No composer was more concerned with expressing his inner-most feelings with such poignancy and simplicity. My favorite recording of the composition is with Maestro Arturo Toscanini conducting the NBC Symphony for the premiere in 1938. I find this recording to be emotionally riveting and profoundly moving.
    Listening to Barber’s Adagio always releases a cascade of emotions in me that I seemed to have long forgotten. I see this piece as a sort of emancipation proclamation, stating it is permissible to feel music deeply and unashamedly. The long, elegiac, melancholy, nostalgic, and hauntingly beautiful phrases of the piece have an emotional impact that takes us into some ethereal and unknown region of thought and feeling. The music and its phrases are like a living organism from another world, growing in intensity and becoming more beautiful as it grows. The music ultimately starts to fade away into nothingness, like a curtain coming down at the end of a play, leaving you emotionally spent.
    Beethoven is another composer who left the world many testaments of tranquil beauty. Among these works is the third movement of his Ninth Symphony, an adagio molto e cantabile. This movement searches the secret places of the soul and evokes utterances of poignant eloquence that can melt any heart.
    Each time I listen to this movement I cannot help but reflect on how incredibly beautiful and subtle is the genius of Beethoven. His music will always remain one of the most moving revelations in the realm of the spirit. In this movement he captures nobility, sublimity, and spiritual development.
    Because of his deafness at the time, Beethoven seemed to turn inward and reach a transcendental calmness, a timeless region where absolute beauty and truth exist, an atmosphere of inner peace with reverence for all humanity. In this place Beethoven gives us a devout meditation of soul-searching music resembling a prayer of noble compassion.

    Ralph Vaughn Williams’s Pastoral Symphony, with its mystic serenity, brooding tranquility, and haunting melodies, evokes feelings of loss and loneliness. In this music the composer reflects on memories of friends who died in World War I.
    Vaughn Williams was 41 when World War I was declared, and he enlisted as a private in the Royal Army Medical Corps and served on the battlefields of France. Vaughn Williams began composing the Pastoral Symphony when he returned to civilian life after the war. The symphony is a deeply personal reflection on his war years, serving as an emotional catharsis for the loss of his friends who died on the fields of France. In a letter to Gustav Holst, Vaughn Williams wrote, “I sometimes dread coming back to normal life with so many gaps.”
    The name Pastoral Symphony might seem misleading if compared it to Beethoven’s symphony of the same name, which describes “happy feelings on arriving in the countryside.” Vaughn Williams’s symphony is more elegiac, contemplating the horrors of war. It reminds me of a line from Thomas Gray’s poem “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,” which observes that “the paths of glory lead but to the grave.”
    The symphony’s second movement (Lento moderato) evokes a contemplative mood of calmness and serenity. The movement opens with a beautiful horn solo over muted strings. After this the strings and flute play a poignant melody marked tranquillo, rubato, and cantabile.

    The most emotional movement of the symphony is its finale, which is a sort of lament for the dead. The movement begins and ends with a vocalise without words for solo soprano over a soft drum roll, conveying wartime emotions recollected in tranquility.

    Gustav Mahler painted his works on a wide musical canvas, spanning the emotional gamut of cosmic longing and contemplative meditation with peaks of eloquence, nobility, and serenity juxtaposed with valleys of melancholy, darkness, and tragedy. Nowhere are these contrasting moods expressed so deeply as in the final measures of his Das Lied von der Erde (“The Song of the Earth”). This symphonic song cycle for mezzo-soprano, tenor, and orchestra, consists of six movements, based on six Chinese poems translated into German.
    Mahler wrote Das Lied von der Erde near the end of his life. Mahler never heard the final work performed. Its premiere was not given until six months after he died, when Mahler’s protege Bruno Walter conducted the first performance on November 20, 1911 in Munich.
    The sixth poem of the song cycle, “Der Abschied” (the farewell), is the one I find most poignant. It is a meditation on the finality of parting, as the poet awaits a friend he will see for the last time and contemplates the beauty of a spring landscape at sunset.

