
    I received a mainstream conservatory training on Boehm flute with Francis Stoefs at the Brussels Conservatory and went on to study with Frans Vester at the Royal Conservatory of the Hague. On the traverso, I had no formal teachers because there were simply none around. Of course I had lots of contact with my two older brothers who play cello, viola da gamba, and violin. I would also mention Alfred Deller, one of the first British countertenors. Although I never had lessons with him, I attended one or two of his masterclasses. The only thing that he really said, and kept saying in his most gentle voice was, “text please,” and that was it. No technical directions, sound exercises, or vocal exercises, just, “text please.” This statement has stayed with me. Alfred Deller was the first who made me aware of the fact that in vocal music, pronunciation is absolutely essential. Consequently, for us instrumentalists, having no text to guide us, articulation becomes even more of an issue. Cantabile without words (or without adequate replacement of text by elaborate articulation) makes no sense; it simply becomes la-la-la, however beautiful the la may be.
    I am also immensely grateful to Gustav Leonhardt. He wouldn’t have ever agreed, but he has been a kind of mentor for me. I had the great fortune of frequently playing with him ever since I was a young musician until his very last year. I was always touched by his attitude of respect for music, taking notation seriously but not literally. Notation had to be decoded competently, with insight, and heartfelt. As a performer, he never aimed to push himself to the forefront. There was always a great sense of internal logic and consequence in what he did. I think he was probably one of the people who have marked me the most.

What led you to begin playing in Early Music ensembles? 
    From the late 1960s and early 1970s, I played quite a lot of concerts with my brothers and harpsichordist Robert Kohnen. In the beginning, we didn’t even have a name. We were called the Kuijken Ensemble or Kuijken Quartet. We toured a lot in the U.S. and Canada in the 1970s and 1980s. At the same time, I played in La Petite Bande, the chamber orchestra that my brother Sigiswald started in 1972. We first played many early French works (Lully and Rameau) and later extended to Bach, Handel, Haydn, and Mozart. From the early to late 1970s, I played in a German Early Music chamber orchestra, Collegium Aureum. We did some Baroque repertoire, but also a lot of Classical to early Romantic music. The last project was Beethoven’s Eroica on early instruments. That was quite an adventure. There was no conductor, just a very good concertmaster. Probably now, we would say that that group was stylistically about half way, but at least we were half way – the cup was half full!
    Then there were the yearly passions and masses, which are a large part of musical life in Europe (like Handel’s Messiah in the U.S.). I was not familiar with church music initially because my family was not Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. We were just nothing, which was quite rare in those days in Flanders. Certainly in the small beautiful town of Bruges where we lived in the 50s and 60s, most people were Catholic. My first and best contacts with religion were the many visits to the great French Romanesque and Gothic cathedrals to look at the artwork. Even more strongly, playing Bach’s St. John Passion each year was a wonderful entrance into the religious atmosphere. I am still incredibly fond of that piece.

How would you describe the differences between modern flute and traverso?
    I could say that traverso is exactly the same as modern flute, and everything is different. The principle of course is the same: traverso and modern flute are both flutes. You have an embouchure, finger holes, and a tube. That is about it, as far as how they are absolutely similar. Since the size of the embouchure hole is mostly much smaller, you need another breathing technique or breathing dimension. Since you don’t have all the keys of a modern flute, you need other fingerings. And then, the aesthetics are very different: the ultimate idea of the Baroque flute was not the strong, perfect, homogenous and brilliant sound of a modern flute, but rather a more individually colored scale and a vocal style. This requires a completely different playing technique.
    We have always had the problem of whether evolution should be called progress. Certainly with the modern flute, you really gain in equality, homogeneity, volume, and ease, but maybe you lose the different colors and subtlety. You can’t have it all, I think. The moment that I perceive a certain piece of music needs more of the typical characteristics of an early flute, the modern flute gives me the feeling of having the wrong tool in my hands. I am certain that in many situations, a knife can replace a screwdriver, but I would always rather choose the tool that is asked to do that particular job. When a modern composer hears the word flute, he has a certain image in mind. When Couperin heard the word flute, he would have had a totally different image. We would immediately start laughing at the suggestion of playing the Prokofiev Sonata on traverso, but we don’t laugh when people play a Bach Sonata on modern flute – isn’t that strange. We will never know entirely what the exact right tool would be, but I would love to use the tool that the composer might have had in mind when he wrote the piece.

