January 2012 Archives - The Instrumentalist

Chicago Flute Fair

theinstrumenta — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 01:30:59 +0000

The Chicago Flute Club kicked off its biennial Flute Fair The Unconventional Flute with a banquet Friday evening, November 11, 2011 at the Hotel Orrington in Evanston, Illinois. The dinner honored Life-Time Achievement recipients Bickford Brannen and Mary Louise Poor.

Bickford Brannen, instrument maker, partnered with Albert Cooper to produce a modern flute with an improved scale that was easier to play. His innovations were adopted by nearly every flute company on everything from student models to professional. He is currently collaborating with Eva Kingma on a flute that has a quarter-tone scale.

Mary Louise Poor, who previously taught in the Chicago area, has had a long and varied flute career encompassing performing, teaching, writing, and working with health-related issues of flute players. A group of her former students serenaded her with a flute choir performance.

Other events during the festival included exhibits, a concert by the Chicago Flute Orchestra, conducted by Shaul Ben-Meir; workshops by Keith Underwood, Angeleita Floyd, and Patricia George; and performances by Seven Degrees Flute Quartet, Quad City Flute Unlimited, Erie Waters Flute Ensemble, Jim Walker and Free Flight, Lakeside flutes, and the Central Michigan University Flute Choir. Several student competitions were held. Winners of the competitions were:

Senior Division Winners

1st Place: Melody Chua

2nd Place: Severin DuSell

3rd Place: Gina Jung

Honorable Mention – Sarah Otmanski

Junior Division Winners

1st Place: Gabriela Nisly

2nd Place: Allison Milligan

3rd Place: Aydan Hensley

Honorable Mention: Joelle Schreiber

Elementary Division Winners

1st Place: Jennifer Yu Wang

2nd Place: Natalia Kozintseva

Honorable Mention: Sophi Fournier

Runner up: Victoria Murphy

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Elgar Minuet

theinstrumenta — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 00:28:17 +0000

from "The Wand of Youth Suite No. 1 by Edward Elgar, trans. by John Gibson

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New Music from Australia

theinstrumenta — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 00:13:29 +0000

The piccolo is as popular in Australia as in the United States. On recent visits to Australia, I found worthy additions to the piccolo repertoire by five contemporary composers.

My first stop was at the Australian Music Center in the historic Rocks section of Sydney. Unlike the typical music store in the U.S. where you may freely peruse the shelves, the customer instead browses a database on a computer and submits a request for a piece of music. Since multiple copies of the music are not kept in stock at the Center, one is printed and mailed to you several days later or you may return to pick it up.

The second stop was at the biannual Australian Flute Festival in Canberra. The two main dealers of music exhibiting were the Australian Music Center and Flutes and Flutists (both based in Sydney) along with several self-published composers.

Pesky Piccolo

Eric Gross (1926-2011) was an Austrian-Australian pianist and prolific composer who studied at Trinity College and the University of Aberdeen. His credentials range from studio pianist for the BBC, teaching at the Sydney Conservatorium at the University of Sydney, ﬁlm score writer, and conductor. Pesky Piccolo was written in 2002 for piccolo and piano; Gross brings out the playful character of the piccolo in this three-minute gem while keeping the range of this piece primarily in the lower two-octaves. He uses contemporary harmonies while keeping the piece melodic and pleasing to hear. While suitable for intermediate players, this piece works well on any recital.

Raft Song at Sunrise and Ulpirra

Ross Edwards (b. 1943) is one of Australia’s most noted composers. His music reflects Australia’s cultural diversity, natural beauty, and a belief in the healing power of music. His composition Dawn Mantras ushered in the 21st century from the sails of the Sydney Opera House.

Raft Song at Sunrise (1995) was actually written for solo shakuhachi but works well as a solo piccolo piece. This contemplative piece was written for Riley Lee to perform at an art exhibit. It is suitable for intermediate players even though it contains wide dynamic contrasts. Ulpirra (1993) for solo piccolo is dance-like in character and joyful in spirit. Recently Edwards has transposed this piece for other members of the flute family. Ulpirra and Raft Song at Sunrise would work well together on a recital.

Sketch

Michal Rosiak (b. 1977) is a graduate of the Academy of Music in Katow, Poland and is a flutist with the Australian Army Band in Brisbane and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. He has written and arranged compositions for woodwind and string ensembles and has won several prizes for his compositions including the International Festival for Young Musicians in Belgium, the Polish Contest for Chamber Music, and the Polish National Contest for Young Composers. Sketch for piccolo and piano (2009) is a short, sprightly scherzo which brings out the playful nature of the piccolo.

Perelandra

Michael Sollis (b. 1985), a nationally renowned composer, researcher, artistic director, and educator, is based in Canberra, Australia’s national capital. He was a student of Larry Sitsky and Jim Cotter while he was a student at the Australian National University. He currently teaches composition at the school and is composer-in-residence for Voices of Australia and Music for Everyone. A strong advocate for contemporary music at all levels of performance; he founded the Sound ACT (Australian Capital Territory) program in 2005, which brought contemporary composition into the schools.

Perelandra (2010) is a 20-minute concerto, written for his flutist wife, Kiri. The piece was inspired by the C.S. Lewis novel of the same name and is available with piano reduction as well as with string orchestra and a mixed ensemble of bass clarinet, horn, harp and vibraphone. Each of the four movements contains a quote from the Lewis book to set the mood. The first movement, The Floating Island, is depicted by rolling 32nd note runs in the piccolo part and 16th note arpeggiated triplets in the accompaniment. The second movement Ransom, it said again depicts the persistent, menacing voice calling Ransom’s name over and over again. The haunting mood is created with extended techniques such as lip glissandos and unfocused flutter tonguing. The third movement, The Chase, was the final round competition selection for the 2011 Piccolo Artist Competition held at the Australian Flute Festival in Canberra. The final movement, Inside the Mountain, depicts the gods bowing to the young Lilliputian King and Queen in a valley filled with a magical light. A performance of this piece may be found on You Tube.

Eliza’s Aria

Elena Katz-Chernin (b. 1957) is originally from Tashkent, now the capitol of Uzbekistan, but immigrated to Australia in 1975. While in Europe she wrote for state theaters in Berlin, Vienna, Hamburg and Bochum. Since 1994 she has written four operas, two piano concertos, silent film tracks, and compositions for Australian ensembles such as the Bang on a Can All-Stars, the Australian Chamber Orchestra, and the Sydney Symphony. Her music was featured at the opening ceremonies of the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games and the 2003 Rugby World Cup. Eliza’s Aria (2009) is based on her original score for the ballet Wild Swans, choreographed by Meryl Tankard. Written mostly in the low and middle registers, this charming, cut-time piece has a forward moving lilt that makes listeners smile.

While the world seems to get smaller every day, there are still musical treasures for the piccolo to be found. For more information about the piccolo compositions by Gross, Edwards, Sollis, and Katz-Chermin go to and for Rosicak .

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New Year’s Resolutions

theinstrumenta — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 23:59:36 +0000

The New Year traditionally brings an opportunity to reflect and make plans to change for the better. Why not also resolve to enhance and re-energize your flute lessons? Contrary to what you might think, great students do not have to be the best players. Show great effort and a curious and enthusiastic attitude and lessons will be more enjoyable for both student and teacher.