My heart is still and awaits its hour,
This beloved earth everywhere blossoms,
And greens in springtime anew
Everywhere and forever the distance
Brighten blue
Forever…forever…forever

    The paradoxical contemplation of the affirmation of Spring’s new life and the resignation and blessing of death in the last section receives a definitive interpretation under the direction of Bruno Walter and the beautiful and poignant performance of the great English contralto Kathleen Ferrier (1912-1953).
    Sadly, this music marked Kathleen Ferrier’s own farewell when she gave her legendary performance with Bruno Walter and the Vienna Philharmonic, recorded in 1952. Ferrier was stricken with cancer, and everyone at the performance knew she had only a few months to live. When she whispers the final farewell (ewig) on the last pages of the score, which is marked ganzlich esterbend (completely dying away), we can almost feel her life disappearing into the music. I can only describe her interpretation as a seraphic and transcendental resignation of haunting beauty and ethereal spiritual serenity.
    Socrates also observed that we reach the highest wisdom when we admit, “the only thing I know is that I do not know.” This may be true, for life is indeed a mystery. But I also believe we can discover a few answers to life’s enigmas through the study and performance of music that ennobles the spirit of mankind. Of all the creative arts, music is perhaps the most perfect expression of the affirmation and celebration of life, a divine mystery. Music is our guide to unveil what lies beyond.

The post Testaments of Tranquil Beauty appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

Correcting rhythms: 2 hours
Correcting key signatures: 2 hours 20 minutes
Selling reeds: 3 days
Pulling mouthpieces: 3 days
Talking in rehearsal: 1.07 years
Conducting: 2 years
Telling corny jokes: 3 days
Telling good jokes: 12 hours
Attending football games: 39 days
Teaching private lessons: 1.2 years
On the phone (texting, talking, e-mailing): 81 days
Working with kids who skip auditions or solo and ensemble performances: 20 hours
Marching in parades: 8.75 hours
Tightening the bottom of music stands: 1 hour 10 minutes
Complaining in the teacher’s lounge: 1 hour (Hey, nobody’s perfect.)
Picking up trash off the band room floor: 1 hour 15 minutes
Paperwork: 1.6 years
Driving a bus: 60 hours (Thank goodness for parent volunteers – they have saved lives!)
Attending band conventions: 100 days
Attending in-service sessions at school: 29 days
Parent-teacher conferences: 17.5 days

    In his imaginative, inventive, and unorthodox book Sum, author David Eagleman introduces forty vignettes of the afterlife, each of which sheds a little light on the here and now. In the chapter from which the book gets its title, Eagleman presents an afterlife where you relive all of your experiences, but they are reshuffled so that all of the moments that share a quality are grouped together. You sleep for thirty years, but have seven years of insomnia. You wait in lines for five years, wash clothes for three years, watch TV for nine years, and spend over a year looking for lost items. You take all of your pain at once – giving birth, breaking bones, nursing cuts and bruises – all in twenty-seven intense hours. (If Eagleman was thinking of band directors like me he may have added driving back and forth to school 24 hours a day for 266 days, making copies at a copier for 51 days, and spending time worrying about things that never happen for 122.5 hours.) But at some point during this different order of things you realize how blissful it would be if you had a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, where moments do not endure, where one, as Eagleman puts it, “experiences the joy of hopping from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on the burning sand.”
    Blessedly, that is how our life is; and if we choose not to focus too much on specific events, particularly the unpleasant ones, and learn to enjoy life in its bite-sized pieces, it will be time well spent indeed.

The post Time Well Spent appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

The post My Big Break appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

Scala and Lincoln
    The two principals began their journey to Pennsylvania half a globe apart. Given their background and their personalities, it would seem almost improbable they would ever meet, let alone work together. Theirs was a professional relationship, not a personal one. Yet they shared two essential characteristics that set the stage for their successes: they each possessed a great ability to promote the issues to which they were dedicated, and they also shared a passion for great music.
    Lincoln had no particular talent for music that was known, but he knew what he liked and appreciated the quality that went into producing great music. Scala had his musical training in his native Italy, which was steeped in a rich operatic heritage. Now in America, Scala had become the leader of the Marine Band, the most important ensemble in the nation.
    The emotional world of European opera, from which Scala had come, must have appealed to Lincoln’s Shakespearian sense of drama and melancholy. Scala’s training made him well suited to meet not only the chief executive’s taste but also that of the First Lady, who could be emotionally volatile at times. Lincoln’s journey to Washington is well known and is the stuff of legend. Although less well known, Scala’s path to Washington was no less remarkable.