What advice do you have for modern flutists who are interested in playing traverso?
    I would certainly start by getting a good instrument, at A = 415 Hz or lower, with a small round embouchure hole. Such instruments force you to adapt immediately a great deal, since they do not allow you to blow very hard. In most modern flute schools, there is a lot of blowing involved, and most of the early instruments don’t like that. Then I would work on getting the forked fingerings like F natural or A flat in the first octave to sound well and in tune. The forked fingerings will not work when you blow too strongly. I would not try to achieve volume in the beginning, but rather care for a very well-focused sound that allows you to quickly and easily change dynamics on any note. I would forget about vibrato (except the occasional finger vibrato). Never try to suppress vibrato: it will fight back. If we replace the shape that vibrato gives to a note by another conscious shape, such as a crescendo-diminuendo messa di voce, we easily forget vibrato.
    I have always thought that the French repertoire (Hotteterre, de la Barre, Philidor, Blavet) is a very good starting point for learning to play the traverso. Beginning with French music is much better than Vivaldi, Handel, or Bach since it is written very idiomatically for the instrument and comes from these flutist-composers’ personal experience. I would also play music that has a text as often as possible. Provided you know the language, the text will give you all of the necessary cues about breathing, articulation, phrasing, dynamics, and mood. Of course, not all music has an English text, and in fact, there isn’t even that much Baroque music with an English text. Thus, along with studying French repertoire, I would say, learn French. When playing German or Italian music, learn German and Italian. I would feel very strange spending my life playing Chinese music without being able to speak Chinese! Every language has its own melody, harmony, and rhythm that are naturally reflected in the music. One should acquire an intimate knowledge of those languages. Just understanding it passively is really not enough. I need to get the feel of it, learn to really read and speak it, and know its vocabulary, grammar, and syntax. That’s a lot of work, but there really is no other option.
    The arts are a huge and incredibly rich field. If I want to understand the music of a certain period it is not a bad idea to study the other art forms of that same time, be it literature, dancing, painting, sculpture, or whatever. Those are very important points of information and comparison. If you are studying French Baroque music, looking at French paintings from time of Louis XIV gives you an idea of how people were dressed, how they would move, and what kind of landscape they had in their fantasy. Music is just one little slice of art. To understand it, see the whole loaf of bread, and not just one slice.

How do you approach a new piece?
    I love to study a piece without the instrument. Just sit in an easy chair and let the piece come into you in the same way that you would do with a piece of poetry. Read it, and read it again, and read it again, and let it come in. Then start all over, reading it until the sound result of the piece becomes very clear in your mind. It is important to have a crystal clear idea of what you want to say before opening your mouth. I really feel that once we know what we want to hear, or rather need to hear, in every detail, the piece is basically practiced. With a good technique, you can do it, or you will easily find a technique enabling you to create that inner image. In other words, work backward from the imagined artistic result to the technical problems that may occur, but not vice versa. Starting with the technical problem might bring you towards a technical solution, but not necessarily towards art.
     When we play music that somebody else composed, we kind of handle someone else’s property, and I want to do that with respect. As a performer, I think that in the first place it is about the piece. I have the role of a translator or a messenger. Most people in the audience cannot read music, so they need somebody to play it for them. I do not want to pull the whole thing toward me and say, “Good old Bach is dead and buried, so I will play it the way I want on the instrument I want.” Of course, if somebody wants to do that, he or she should. However, I think it’s a bit unfair towards the composer. Try to understand what the composers wrote, notice how fast ideas change, how fast fashions change, and how fast technique changes. Try to figure out how people in earlier times decoded notation. This way of studying takes a while, but it’s very fruitful.
    I had been busy with the idea of decoding early notation ever since I read Quantz. I noticed that he writes music and then tells you in his book what you should add during performance, even though nobody would have ever cared to notate it. This was the opposite of my conservatory experience. We were expected to play exactly what was written and not dare to add a note or change a dynamic. I think that it was very healthy that I was already confronted with this dilemma at an early age: was I going to follow modern notation reading technique of playing only what’s on the page, or was I going to follow the notation decoding that I learned in treatises like Quantz and others. It became obvious to me that the second answer was the right one. Why should I play Quantz using notation reading techniques that are appropriate for the music of Boulez? Vice versa, if I would treat the Boulez Sonatine as if it were a Bach or Quantz sonata (adding ornaments, dynamics, and articulations), you would laugh and say you can’t do that. If I reverse the argument, I would say that you can’t do that – playing literally only what is written on the page – to a Telemann or Bach sonata either. When we see how everything in life (and in music) changes, wouldn’t it be strange if we should apply the same decoding conventions for all music from all times? It is very interesting to see how the encoding and decoding of pitch, tempo, rhythm, phrasing, articulation, dynamics, ornamentation, and instrumentation change with place and time. It is like learning to read through the composers’ glasses. That was the starting point that ultimately led to my book, The Notation Is Not the Music. This book is not an Early Music method book. I rather wanted to reflect on the underlying ideas and principles that could guide us when performing earlier repertoire.