Attend Concerts

Flute recitals, chamber music, and symphonic concerts give you a chance to see and hear other flutists and musicians perform in a variety of styles and contexts. This exposure is invaluable; musicians learn so much from listening and watching others. A live performance offers lessons in performance etiquette and stage presence that are not captured in a YouTube video.

Listen to Recordings

Recordings are also essential to your development as a musician. The more you listen to good players, the more details and ideas you will develop for your own playing. Listen to good recordings regularly to discover new repertoire or enhance your understanding of current pieces. There are many opportunities for finding flute recordings in addition to purchasing CDs or individual tracks. Check a public or school library, visit artists’ webpages, and bookmark the online Flute Radio at .

For current pieces, listen to several recordings while watching the score. If the composition is for flute and piano, listen carefully to the piano part to hear how it fits with the flute part. Mark piano cues in the flute part.

Check tempos of each recording with a metronome and make notes in the part. It is also helpful to compare phrasing ideas from one performer to the next. Listen for the dynamic contrasts, use of rubato or acceleration, articulation marks, and vibrato usage. Become familiar with different performers’ interpretations. Play along with a recording to get a sense of flow.

Participate

Attend flute masterclasses, workshops, and summer music festivals. Check the sections on and . Check with your instructor, local university, and nearby flute club for opportunities to enhance your musical education. Become an active member of your local flute club to keep informed about flute events in your area. Many flute clubs provide member’s only events and competitions.

Perform Often

Music is a performance art, one which is meant to be shared with others. Performance provides a chance to express yourself musically and creatively, and demonstrate the skills learned. It also helps develop poise and confidence and creates a sense of accomplishment. If you learn to play well while nervous or under pressure, you become an even better player under normal circumstances. It takes repeated practice to control nervous tendencies including rushing or not using enough air. There are many community and religious organizations who would gratefully appreciate your musical gifts.

Practice with a Goal

Practice regularly at home without being prodded or coerced and set daily goals. Practice sessions offer great opportunities for self-discovery and to challenge yourself mentally and physically. Make this time as efficient and effective as possible. Use a metronome and tuner wisely. Take notes during lessons and practice sessions. Write down questions that pop up while you practice. In a practice log, list what you practiced, for how long, and what specific goal you tried to achieve. Always know what the assigned lesson material is and come to lessons prepared to play your best.

Join an Ensemble

Participation in a flute choir, band, orchestra, or chamber ensemble will help hone rhythm, intonation, technical and musicianship skills. Each type of ensemble offers exposure to different repertoire, performance techniques, and the leadership from other music educators, which will mold you into a well-rounded musician.

Research

Become a flute scholar. Research each piece and its composer, discovering the musical era in which the piece was written, important facts about the composer, why they composed the piece, the circumstances surrounding the first performance, and what else occurred historically at the time. Look up all terms and symbols to better understand the music and interpret the composer’s intentions. Visit such sites as and for help and additional information.

Develop Your Ear

There are computer programs or online sites that offer excellent resources to develop your ear, music theory skills, and improvisational technique. Two sites to start with are: and

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Smart Practice

theinstrumenta — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 23:50:14 +0000

Flutists like everyone else wage a battle with time. With the turn of the New Year, resolutions are made, “I will practice every day. I will play scales and long tones. I will learn all the Andersen Etudes. I will memorize the Mozart Concerti. Etc, etc, etc.” Let’s be realistic. Are you really going to have more time this month to practice than last? Probably not. So, the resolution should be, “I am going to practice smarter.”

Smarter practice means you creatively organize practice sessions, plucking minutes here and there throughout the day, and when busy, select only the essential exercises to keep your playing in tiptop shape (maintenance practice).

Relax and Separate Vocal Folds

Relaxation is a key to great playing. Whether you practice yoga, swimming, karate, or just deep breathing, learn to relax quickly. Sometimes just turning off the lights and reclining on the floor for a few minutes will rejuvenate you for a good practice session. Short naps of 20 to 30 minutes are quite beneficial.

The goal when playing is to have the vocal folds separated on the intake and exhale of air. Pant quickly several times to experience what it feels like to have the vocal folds separated. Play exercises or repertoire in a one-inch chunk of notes followed by a rest. The breathing used when chunking is a slower version of panting. If the entire practice session is based upon panting and chunking, your tone will be open and free. This will make you sound and feel great when performing.

Headjoint

I do not know why exploring and practicing on the headjoint has been omitted from the flute pedagogical curriculum for so long. Other woodwind players spend hours refining their reed-making skills. If you ask any good oboist why he shaves some here and some there, he knows the answer. It may be to make the response of the reed better, improve intonation, or produce a more elegant timbre. However, flutists spend very little time exploring the headjoint. Many flutists do not even know where the sweet spot is in their headjoint or if their headjoint predominantly has a quicker response versus a wide palette of colors. Time spent on the headjoint can answer these questions. And as a bonus, the headjoint is much lighter than the entire flute, so it is less tiring to practice with the headjoint alone than balancing the entire flute in your hands.

Maintenance Exercises

There are four areas of concentration to practice regularly on the headjoint: moving the air, articulation, vibrato, and embouchure flexibility. These quick exercises require only ten to twelve minutes of time, but produce the results similar to what is achieved after several hours of traditional practice. When practicing these exercises, hold each end of the headjoint with your thumb and index fingers. Keep all fingers away from the embouchure hole area.

1. Moving the Air (1 Minute)

Begin by playing a perfectly shaped note on the headjoint. It should have a clean attack (Thi). The air is fast at the beginning of the note, and the vibrato initiates with the attack. Use a tuner to check the duration or length of the note. If while blowing, you can keep the needle of the tuner still, the air is even. If the needle wiggles, concentrate on making the air speed even. Even air is a novel and useful concept for flutists.

Taper the end of the note slightly by making the aperture in the lips smaller while continuing to exhale the air. After a few notes hold the headjoint with the left thumb and index finger only. With your right hand, find the air stream of the spent air. Where you place the right hand will vary from one headjoint to the next because of the upper and undercutting of the embouchure hole. The air stream should be strong and the air moist. Experiment by blowing with a stronger column of air. Increased air speed often improves the overall tone quality. Air speed and the angle of the air are two important concepts to explore.

2. Articulation (4 Minutes)

For the first two minutes, practice articulation in chunks. For example, play one beat of any rhythm, followed by one beat of rest. For this exercise, alternate playing and resting. Use the following articulation strokes: Thi, Key, TK or TKT. Practice in both the lower and upper octaves (end of headjoint is open).

For the last two minutes, practice the “minute of tonguing” exercise. On the upper note, tongue four 16ths per beat for eight counts, followed by two counts of rest. Repeat this exercise eight times. In total, you will have tongued for over a minute. Use a metronome to increase the speed from day to day.