Scala’s Journey to Washington
    In 1841 the 21-year-old Francis Scala was playing clarinet for a local opera pit orchestra in his native Naples, Italy. By chance the captain from the USS Brandywine heard Scala’s excellent playing. After the performance the captain approached the clarinetist with an exceptional offer: to come aboard his frigate and serve as a musician with the opportunity for pay and overseas travel. The young Scala thought this was the chance of a lifetime, and he took it.
    The pay and travel came as promised, but Scala had not foreseen that he was prone to extreme seasickness. It would be a year before the Brandywine would dock in Norfolk, Virginia and discharge the Navy’s most promising musician. Scala wandered briefly through Virginia, picking up odd playing jobs as he went, until he arrived in Washington D.C.
 Recalling that he enjoyed the opportunities that a musical life in the military offered, Scala enlisted in the United States Marines as a musician in its Washington band. After getting his first look at the United States Marine Band, Scala concluded there was no way for the band to go but up. To anyone but the optimistic Francis Scala, this band was a hopeless disaster.
    At the time the United States Marines carried no provision for a full band. Musicians resided on the rolls officially as fifers and drummers. In fact, the band at that time had this instrumentation: one flute, one French horn, one clarinet, two trombones, one snare drum, one bass drum, and one cymbal set.
    The band’s musicianship was inept, the arrangements were poor, and the sound was awful. While most people disregarded the band as a public embarrassment, Scala saw opportunity. Sensing that he was at the epicenter of a new and thriving nation full of possibility, Scala could foresee not only the creation of a fine military band, but one that could be at the forefront of every social and political event in the nation’s capitol. So he rolled up his sleeves and went to work with this band.

The Marine Band under Scala
    Very quickly Scala took on the position of fife major, which essentially made him the group’s musical director. Next he recruited better trained musicians. Food, shelter, and pay served as powerful inducements to the vast number of unemployed musicians in the Washington area. Scala also improved the music library by writing new arrangements and original compositions. This music was challenging and the rehearsals rigorous. Scala soon fashioned a rich repertoire for the band, featuring sprightly arrangements of American folk songs, patriotic airs, dance music of all kinds, ceremonial music, and, of course, melodies from his beloved Italian operas.
    Scala’s concerts greatly appealed to the public. His compositions matched the dignity and pomp required for official government functions, and all of Washington danced to his music. Scala also discovered that his personal gifts were not confined to music. He had the skill of a carnival huckster to persuade and lobby anyone within earshot that what was good for the Marine Band was good for the country. Scala attracted the money needed to make key improvements to the band. Under Scala’s direction and promotional efforts, the band’s reputation quickly soared.
    After Scala had put in eight hard working years, the band had grown to 30  musicians with a greatly expanded instrumentation. Most important, Scala built into his ensemble a  full woodwind section. Most bands at this time consisted solely of brass and percussion. Brass and percussion bands may have given the audience a full and rich sound, but they lacked the tonal color and musical balance that a full section of woodwinds could bring. The full wind section Scala added gave his Marine Band a unique sound that made them very popular, putting them in high demand for nearly all official functions.
    Presidential enthusiasm for Scala’s Marine Band first arose in 1849, when President Zachary Taylor heard the band perform at his inauguration. President Taylor was so impressed by the band that he ordered it to be expanded. In 1854 President Franklin Pierce authorized additional funds for the Marine Band so it could perform a series of public concerts at the Capitol and the White House.
    With increased popularity, other changes took place. Players in the band now could enlist as musicians and no longer had to be hidden on the rolls as “fifers and drummers.” Scala’s position of fife major also was abolished and replaced by the position of principal musician. By 1860 the Marine Band’s duties performing at the White House had become official and permanent. The Marine Corps Commandant issued orders directing the band leader to report to the White House every morning during the week for directions of the President, and the band was required to “be at the disposal of the President for as long as he may want its services.”
     In July of 1861 Abraham Lincoln signed legislation officially creating The United States Marine Band. No longer would the band be merely a neglected sub-part of the Marine Corps.
    The President who signed this legislation truly enjoyed the band and its music. Scala tried to win over the President from the beginning. When Lincoln arrived in Washington, he stayed at the Willard Hotel. Scala had the Marine Band there ready to greet him with “Hail to the Chief” and a musical serenade. Scala made a good first impression and wanted to keep it that way. For the inauguration in May of 1861, Scala wrote a special composition titled “Union March,” which proved to be an unqualified success. Composed in the style of an operatic grand march, it featured a moment at which all of the musicians  sprang to their feet and shouted, “hurrah for the union!” This was the perfect way to underscore the newly elected President’s first message to the nation. Its effect was not lost on the President. Lincoln understood that Scala was paying attention to events and expressing his loyalty through music.
    The next few months would be the busiest of Scala’s Marine Band career. The band added extra programs to its schedule, beyond the usual south lawn concerts. These programs included special war relief performances for the Soldiers Aid Society as well as public morale boosting concerts at the public park west of the capitol. Lincoln often attended these concerts. The First Couple was fond of opera, and Lincoln thus was able to enjoy the operatic melodies that Scala integrated into his band concerts. Scala’s music invoked the emotional world of European grand opera, which must have appealed to Lincoln for its sense of drama and melancholy.
    The President’s attendance at such concerts did not always go smoothly. When it was revealed that Lincoln was in the audience, the crowd would bring the concert to an abrupt halt as they cheered and clamored for a speech. In these instances, the President would politely bow and retreat indoors to finish listening to the band. “I wish they would let me sit out there quietly” a discouraged Lincoln remarked, “and simply enjoy the music.”