How do you see the role of a teacher?
    As a teacher, we should make ourselves superfluous. We have to teach students to become autodidacts. Asking questions rather than giving solutions is the key. I always want to help students to find their own voices, to master the instrument with lots of love, understanding and respect for it, and without being rough to it, despising it, or being afraid of it. Let the flute sound; don’t make it sound. In teaching, I try to see who the student is, what his or her possibilities, sensitivities, language, and mood are, and from there try to wake up curiosity. I deem myself very lucky that as a traverso player, I have had no teacher. I had the incredible luck as a boy of 18 to get a wonderful original mid-18th century flute by the Brussels maker, Godefroy Adrien Rottenburgh. Such a splendid instrument tells you how to play, or maybe rather how not to play it. If you try to force it, for instance, it gently tells you, please don’t. It was the best teacher I ever had. Without a real teacher, I had to find out for myself what worked, master the instrument, search for repertoire, and discover my voice. I had to teach myself, based on the instructions that the instruments themselves and the accompanying treatises (not only for flute) could give me. I also had to digest the many bits and pieces of information that come from the music itself and from the wider context. This was a slow way to learn, certainly. I had to make all mistakes by myself, and eventually find out that and why they were mistakes. In this way, however, your choices are not polluted by the experiences or theories of a teacher who would tell you which way to go or not to go.
    I have hoped to find and tried to provoke a similar attitude in my students. I have absolutely no pretention of leading anyone in the only right way. I don’t feel like a kind of missionary flutist who has to spread the good word. I can only say what I have to say, starting from my own experience and my artistic integrity. If somebody does not want to listen, that is ok. Any student’s arguments are as good as mine – that is, if they are solid, well-documented, and well-developed. Let students read, listen, study, and think for themselves. Let them shape their own imagination. If you don’t want to fossilize, you have to continue learning on your own.

How has the field of Early Music changed over your lifetime and what direction do you think that it might take next?
    If I would have a wish for future change, it would be that more people would stay curious or become curious again, and not base themselves too much on the results of previous generations. When I started to be seriously active in Early Music, the quality of the instruments was not as good as today. The technical level of performance is also much more polished than it used to be. There was not so much information available yet. There were maybe three or four flute treatises that you could find and buy a copy of. Now there are probably 400 available (also thanks to the Internet). There is so much available that, unfortunately, many people become discouraged and do not even start searching.
    I would be the first person to say that I have no idea how the Baroque flute should be played. I have my ideas, based on how I have digested the information that I could find, but I am quite certain that I would be very much astonished if I could hear the sound and style of Hotteterre, Blavet, Quantz, Devienne, Nicholson, Fürstenau, Boehm or even Taffanel. I am totally aware of the fact that I will never play like Bach played and that I cannot really know how he played, but that does not mean that I can’t try to move into his direction, rather than further away from him. In other words, the path is more interesting than the goal.
    Historical recordings document how flute playing has changed over the past 100 years. For the more remote past, we have to extrapolate and reconstruct sound from artifacts such as instruments, compositions, books, and paintings. For me, exactly that kind of questioning curiosity is the important drive behind all of it. Ignoring questions is not an option, and searching became second nature. When you start searching, you never know what you are going to find. It might be quite different from what you sought or thought you might find. It’s a nice adventure.

 


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What are your thoughts on conducting?
    I feel incredibly lucky that I have been asked to conduct many projects over the last 25-30 years. I have great pleasure in doing it, but I am not so ambitious as to declare myself a conductor. I would say that I am a musician. In the end, it is all very much the same. When you play a piece of music on the flute, you have to know what you want and use your flute as your medium. With an orchestra I must also try to get the sound I had imagined in my mind. Just as I need to respect the character of the flute that I am playing, I have to respect the qualities and individualities of the players in an orchestra.
    I have been working together with the Indianapolis Baroque Orchestra as conductor and artistic director for quite a number of years. A few years ago, the idea came to make a series of recordings with the orchestra. For many years, I had the desire to realize an idea I had about the orchestral music of Lully and his followers. I always felt so strange when I looked at Lully’s instrumental music or heard recordings of it. The music seemed so simple, empty, and even a bit drab. It didn’t make sense to me that this kind of music took Europe by storm to the point that every prince in Germany, England, and even some in Italy wanted to have played it at his court.
We are lucky that one of Lully’s students, Georg Muffat, explained in great detail just how this music should be played, which bowings should be taken, how the rhythms should be read, and which ornaments must be added even if unwritten. We find the same ornamentation in the splendid harpsichord arrangement of the Passacaille in Lully’s opera Armide; the transcriber is d’Anglebert, a younger contemporary of Lully’s. In fact, in Lully’s or Muffat’s time, any well-trained professional musician would have known where and how to add ornaments in his part; it was not necessary to notate them.
    As this tradition is mostly lost today, I decided to add that whole layer of articulation and ornamentation in each section of the orchestra. Hearing the results, it became obvious to me why everyone was so enthusiastic about Lully’s music. After making two CD recordings in this way (the second is to be released this summer or autumn), it is absolutely clear to me that we are on a very good track.

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