3. Vibrato (3 Minutes)

For the first minute play three breath attack notes followed by a rest (HAH, HAH, HAH, rest). Repeat this several times. Be sure there is no movement in the abdomen. Once each note is staccato and the same length, play one group of notes staccato and the next group slurred. Vibrato is produced in the vocal folds by slurring the breath attacks. Once again the body should be quiet. If there is movement in the abdomen, try playing the exercise pianissimo.

For the next two minutes play two, three, four, five or six counted vibrato on the lower note on the headjoint slurring to the same number of vibratos on the upper note. The lower note will be a flat A and the upper note will be a flatter A. Listen carefully to make the slur smooth and clean.

4. Embouchure Flexibility (3 minutes)

Stop the end of the headjoint with the palm of your right hand. In this position you will be able to produce three pitches (A4, E6 and C#7). Slur up and down these three pitches with two, three, four, five, or six vibrato per note. Work to achieve flexibility and ease when slurring. Think about the size of the aperture and the speed and angle of the air. Each flute will respond differently. The goal is to discover what works best on your headjoint.

5. Watch TV

If you find you are really stressed out, watch a thirty-minute television show that makes you laugh. Laughter is excellent for rejuvenating yourself after a tiring day. During each set of commercials, play the above exercises. Typically a thirty-minute show has eleven minutes of commercials so you will easily be able to complete this sequence of exercises and have a good time too. If this is all the time available to practice each day, you will not learn any new repertoire, but you will keep your basic skills at a high level.

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Audition Preparation

theinstrumenta — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 23:42:49 +0000

Auditions are a fact of life for musicians from young players auditioning for school or youth orchestras to adults applying for a university professorship or orchestra position. Every flutist must make peace with this prickly process. I have been through the orchestra audition maze many times. The process can be difficult and competitive, but with a positive approach you can be successful and become a better player too.

The professional orchestra audition system in particular is a negative experience for many flutists because there is so much competition for positions. Auditions are intended to be a meritocracy, but are often flawed in execution. Orchestras publish lengthy lists of required repertoire and applicants usually submit a pre-screening recording to be invited to the audition. If admitted to the audition, the flutist is often thrown together with the other players to warm up in a room like gladiators awaiting battle in the arena. An attempt at impartiality is made in the initial rounds by using a screen. When the screen is removed, all bets are off, and the process can become very unpredictable, especially if there is no clear winner in the final rounds.

Preliminary rounds can be brief, lasting several minutes, and a single error can send a flutist straight back to the airport. In the final rounds musicians are often dismissed without explanation. Sometimes the music director holds the trump card and can negate the findings of previous rounds. Once a player is selected, there is still no guarantee he will actually end up with the position.

This is at the very least a test of one’s fundamental abilities and can resemble trial by fire. The process has become so complex and challenging that taking a professional orchestra audition is now a specialized area of study. Students should develop their audition skills and methods of preparation at the earliest opportunity. Players who dislike auditions rarely win them. For most, auditioning is an acquired taste, but it is possible to enjoy it.

Stay Positive

Your psychological view of the experience is one of the most important aspects of preparation. Try to stay positive no matter what happens. Auditions have a negative potential which can turn against you like a bad lunch. For example, consider your attitude towards the competition. In Desiderata, a famous prose poem written in 1927, the author Max Ehrmann, says, “Do not compare yourself to others or you may become vain and bitter for there always will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.” This is easier said than done. Think of the audition as a spirited competition among able candidates. Respect your competitors, but do not think about them too much. I have done best when I compete with myself.

Negative thoughts will undermine your self-confidence. It is natural to experience performance anxiety and fear of failure. If this happens, sit still and concentrate fully on a positive message. “I have a right to be here. I am prepared. I am happy to have this opportunity and will do my best.” Breathe slowly and deeply. If you hear others playing excerpts, try to ignore them. Remember that almost everyone sounds great through a wall, and keep a set of earplugs handy.

Practicing

Plan your preparation thoughtfully and in a way that builds confidence. Just practicing eight hours a day will not help and may result in injury. Develop a heightened sense of self-evaluation, but balance that with positive thoughts. When you play something well, acknowledge it. Ask an experienced player or teacher for help and encouragement. Positive visualization is a powerful technique. Use the power of the mind to see a good outcome to the experience. Remember the overall goal is not to win one audition but to become a better musician. This attitude is what will eventually put you on top.

Good preparation also takes time. Preparing for a big audition is like building a house. A month or more may be necessary for a long excerpt list. Allow some days off to avoid burnout and lay the groundwork with adequate sleep and a good diet. Now is not the time for major changes in your life.

Fundamentals

Pay special attention to fundamentals; warm up patiently and efficiently. Learn to quickly find a beautiful tone and ease of technique. Focus on posture, breathing and relaxation. One of the best ways to hear yourself objectively is with an audio recorder. Start by recording simple examples. Then listen carefully and make a list of disagreeable aspects. Attack those nasty areas individually and patiently by applying knowledge of fundamentals. Equally important is to make a list of things you like. Learn to clearly define your likes and dislikes.

Use your imagination. Figure out your ideal version of the passage and develop this through experimentation and listening to other recordings of the piece. I like to imagine what the passage would sound like if Ransom Wilson played it, or Moyse, or the pianist Uchida for example, and try to copy it. I used to listen to recordings of Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra so much that I still imitate Maurice Sharp’s sound in some passages. There is nothing wrong with being inspired by someone else’s sound and style, if you make it your own.

Adam Kuenzel, principal flutist of the Minnesota Orchestra once said, “To win an audition you must be able to play perfectly for ten minutes.” What is your version of perfect? Personally I believe that the right notes have to be played and fundamentals should be proper, but beyond that I focus more on beauty than perfection. Train yourself to notice the big picture and all the details simultaneously. By learning to hear all aspects of your playing at once, you can create a notion of beauty and perfection. This is what makes you unique as a player. Hopefully the committee will agree with your vision.

The Concerto

A concerto or solo piece is usually the first thing on the audition, and it is a chance to play like a great soloist. Work patiently on each passage for technical and tonal security, then concentrate on the big picture. Imagine yourself in front of a great orchestra projecting the sound to the last row of the audience. Perhaps you should work on a bigger tone or more emotional contrast. Do not lose sight of the basics in the quest to sound like the next Galway. Pay attention to proper fundamentals, especially with tone production, intonation and rhythm. Many players become accustomed to hearing themselves in the vacuum of the practice room if they do not perform frequently. Play in a variety of larger spaces to keep perspective on your solo playing.

Excerpts

Next, focus on the list of orchestral excerpts. First listen to a recording of the whole piece even if you think you know it. Enjoy and rediscover the beauty of the music to define the role of the excerpt within the entire work. Make the passage an example of your skills without losing perspective of this larger role. This miniature should be exquisite in detail and color like a Vermeer painting: somehow accurate and spiritual at the same time. Each excerpt has a special individual identity which you should discover and bring to life. (See , November, page 18 for more on excerpts.)

Resist picking up the flute and look at the music separately. Notice every detail and think about what the markings mean and why they are there. If something is confusing, find a good score or knowledgeable person to ask.