The Band and the First Lady
    Scala also had to work with the new First Lady. In June of 1861, Mrs. Lincoln issued formal invitations to a “grand entertainment” featuring an East Room performance of “the superb Marine Band directed by Francis Scala.” Here the operatic background of Scala could not have better served the needs of the First Lady. He prepared a program that included performances of Donizetti’s  “Lucia De Lammermoore,”  Verdi’s “Un Ballo un Marschera” and an encore of “The Union March.” The evening was an unqualified success.
    The following February, the First Lady wished a repeat of this success. Lincoln sent a note to Scala that read: “Will the leader of the Marine Band please call and see Mrs. L today.” This event was to be far more grand than the last one. The President knew that planning and executing such social engagements gave his wife great pleasure and happiness. The President was also fully confident that Scala could meet all of the demands of the First Lady. When Mrs. Lincoln requested that some dancing be included, Scala wove together an evening of operatic and ball music the likes of which Washington had never witnessed.  Scala added to his repertoire with a new special composition dedicated to the First Lady. “The Mary Lincoln Polka” made its premiere at this great event.
    But not all events involving the band and the First Lady were as joyful. On the eve of what was supposed to be the defining social event of the season, Lincoln’s son Willie came down with typhoid fever. It was too late to cancel so the First Family put on a brave public face and went ahead with the evening. Throughout the night, as the music of the Marine Band echoed from the East Room, the First Couple took turns coming and going from Willie’s sick room. The music and fun downstairs and the unimaginable suffering in the upper room must have made for a macabre contrast. Two weeks later Willie died. In her extreme emotional grief, Mrs. Lincoln misdirected her anger at Mr. Scala and his band.
    She associated the sound of the music with the horrible pain that Willie had endured. So distraught was Mrs. Lincoln that she wanted Francis Scala and the Marine Band dismissed. To assuage his wife and ease her pain, the President agreed to end for a time the band’s participation in all White House events.
    This exile would last nearly a year. In the blink of an eye the Marine Band had gone from being the darlings of the Capitol to wandering outcasts. Whatever anger Scala may have harbored towards the First Lady for her unjust action to the band, he kept it to himself and soldiered on. There were plenty of other things for he and his talented group of musicians to do.
    Scala soon found employment with Salmon P. Chase, Lincoln’s Secretary of the Treasury. Chase’s daughter Kate was to be married to Rhode Island Governor William Sprague, and the wedding promised to be far grander in scale than any event held at the White House. Not only did Scala prepare a special composition for the event, but he also chose to feature himself as clarinet soloist. The work he wrote, “Mrs. Sprague’s Bridal Polka and Waltz,” proved to be a dual triumph of composition and performance. This was just the kind of rebound Scala and his band badly needed.
    The White House eventually was prompted to reconsider its exile of the Marine Band. Desiring to end the band’s exile, the Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Wells, wrote to Lincoln, “the public will not sympathize with sorrows that are obtrusive and are assigned as a reason for depriving (the public)…of their enjoyments…and it is a mistake to persist in it.”
The idea to bring back the band was not a tough sell to the President. He pounced on the proposal with alacrity and was personally eager to hear those wonderful sounds renewed. The band’s duties at the White House were fully restored. The following Saturday, the Marine Band performed a concert in Lafayette Square, and Gideon Wells wrote in his diary: “We had music from the Marine Band today. The people are pleased!”