When you begin to practice the excerpt, work on each element, vibrato, rhythm, phrasing and articulation, independently. Be organized in the approach. Start by playing the notes accurately and easily. Only move on to other areas of focus after you achieve this. There are many ways to practice technical passages, but repeating small sections very slowly works. Stay relaxed and do not be in a hurry to increase tempo. If you take breaks to give the brain and body time to assimilate the material, faster playing comes more easily.

Rhythm is the police department of the orchestra and should be respected. Audition committees are drawn to good rhythm like bees to blossoms. This includes accuracy of pulse and subdivision. Play with a metronome and record yourself repeatedly until you can execute even the most expressive excerpts without deviating from the pulse. Play exactly with the metronome. Then record the passage without it to see if the rhythm is accurate. Tap along as you listen to the playback to see if there are weak spots. Do not worry about playing expressively at this point in the preparation. The metronome is your friend, but do not become dependent on it or you will feel lost when it is not clicking away. Turn it off immediately after the exercise. Remember to think about tempo before playing instead of after.

The overall goal with rhythm is twofold: to become more sensitive to rhythm while playing so that your use of rhythmic freedom is subtle and effective, and to be able to play very accurately when needed. Rhythmic precision does not imprison expression but enhances and focuses it. Learn to play expressively, but in rhythm, especially for orchestra auditions.

Apply the same attention to other areas such as tonal focus, vibrato, dynamics, and intonation. It never hurts to go back to basics and focus on a specific fundamental area if you find a weakness. Make sure you have a firm grasp of the harmonic context of the excerpt, which is a crucial element in achieving an authoritative delivery.

Controlled contrasts are the meat and potatoes of great playing. Use the recorder to check if contrasts really occur. Sometimes we hear only what we want to hear. The player who wins an audition is often the one whose skills are consistent throughout the repertoire, rather than the one who has a few outrageous strengths. It is good if you can play really fast or loud, for example, but focus those skills appropriately. Do not play technical excerpts faster than appropriate just because you can.

Final Preparation

At an audition we are like students who must turn in all their homework at once. With a big list of material this can be tough. Once you find what works for an excerpt, practice it the same way each day for efficiency. Gradually you should be able to play more of the excerpts one after the other. Take time between excerpts and avoid playing them in the same order each day.

Next record the excerpts. Listen to each element. Check whether the rhythm is still accurate after adding expressive nuances. Notice if you distort the intonation at certain dynamics. You should also be able to reproduce a favorite version several times. This really pays off on audition day because it builds confidence and consistency. In addition, when more of your intentions are automatic in basic areas, you are free to be spontaneous in poetic areas.

Get out of the practice room and perform often for others. Your Mom might love to hear you play, but you really should play the excerpts for people who make you nervous. Put together a mock audition and ask friends, colleagues, or a teacher to be the jury – remember to buy them lunch first.

When you perform, it is time to stop thinking so much. Careful prepration allows more aspects to occur on the subconscious level, so you can just have fun playing. This letting go is crucial especially after so much detail work. Personally I find the audition environment liberating, much like performing a piece for solo flute.

Tutti Passages

At some auditions you may be asked to play tutti passages that can be harder than the solo excerpts. When you can play the entire flute part, an audition committee sees that you are not only good at taking auditions, but more importantly are the best qualified to hold the position. For professional auditions, take the time to learn other challenging passages in the repertoire that are not on the audition list. To improve sightreading skills, play through duets with a friend.

The Journey Inward

This degree of focus may seem obsessive, but to me it represents a journey towards your true musical self. If you get there, suddenly it does not matter where or for whom you are playing. You stop thinking of the committee as an audience and just forget about them. This degree of focus can help those who are distracted by the screen at auditions. Other distractions can take a toll too. Even with the rules governing auditions, conditions can be highly variable and sometimes just traveling to the audition is an ordeal. Prepare for the worst and stay cool.

Not Winning

Unfortunately, losing auditions is part of the process. This is emotionally very difficult and reasons for not getting the job can be elusive. Occasionally things do happen which seem genuinely unfair, but never give up and keep improving your playing. If you can obtain some feedback from an audition, evaluate it dispassionately to see if it has merit. More than likely, you have not solved a playing problem. Objectivity is the key. Sometimes you have to look past your playing, to find the root of your difficulties. Maybe lack of confidence is producing tension which undermines your efforts for a big sound.

If you have taken many auditions without success, then it means that many qualified listeners think there is something wrong with your playing. Seek the advice of someone who will tell you the truth even if it may feel like a visit to the dentist. There are quite a few examples of great players who lost many auditions before finally winning the big one.

It could be that you have not found the right situation. This happens when a committee has a general notion of the kind of player they want, and it is not your type of playing. You have no way of knowing this, so don’t worry about it. Think about it this way, if you are hired by an orchestra which is not a good fit, you will not be comfortable there. Keep at it until it is your time. Remember that if you sound terrific, you will eventually get a job.

If you advance, it is a victory, but do not start celebrating yet. Success in the initial rounds of an audition does not mean you will get the job. The music director is not usually brought into the process until late in the audition, and he is the boss. If he likes your playing, you may win, but if not, it will almost never happen. Keep adjusting expectations downward.

Another aspect of the real world is that auditions are not always based solely on how you play that day. If the screen is removed later in the audition, it does not hurt to be known to the committee and conductor. One way to advance a career is to do well in some big auditions even if you do not win. Word travels fast. This can lead to substitute work, which is a great way to get experience and become known to conductors and a wider network of players. The hardest orchestra audition to win is the first one.

After a couple of practice auditions, you are wasting time and money to audition just for experience. Avoid becoming a professional audition-taker. Only audition for a job you really want.

In every audition, try to find something positive to take from it. “What did I learn?” is the best question. Examine everything you did, and determine what needs improvement. Despite its many flaws, the audition process can be an invaluable opportunity to become a better musician. Do not be a flutist who plays the music, be a musician who plays the flute.

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Lessons with William Kincaid: The Early Years at Curtis

theinstrumenta — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 23:36:09 +0000

I can remember easily my audition with William Kincaid. The common room had never seemed so dark and elegant – then up the stairs after a nervous wait sitting on the edge of a comfortable upholstered chair. I entered a paneled room with a music stand in the middle and a white-haired florid-cheeked man I was almost afraid to look at. I did, and he made a terrifying situation almost comfortable.

For the first two years my lessons had a very stable pattern. There were steadying whistle tones, and then the Maquarre Daily Exercises. These were memorized, and I still play them for comfort. I have a notebook I made for my first year: scales in three octaves which seem based on Taffanel & Gaubert. I can’t remember if I had something to copy or if they were dictated to me. The scales and Praeludium dominant 7th exercises were dated October 5. (Curtis started rather late in the fall to correspond with the Philadelphia Orchestra Season.) Thirds and sixths exercises are dated October 12. The pattern covers three octaves. (See Patricia George’s Free Downloads for and )

On October 19 I began a pattern of diminished, minor, and major triads. For October 26 I have written out the Praeludium dominant 7th exercise with dynamics. The final note begins forte, and there is a diminuendo for ten beats. My notes say the following: “From forte to pianissimo, pucker slightly so to allow the air speed to remain constant and keep pitch from falling. Relax corners of mouth to pucker – relax more than seems possible.”