The Toll of War
    In the meantime, the fortunes of the Union had fallen to an all-time low. 1862 ended with disaster heaped upon defeat. With humiliation in Virginia and endless stalemate in Mississippi, the cause of freedom and the Union appeared to be nearing doom. It seemed to be only a matter of time before there would be two nations between the Canadian border and the Rio Grande.
    Then in just four days of July 1863, the fortunes of war completely reversed. July 4, 1863 marked the 87th anniversary of the independence of the United States. After a tremendous battle in and around Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, for the first time in three days, there would be no fighting.
    The great struggle was over. The loss and suffering were beyond imagination: 51,000 casualties, 8,000 dead horses. For soldiers and civilians both, the trauma would be lifelong. Gettysburg, the crossroads market town of 2,400, was overwhelmed by the war. The battle at Gettysburg had sprawled over 25 square miles of rich farmland. It seemed as if every farm, home, shop, and church had become its own field hospital.
    One family returned to their farm only to find it had turned into a temporary hospital. After being allowed back into their home, they found that no amount of scrubbing or painting could remove the stench of death. They abandoned the property.
    The carnage affected all who witnessed it. Sgt. Thomas Marbaker, 11th New Jersey, wrote in a letter home: “Upon the open fields, they had crept for safety only to die in agony. Some, with faces bloated and blackened which told of the agony of their last moments. All around was the wreck of  broken weapons, dropped and scattered by disabled hands. Countless dead and bloated horses, and over all, hugging the earth like a fog, poisoning every breath, stench of decaying humanity.”
    When Pennsylvania Governor Andrew Curtin inspected the area around Gettysburg he was appalled at what he found. Crude shallow graves seemed to be everywhere without any proper placement. Rain had already washed away many of the early efforts, and soon there would be a great health risk to all.
    Curtin commissioned local attorney David Wills to identify a proper location for the Union dead. Soon reinterment began on a selected site of 17 acres, adjacent to the current civilian Evergreen Cemetery. All involved felt that a proper dedication program should be held, even though the reinterment work was not nearly complete. Wills originally set the date for September the 23rd. But the selected speaker for the event, Edward Everett, said he needed more time to prepare his speech, so the date was changed to November 19.
Invitations were sent out, and Lincoln was also to be a part of this solemn occasion. Many harbored some concerns about his invitation. They worried that Lincoln the Jokester or Lincoln the White House Court Jester would show up and diminish the meaning of the proceedings.
    Those who feared a lack of seriousness from the President failed to understand how he truly felt. “All the hurt is all inside,” he once said.  Every fiber of his genius would be required to make this a meaningful event. Lincoln also knew the unmistakable quality of Scala and his musicians, and he recognized that he must have them there at Gettysburg.
    When Lincoln arrived in Gettysburg on November 18 he brought along William Seward, John Usher, and Montgomery Blair as well as his secretaries John Hay and John Nicolay. The President’s speech was half-finished and in his pocket. Nicolay later said that the President wrote nothing during the trip. He had not been feeling well. On top of that, the President’s son Tad had recently come down with a fever. A great combination of challenges attended the President at this moment: declining personal health, an ailing son, an emotionally unstable wife left behind, a cemetery filled with thousands of dead soldiers, and a ceremony with untold numbers waiting to see and hear him speak. With all that burden Abraham Lincoln boarded the train toward Gettysburg. So he chose to relax, to try to ease his mind and engage his fellow riders with the only relief possible: good conversation and humorous stories.