November 2, I have written, “Learn the two whole tone scales in thirds and sixths – it doesn’t pay to practice excessively with a weak lip.” I practiced myself into a corner on several occasions. Kincaid always calmly talked me down. I’ve never known such patience in a teacher.

But not always. One lesson I remember he hadn’t finished with the student scheduled before me. This didn’t usually happen. They were working on the ending of a movement in a Bach sonata. The student couldn’t seem to get the ritard right. He would play it too slow or too fast. I wanted to help, but I knew I had better pretend to be invisible. They went on for another ten minutes, Kincaid’s exasperation increasing with the student’s inability to get the point. Finally, the student was excused, packed up and left. Kincaid seemed to notice me for the first time. “It’s not always easy,” he said.

On November 9 I had written a B major triad in the third octave with a note to play the high F# with the middle finger or “use regular F# and press down both trill keys for high B.”

“Practice this interval (Eb6 to Ab6)) with nothing in between – play flautando.” Flautando was a word I heard a lot. He almost always used it when he thought I was working too hard at the sound. When in doubt, try to sound like a flute. Under that same November 9 date, I have written “Learn Maquarre No. 2.” Kincaid surprised me in a lesson by asking me to play whole tone scales in thirds. I did better than I expected.

April 15 entry, “Vibrato should be within sound – (will come naturally?) not like this” with two drawings, the first with squiggly lines representing the vibrato inside two parallel lines, and then for the example to be avoided, the squiggly lines exceeding the boundary of the parallel lines.

April 22: “Vibrato can be controlled by keeping open throat, and I think a larger sound will result.”

July 17: “Air column from diaphragm has two points of control – at bottom and at the lips. Low register can be made to speak by using more air from the diaphragm rather than tightening the throat.”

Obviously I became interested in vibrato issues that spring. I certainly wasn’t having lessons in July. I spent that summer as a counselor at a music camp in upstate New York, a job Kincaid suggested to me. I think Kincaid’s position on vibrato can be summed up in the phrase I put in parentheses and then added a question mark to: (will come naturally). He wanted me to stop worrying about it.

In student recitals I played the Benedetto Marcello Sonata in F that I had played along with Kincaid’s recording back in the days before Curtis. On that same recital I also played the Prokofiev Flute Sonata and could hear the director of the school Efrem Zimbalist (who was quite deaf) saying loudly from the balcony that he did not like modern music. For my graduating recital I played the Bach B minor Suite with the student orchestra. Did William Smith conduct? I can’t recall, but I do know that a cellist who had missed our rehearsal plowed through spots in the Polonaise where he was supposed to pause for me to breathe. Then I played the Ibert Concerto with a pianist who was the real star of the show, covering all of the notes in the piano reduction.

In our first year Kincaid conducted the wind class where we played quintets and larger ensembles in a genteel atmosphere. When Kincaid began having health problems, John de Lancie, principal oboe in the Philadelphia Orchestra, took over the class. De Lancie was to become the director of Curtis in later years.

John de Lancie took a long time tuning us. When it was my turn to play the A, he wanted me to play it softer. Again and again he had me play the tuning note until the quality and timber was just to his liking. Then he struck the tuning bar. I was a quarter tone flat! Sometimes we spent the whole class tuning. Tuning in lessons was more fun as I was allowed to play with a full tone. The idea was to play the A and make the tuning bar ring sympathetically.

I don’t have notes for the lessons which followed that first year. By that time, I was on track with the fundamentals his other students already understood. In those days, most of Kincaid’s students began taking lessons from John Krell, the piccolo player in the Philadelphia Orchestra and learned the “Kincaid fundamentals” from him. I didn’t have that opportunity, but I did take some lessons from him after I got out of the service and was playing in the Peninsula Music Festival in Door County, Wisconsin, where John had a summer home.

Early in my second year at Curtis, an event took place which caused a great deal of soul searching. I had been taking a creative writing class at the University of Pennsylvania and the teacher arranged for me to have a meeting with a visiting writer, the poet and playwright Archibald MacLeish. MacLeish told me he was impressed with my writing and suggested that the best training for a poet was a liberal education at a college like Harvard or Yale. Briefly, I considered transferring to Harvard, a school that had accepted me when I graduated from high school. I had a talk with Kincaid about the situation before one of my lessons. Kincaid told me that he had the greatest respect for poetry and for that art as a calling. Then he looked me in the eye and said he would like for me to stay at Curtis. I did, of course. There hasn’t been a more exciting time in my musical life since those years and I realized how much they meant to me even then. It was William Kincaid, as much as any of my writing teachers, however, who instilled the respect and admiration I have for the art and craft of poetry.

For example, I think Kincaid enjoyed exercising his vocabulary on me. When I played a passage in the low register which seemed tight and unsupported, he chided me for my lugubrious tone. When I came back from a summer at Aspen for my third year at Curtis, I had been practicing many hours in the thin air at a considerable altitude. Kincaid immediately remarked that I should do something about my frank tone – he did not say I was playing too loud. Finally, when he wanted me to play an impressive diminuendo, he told me to imagine the sound as ever diminishing concentric circles, not dimming, but spinning away into nothingness.

The post Lessons with William Kincaid: The Early Years at Curtis appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

An Interview with Isabelle Chapuis

theinstrumenta — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 03:28:47 +0000

Isabelle Chapuis represents the French school of flute playing and teaching in the United States. Her early studies in Paris in the 1960s coincided with a golden age of the French flute. She was fortunate to study with many of the great flutists in Paris at a time when an historic change occurred in the French style of flute-playing. When she moved to the United States, she brought the ideas and styles of these master flutists with her.

In her long teaching career that began when she was 16 years old at l’Hôtel de Ville in Beaune, Chapuis has taught many flutists who have gone on to win major positions and competitions. The latest is 15-year-old Annie Wu who won first prize last August in the NFA High School Soloist Competition. She also won the prize for Best Performance of a Newly Commissioned Work (Three Beats for Beatbox Flute by Greg Pattillo).

How did you prepare Annie Wu for the NFA Competition in Charlotte?

When I first heard Annie play two years ago, I thought, “Here is a talent that is one in a million.” Technique has never posed problems for her, so we worked in depth on sound, vibrato, expression and style. We always work on Robert Stallman’s Flute Workout, Taffanel-Gaubert’s 17 Daily Exercises, Altès’ Études, 66 Pieces for Flute by J.S. Bach/Robert Stallman, and, of course, Moyse’s Tone Development Through Interpretation. I also gave her my copy of Audition Success by Don Greene.

Annie takes to major works like a duck to water. It is amazing in one so young that I can discuss all sorts of musical questions in very difficult pieces, and she understands right away. For the competition, we prepared the Dutilleux Sonatine, one of the most technically demanding pieces in the repertoire, and the Telemann Fantasy in D minor. With the Telemann, we worked on a pure sound, Baroque style (especially a clearly articulated staccato), and improvised ornaments.

Because this was a competition, we also worked on stage presence, visual contact with the audience, self-control of nerves, finding the right tempo under stress, and other matters related to performance in public. We studied the highly original Three Beats for Beatbox Flute by Greg Pattillo together. Pattillo has notated every sound, dynamic and note in the piece with the precision of a Boulez. So, for me, it was a question of solfège, of playing exactly what the composer wrote down. Annie made it swing. This piece took a lot of reading, rather than playing. We did the mouth and throat sounds alone and then the notes, alone. The singing was tricky, finding the right pitches while playing. Finally, we put all the skills together.

Crunelle’s Paris Conservatory class in 1969 with Chapuis in white, behind Crunelle.

How did your teachers influence your success as a flutist and teacher?

I began studying flute when I was 13 years old. Among my parents’ friends in Burgundy was the Debost family. Michel suggested that I take up the flute with a teacher in Dijon, Maryse Gauci, a delightful and enthusiastic woman (she was the wife of French composer Pierre Ancelin.) Maryse taught me the basics. I progressed quickly and a year later, Maryse passed me on to a renowned flutist in Paris, her former teacher, Gaston Crunelle.

In 1962 my mother, who was a pianist and composer (she had studied composition with Varese in New York), took me by train from Dijon to Paris for my first flute lesson with Crunelle. She continued to make the train trip, three hours each way, every week for many years. Crunelle, who was 64 years old at the time, had been professor of flute at the Paris Conservatory since 1941. During the same period, he was also principal flute of the Opéra comique in Paris. Most professional flutists in France had at one time passed through his teaching studio. His former pupils included Maxence Larrieu, Michel Debost, Jean-Pierre Rampal, and Jean-Louis Beaumadier.

Crunelle welcomed us into his beautiful apartment on Rue de Passy. He was charming and very Parisian in manner, not at all unlike the actors Maurice Chevalier and Jean Gabin. When not playing the flute, Crunelle could always be seen puffing away on his beloved Gauloises. He was elegantly dressed (especially his spiffy, shiny shoes) and quite distinguished looking, with white, flowing hair. I knew from my friends always to address him as maître. He was full of joie de vivre, telling one amusing anecdote after another. However, he continued to chain-smoke those foul-smelling French cigarettes. I can never forget breathing in the smell of Gauloises as I played my audition.

What did you play in your lessons with Crunelle?

Every lesson with Crunelle began with octaves and sons filés (long tones.) I never escaped the 17 Daily Exercises of Taffanel-Gaubert. Oh, that Exercise No. 4 – I had to play it from memory countless times with every articulation imaginable. Following that, I usually played a concert étude. As a technician, Crunelle was incomparable. Scales, études, detaché, virtuoso acrobatics, facilité and velocité were his forte. He was an exacting but amiable taskmaster with his students. He would never listen to excuses. You had to be prepared. Like all French music teachers, he stressed sightreading skills. No matter how difficult the piece, I could never stop. Wrong notes were okay; stopping or repeating a bar was not. He showed me how to pivot my foot inconspicuously while playing, like a conductor’s hand. Even when I made a rhythmic error, my foot kept track independently of the right place in the bar. He also showed me how to keep time with the big toe inside the shoe. Those lessons have stood me in good stead. Today, I have no anxiety sightreading anything put before me in an orchestra. In chamber music where there is no conductor, these tricks are especially valuable.

What repertoire did you work on with him?

I covered mostly 19th and early 20th century flute solos with piano, rather than the Great Works. My scores are still heavily marked with his red and blue pencils. These include pieces like the Gaubert Fantaisie, Casella Sicilienne et Burlesque, Huë Fantaisie, Sancan Sonatine, Chaminade Concertino, Enescu Cantabile e Presto, Tomasi Concerto, Busser Prelude et Scherzo, Fauré Fantaisie and the Sicilienne, Jolivet Chant de Linos, Messaien Le merle noir, Dutilleux Sonatine, Rivier Concerto, etc. There was no Bach, no Mozart (not even the concertos, which came later with Rampal.) Surprisingly, given Crunelle’s long tenure in the Orchestre de l’Opéra comique, there were no orchestral excerpts.

How would you describe his playing?

In addition to a virtuoso technique, Crunelle had a good sound, but it was not the grand, sensuous sound later made famous by some of his former students. He played with a fast vibrato and considerable intensity that was characteristic of flutists of his generation. His vibrato was not as pronounced as what is heard in some recordings by Marcel Moyse. Sonority was not a primary concern in my lessons with Crunelle (although perfect intonation undoubtedly was.) In terms of style, Crunelle was a key transitional figure in French flute playing, a bridge from the brilliant technique and bright silvery sound that was prominent in Paris before the war, toward a new, rich, colorful tone and light détaché that evolved in Paris during the 1950s.

By the 1960s, during the period in which I studied in Paris, this rich, colorful flute sound and light détaché had established itself as a new French school of flute playing, thanks to the artistry and teaching of a new generation of flutists. Flute students from all of France and from other countries flocked to Paris (and to the summer music academy in Nice) to absorb this new sensuous sound from a handful of masters and learn the secrets of its production.

This change in style of flute playing was not a question of good versus bad. It was more a question of the tastes of the times. To judge now from old recordings made before the War (and even some years after) many French flutists employed a fast, tight vibrato and produced a bright, silvery sound. Some notable examples were Marcel Moyse, René le Roy, Adolphe Hennebains and Fernand Caratgé. A prominent example of this style in the U.S. was John Wummer in the New York Philharmonic under Bernstein. In varying degrees, these flutists employed a fast vibrato that consisted mainly of variations of volume rather than pitch. Sometimes, it sounded quite expressive. In lesser hands, it often resembled the bleating of a goat.

What else did he teach you?

During lessons, Crunelle sang as much as he played his flute. Like all French music teachers, he sang in solfège. He used the Fixed Do solfège system and not the Moveable Do system that kindergarten teachers in the U. S. employ to teach nursery tunes to beginners. To this day, I solfège virtually everything I play. I learned Luciano Berio’s Sequenza in solfège before I first played it. I am a firm believer in the value of solfège. The system forces you to sight-sing exactly what is notated. No faking is possible. One must not say a solfège syllable while singing a different pitch. Solfège, in combination with musical dictation, trains one’s ear. It also aids musical memory. For reasons that I have never fully understood, I can still solfège from memory many pieces that I played when I was a student. There is yet another benefit to flutists from solfège: virtuosity of the tongue. In French conservatories, solfège is like a competitive sport. I can solfège Bach’s Badinerie at tempo; but I am not in the same category as virtuoso solfegers.

When did you study with Michel Debost?

I was 16 when I began lessons with Michel Debost. Up until then I had received lots of compliments for my playing, so I thought I knew it all. Walking into Debost’s studio for a lesson (in secret, I might add, since I could not tell Crunelle I was studying flute with anyone else), I hoped to impress Michel with a technically showy piece. He was not at all impressed. “You have talent and facilité,” he told me, “but you have the wrong conception of sound, especially vibrato. We must go back to the beginning: long tones, breath control, vibrato, and abdominal support. You have to learn what a flute should sound like. You have to learn how to sing through the flute.”

Debost opened my eyes and ears to an aspect of music I had never taken seriously before: la sonorité. It was only after years of working with him that I understood: tone color is the path to playing expressively.