Gathering at Gettysburg
    Upon his arrival in Gettysburg the President toured the battlefield. He would be the guest of David Wills whose home was located on the Diamond, in the center of town.
A curious transformation came over the city. They had lived with sorrow and death for so long that they were now ready to bust out into any form of celebration. By the night of November the 18th, the gathering of people in town had swollen to over 10,000, eager to celebrate a great victory.
    There were four bands present to lend weight to celebration and ceremony. These were Birgfield’s German Band from Philadelphia, the 2nd U. S. Artillery Band, the 5th New York Artillery Band, and the Marine Band. Sensing the mood of the moment, the bands set up on the Diamond, which is an area outside of the Wills House. The four bands began to take turns serenading to one and all. The music and commotion soon attracted the town’s leading guest. Lincoln stepped out to greet the crowd and the musicians. He addressed them all and said, “I appear before you, fellow citizens…for the purpose of speechifying…and for several reasons, the most substantial of these is that I have no speech to make!” The crowd laughed. People expected the President to be funny. He continued, “believing this…I will say nothing at all. I must beg you from saying one word.”
    These impromptu remarks concluded what was technically Lincoln’s first Gettysburg address. He then retired for the evening to put the finishing touches on his remarks for the next day’s ceremony.
    Later that night a knock came to the President’s door. It was a telegram from Washington, from his wife. It read: “The Doctor has just left… Taddie is…better. Will send you a telegram in the morning.”
    All four bands continued to play that night well into the late hours. Some who were there later reported that the noisy bands and the crowds played, sang, and hollered until one or two in the morning. No one seemed to remember which band played what tune, but some later recalled the titles. Among the selections played that boisterous night were “The Star Spangled Banner,” “Hail Columbia,” “Yankee Doodle.” At one point, the bands were joined by members of the Baltimore Glee Club, and the group led massed singing of “Our Army Is Marching On” and “We Are Coming Father Abraham, 300,000 Strong.” While this torch-lit party continued on at the Diamond, just south of town lights of a very different nature were moving as well.
    Out in the Soldiers Cemetery, quiet mourners were out in the dark, holding lanterns on high. They were looking for the fresh graves of their loved ones to say goodbye. Men and women, young and old, knelt beside mounds of freshly turned earth to say a prayer, read a Bible passage, and touch the soil with outstretched hands and quietly weep. Some threw themselves prostrate over the newly formed mounds, overcome by emotional pain.
    They all needed to be comforted. Some of the mourning were dismayed by the celebratory nature of the gatherings in town. One Gettysburg citizen reflected on this combination of celebration and mourning, noting that “that is how it’s been time immemorial; mourning the dead combined with rowdy celebration allowed our people to feel a sense of community…belonging together.”

The Day of the Gettysburg Address

Dedication ceremonies at the Soldiers’ National Cemetery, Gettysburg.