In the 1950s and 60s, Debost was one of the key founders in Paris of a new French School of the Flute. Looking back on that time in Paris, I can see that it was an Age d’Or de la Flûte (Golden Age). Many of the greatest French flutists were active in the city, playing everywhere. When I began my studies with Debost, he was principal flute of the Orchestre de la Société des Concerts du Conservatoire, the most important orchestra in France. He was then 31. This was just prior to his selection by conductor Charles Munch to become principal flute of the newly formed Orchestre de Paris. Debost was already famous in Paris and had won five international flute competitions, including Geneva and Moscow.

Debost is not only a great flutist; he is also an intellectual. He has the ability to analyze and explain what many other flutists can only feel and play. In the 1960s in Paris, Debost, together with Jean-Pierre Rampal, Maxence Larrieu, Alain Marion, Roger Bourdin, Christian Lardé and others, were focused on expanding the sonority of the flute, adding more colors to its tonal palette, particularly in the performance of French Romantic, Impressionistic and early Modern works. Debost had the ability to describe in words the kind of open sound and varied tonal palette that they were all searching for. Moreover, he was able to explain the techniques he used to open the sound, control the slower vibrato, and create different colors and attacks in the flute’s three octaves.

I recall Debost asking my father, a dermatologist, many questions about human anatomy, particularly about the lungs, abdominal muscles, and the throat. He wanted to know everything about the breathing process and control over the diaphragm. He explained to me how he wanted to use the column of air to produce an open sound. It was through his teaching and guidance that I began to discover for myself the poetic and technical means to produce an open sound. I became fascinated with the flute’s tonal colors.

I also saw a humble side of Michel. He was already established as one of the foremost flutists in France; but even so, he still continued to study with Marcel Moyse. Debost took me with him to Moyse’s home in Saint Amour to observe his lessons. He said “one must always be open to new ideas.” He did not flinch at criticism from someone whom he respected. Moyse could be very prickly and unpredictable. He had a reputation as difficile.

How old was Moyse when you met him?

When I first visited Saint Amour, Moyse was 78. He lived in the same old, picturesque, modest house in France, near the Swiss border, in which he was born in 1889. Hundreds of pipes of every description were hung on a wall in his home. Moyse was a chain pipe-smoker, despite the fact he suffered from lung disease. Debost introduced me to Moyse, who immediately had a twinkle in his eye. He asked me if I wanted to take lessons with him, and I jumped at the chance.

I played for Moyse in a small dark bedroom. He smoked his pipe all the time, and the air was suffocating. He had some kind things to say about my playing. Then suddenly he began to sing passages from the pieces I had just played. When Moyse used words to express his thoughts, he would often use poetic metaphors. As he spoke, he would drift into an inspired trance – but mostly he sang. He emphasized phrasings that he wanted me to play. His face became illuminated, his voice quivered with emotion. “Il faut chanter, il faut chanter,” he would plead. When I managed to play a phrase the way he had indicated, a huge smile would spread across his face, and his eyes would light up. “Ah, ma petite Isabelle!” he said. He was even happier than I was. I continued working with Moyse on an irregular basis for several years, first at Saint Amour, and later at his masterclasses in Boswil, Switzerland. (In photo: from right to left Moyse, Debost, Chapuis, Mme. Moyse, and an unidentified flutist at Moyse’s home in Saint-Armour, France, 1966.)

How did you enter the Paris Conservatory?

There was a competitive audition for the few spots in the flute class that opened that year. I won a spot but almost did not make it into the conservatory. By sheer forgetfulness, I had neglected to turn in the inscription form. When I came across the paper among my flute pieces, the deadline had already passed. I was crushed, and Crunelle was livid. He made an appointment to see the Directeur du Conservatoire, Raymond Gallois-Montbrun and pleaded that the deadline be waived in my case.

In the 1960s, there was only one flute class for French students at the Paris Conservatory (there was another flute class for foreign students), and there was only one professor of flute at the Paris Conservatory: Maître Crunelle. My class was limited to 17 students. During my first year, I lived in a small apartment in the notorious Place Pigalle. It was a short walk to the Conservatoire on Rue de Madrid.

The historic Conservatoire no longer exists. In 1990 the socialist government moved the institution to a garish ultra-modern complex on the outskirts of Paris. It is now situated far from the center of Paris, in an immense, barren, cement-covered area, incongruously named Cité de la Musique. When I was a student, one of the greatest attractions of the Paris Conservatory was its relative proximity to all the concert halls, the Opéra, the music stores, the instrument makers and luthiers, the offices of music publishers and the impresarios.

What was it like to study flute at the Paris Conservatory in the 1960s?

The study of an instrument at the Paris Conservatory was very different from the study of an instrument at an American conservatory or university music department. At the Paris Conservatory I never had a private flute lesson. The French system is one of masterclasses. You are part of a class that stays together until you leave. Every piece you prepare is performed in front of your colleagues and teacher. Everyone hears (and benefits from) the comments directed at you by the teacher. There is no privacy in a masterclass. Your talent, skills, preparation, weaknesses, and deficiencies are an open book. You are trained to perform, to express openly and freely to others what you can do musically and in sum, to be a soloist.

Every aspect of study at the Paris Conservatory was based on competition. We did not have exams. We had concours. You had to compete to get in. You had to compete to stay in. You competed with the others in your class to establish your reputation. You had to compete to graduate, and you had to compete to win a Premier Prix; a prize that had concrete significance for the musical public in France. There was enormous peer pressure to push yourself to the maximum of your abilities. You always had to be prepared, because you knew all the others in the class were exceptionally gifted and were always prepared. The teachers were keenly aware of the intense competition and endeavored to make it healthy and constructive, rather than cutthroat. They fostered a spirit of camaraderie in each class.

In my first year we had flute repertoire class with Crunelle three times a week, each class lasting four hours. I also had chamber music class twice a week under the direction of oboist Pierre Pierlot and clarinetist Jacques Lancelot. Both of these teachers were among the finest woodwind players in France. There was a very difficult class in solfège, harmony and musical dictation, a class for which the Paris Conservatory is world-renown. In addition, I had rehearsals and concerts with the Orchestre symphonique du Conservatoire under conductor Manuel Rosenthal (a French George Szell who could pick out a wrong grace note in a presto.) We were expected to attend master classes of other instruments whenever we could squeeze them in our schedules.

At the end of my first year, Crunelle announced his retirement. It was not entirely unexpected. Among the flute students, there was enormous excitement and speculation about who would be appointed to succeed him. We discussed every flutist in Paris at great length, and even some from outside France. One name we did not consider seriously was Jean-Pierre Rampal. At the end of the 1960s, Rampal was at the height of his career. He was a super flutist jumping from one music capital to another all year round. In between engagements with the world’s great orchestras, and chamber music concerts with other famous musicians, somehow he managed to squeeze in the recording of innumerable LPs. He was a veritable whirlwind. No one thought he would settle down, out of the public limelight, for a time-consuming teaching position. When the Paris newspapers announced his appointment, it was like a bolt of lightning at the Conservatoire. For me it was a turning point in my life.

What was Rampal like as a flute professor?

At that first class, we were all on edge, of course. We had no idea what to expect of him as a teacher. He arrived elegantly dressed in a Christian Dior suit, wearing Habit Rouge cologne by Guerlain. However, he was anything but formal. He began by recounting amusing anecdotes about flutists and composers from the past. He knew our names, and kissed on the cheeks everyone in the class. He wanted to know something about each of us. For the first few classes, he just let us play. He made some complimentary comments and encouraging observations. Gradually, he would take out his flute to demonstrate a helpful suggestion, but there was no hint of criticism or showing off. He put us all at ease. From the beginning, he treated us not as students but as friends. Rampal had an enormous repertoire, of course. Crunelle had always limited us to the morceaux du conservatoire, technically demanding but musically lightweight pieces for flute and piano, mostly from the late 19th Century to the early 20th Century.

Rampal assigned us huge works of great musical substance: the sonatas and partita of Bach, the concertos of Mozart, Syrinx, Schubert’s Variations and the Arpeggione, Franck’s Sonata, Reinecke’s Undine as well as modern works like the concertos of Ibert and Jolivet, and the sonata by Prokofiev. He opened up a new world for us.

As we started to dig into this new repertoire, Rampal began to take each piece apart in detail. At first, what struck us most was the effortless, inspired and absolutely impeccable manner in which he would demonstrate any passage from any piece, usually from memory. These demonstrations were so musically memorable that it was hard to concentrate on what he actually said. However, years later, when I began to perform these same works, his words would come back to me as I practiced.

One amusing thing Rampal often did: he would bring his mail with him and open envelopes just before class began. “Hmmm,” he would say, “I wonder what concerto the French Radio has sent me to play this afternoon. Let’s hear what it sounds like.” Then he would give the piano part to the class pianist, and sightread the entire concerto without a stop. It was always perfect. At the end of the class, he would jump into a taxi, head off to the ORTF, and record the concerto with l’Orchestre national. Sometimes he would even improvise a cadenza in class.

As a teacher Rampal’s approach was to inspire his students with his examples, and then encourage them to surpass what they had thought was the limit of their abilities. No one was happier than Rampal when a student did something remarkable with a passage or a piece. He would not hide his enthusiasm, and it was contagious. All of his comments were expressions of encouragement. He made constructive suggestions to try something a bit differently. It was not in his makeup to tear anyone apart. Like Debost, Rampal often focused on tone color and sonorité. He was particularly interested in finding varied and rich colors for the French repertoire.

In this regard, his demonstrations of the Ibert Concerto were unforgettable, especially the second movement. Fortunately, his performance of this second movement, dating from the early 60s, has been preserved on video, and can now be seen on YouTube. In my opinion, it is one of the best examples of L’École française de la flûte.

Rampal often came to the U.S. for concerts and masterclasses. In the 1980s and 90s, he would usually appear in California every year or so. I was able to keep in touch with him up until the end. He remains an inspiration to me.

What did you do after you won the Premier Prix de flute and the Premier Prix de musique de chambre?

I began substituting in Paris orchestras, for example with the Orchestre Pasdeloup under conductor Paul Capolongo. In 1972 I came to the U.S. with my husband Mark Starr and settled in Milwaukee. Mark held a position at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, and I began playing concertos with local orchestras. I also played recitals at the Milwaukee War memorial, The Dame Myra Hess Concert Series in Chicago (which was broadcast live on WFMT) and at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Two years later we moved to California.

How did your career begin in California?

Soon after we bought a house in Los Altos, I was asked to play for a masterclass held at San José State University. The class was taught by Andras Adorjan. I played the Schubert Introduction, Thema and Variations. When I finished, Adjoran asked me where I came from. When I said I had studied in Paris with Rampal, he became very enthusiastic and complimentary.

When I left the stage, Charlene Archibeque, the Director of Choral Activities at SJSU came over and said, “You have to teach flute here.” She took me by the hand to the office of the Director and said: “Here is the flute teacher we have been looking for.” In less than 15 minutes, I had a job as lecturer in flute, a position I held for 33 years. When I started teaching, my English was comme ci comme ça. And I didn’t drive yet. I was forced to jump in with both feet.

Has your teaching style changed in the U.S.?

I have grown as a teacher through my experience. I’ve been inspired by great flutist/teachers – such as Robert Stallman. I still teach the same things I learned in master classes at the Paris Conservatory and in private lessons with Crunelle, Debost, Moyse and Marion. (For example: la sonorité, the French staccato, études, répertoire.) I teach the Altès Complete Method, the 17 Big Daily Exercises of Taffanel & Gaubert, the Flute Workout and J.S. Bach 66 Pieces adapted for Flute, both by Robert Stallman, and of course the Marcel Moyse Tone Development Through Interpretation. For études I use ones by Altès, Soussmann, Andersen, and Jeanjean. For orchestral excerpts I use books by Baxtresser, Wummer and Torchio.

One big difference between giving private studio lessons at an American university compared to the Paris Conservatory is that during lessons, students bring me all their personal problems, their struggles to define their identities, their psychological hangups, and their love lives. My husband has said that they ought to pay me double, once as a flute teacher and again as a psychological counselor. That kind of personal involvement of a teacher with her students’ problems would probably not occur at a European conservatory. Although these problems take up a great deal of time, I do not regret offering a shoulder to cry on. The students have taught me so much.

As a flute teacher, it means so much to have students like Annie Wu who are happy and enthusiastic, always hungry to learn more, fearless, and love playing the flute more than anything else. Rampal once said: “Great students make a great teacher.”

• • •

   Born in Dijon, Chapuis studied with Jean-Pierre Rampal, Michel Debost, Alain Marion, Gaston Crunelle, Roger Bourdin and Marcel Moyse. In 1970 she won the Premier Prix de flûte at the Paris Conservatory. The following year, she won the Paris Conservatory’s Premier Prix de musique de chambre. As a student at the Conservatory, she played principal flute of the Orchestre symphonique du Conservatoire de Paris under conductor Manuel Rosenthal. She was invited by French composer Olivier Messaien to perform his Oiseaux Exotiques with pianist Yvonne Loriod (Messaien’s wife) on French National Television. She also performed Henri Dutilleux’s Sonatine for flute and piano for the composer.
   In Europe she performed as a soloist with the Czech Chamber Orchestra in Prague, l’Orchestre de chambre de Radio France in Paris, the Philharmonique de Dijon, the Orchestre de chambre Jean-Francois Paillard in Valence, le Festival Estival de Paris, l’Orchestre de chambre Bernard Thomas in Paris, le Festival de Blois, and the Orchestre symphonique de la Jeunesse Musicale de Belgique in Brussels. She has performed recitals on the Dame Myra Hess Concert Series in Chicago, the Palace of Fine Arts at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, the Cleveland Art Museum, the Milwaukee War Memorial, and the Palais des Ducs in Dijon.
   Subsequently, Chapuis relocated to northern California, where she has taught flute and chamber music, and performed widely. From 1975-2008, Isabelle taught undergraduate and graduate flute students at San Jose State University, School of Music and Dance. She retired from the university in 2008. Since 1982, she has served as principal flute of Opera San José and appeared as soloist with many U.S. symphony orchestras.

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