    The Marine Band took pride in leading the procession to the cemetery. Next was the military contingent. Then the dignitaries, including Lincoln, followed on horseback. Interspersed within this procession were the other three bands. They proceeded one mile south from the Diamond to the cemetery. With the stage for the ceremony now set, Scala’s Marine Band led the assembly in singing “The Doxology” using an arrangement by Walter Dignam.
    The main Gettysburg Cemetery address was to be given by Edward Everett. A former Senator, Governor, and Secretary of State, Everett was known as a gifted linguist, and he was expected to bring the dignity and pomp required for the occasion.
    Everett delivered an oration lasting 13,607 words. That speech began: “Standing beneath this serene sky… I raise my poor voice to break the eloquent silence of God and Nature. But the duty to which you have called me must be performed; — grant me, I pray you, your indulgence and your sympathy.” Two hours later, Everett’s speech ended with these words: “….Join us in saying, as we bid farewell to the dust of these martyr-heroes, that wheresoever throughout the civilized world the accounts of this great warfare are read, and down to the latest period of recorded time… there will be no brighter page than that which relates the Battles of Gettysburg.”
    Everett’s two-hour speech was exactly what people expected. The crowd applauded, and Lincoln leapt from his chair to shake Everett’s hand as he retook his seat, warmly congratulating  him with great fervor.
    Now there would be music. Benjamin French had composed a musical and poetic ode to the ceremony. Singers from the Maryland Musical Association performed the words, chanting: “This holy ground…Let tears abound…a thousand years shall pass away, a nation still shall mourn this day… The soil is blest.” The choir finished. The applause was thunderous.
    The man who was supposed to introduce the President, Ward Lamon, eventually grew impatient with the unceasing applause. In exasperation he discarded his introduction and simply said, “Ladies and Gentlemen: The President of the United States!” That custom remains to this day. The plan was for the President then to deliver a few appropriate remarks. In essence this was to be a ribbon cutting speech.
    Slowly Lincoln drew himself out of his chair. George Gitt, a fifteen year old who had stationed himself beneath the speakers stand, remembered that the “flutter and motion of the crowd ceased the moment the President was on his feet. Such was the quiet that his footfalls woke echoes, and with the creaking of the boards, it was as if some one were walking the hallways of an empty house.”
    Lincoln put on his steel-rimmed spectacles and glanced down at his pages. His delivery was polished and emphatic. It is often said that Lincoln’s voice was high to the point of shrillness, and his Kentucky accent offended some eastern ears. But Lincoln also seized an advantage with his high voice. He spoke with great rhythm and added meaningful voice inflections as he delivered his words. His delivery on this day was polished and emphatic. He delivered his famous speech, beginning “Four score and seven years ago,” and ending with the statement that “we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain – that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” 
    Removing his spectacles, still holding his speech, the President returned to his seat. The audience stood silent and transfixed. Then came an enormous wave of applause. There were approximately forty wounded veterans seated in front of the rostrum, their faces stained with tears. A major in the military, who had lost his right arm in the battle, stood at the end of the platform and wept uncontrollably into his empty pinned up sleeve.
    The ceremony continued with another musical selection, a composition simply titled “Dirge,” which was performed by a mixed choir of men’s and women’s voices. The President’s reminder to the assembly that they were standing at the “final resting place” of thousands served as a sobering reminder that they were now in what had become a national shrine.
    When the final chord of the dirge faded, all was silent on the hill. A short benediction followed, after which there was an artillery salute and an announcement that a special church service would be held later that afternoon.
    Then the original parade reformed. Scala and his musicians led the dignitaries, the military, and all four bands back into town. Of this procession, presidential secretary John Hay wrote, “the music wailed and we went home through crowded and cheering streets.” Along the route back to town, women in the windows and men in the doorways cheered and waved. People wore their finest: little girls in white, boys with shoes shined but dusty, adults in somber colors. As the President passed, people uncovered their heads and cheered. The crowd followed the procession all the way back to the Diamond.
    Back at Cemetery Hill, as the piping music faded, many lingered. While some continued to search for the graves of loved ones, many were simply loath to leave a place where heroes fought and died. They understood they were on ground consecrated by blood.
    Lincoln attended a reception at the Wills home. He shook hands for over an hour. The President was clearly tired. He had stayed up late, gotten up early, and already had a hard day. A newspaper sympathetically reported that “for more than an hour the President was the victim of hand shaking which must have tested his good nature.”
    There was one more hand awaiting the President, but it was one he truly wished to shake: a genuine local hero named John Burns. This seemingly ancient Gettysburg citizen had shouldered his musket and fought on the first day of the battle. Wearing a tall black hat and a Madisonian coat from the War of 1812, he fought with the Wisconsin boys of the Iron Brigade. The President invited Burns to join him for the church service that afternoon.
    Lincoln also asked Scala to bring his band. Off they went, Lincoln and Burns like two old back yard neighbors, deeply engaged in conversation. Trailing behind were Secretary of State Seward and the United States Marine Band, piping away a jaunty marching tune. This impromptu procession must have been a sight to behold. Arriving at the church, the band played hymns suited for the service. All listened attentively to the words of Charles Anderson, Lieutenant Governor of Ohio and brother of Robert Anderson, the commander of Fort Sumter.
    With the coming evening, the Presidential party returned to the Gettysburg Depot to board the returning train to Washington. The President was understandably exhausted. So was the Marine Band. They had played late on the night of the 18th. The next day they had played during the procession, the ceremony, the return to town, again at the Diamond, marched to the Presbyterian Church, and then played hymns. The Marine Band musicians set a grueling pace unmatched by the other bands. Mr. Lincoln’s faith in Francis Scala was perhaps never so thoroughly tested as it was in November of 1863. Scala clearly had passed the test.
    As for Gettysburg, the human tide that engulfed the little Pennsylvania town began to recede. The guests, the dignitaries, the visitors, the reporters, and the curious all melted away as the scars of war began the slow process of healing.
    It took no small amount of inspiration to craft the Gettysburg Address. Its genius lay in the ability of the President to strike at the heart of the matter in so short a time.
The same can be said of the music played by the Marine Band at Gettysburg. “Old Hundred” was popularly recalled as being the music for the event, when all the others were largely forgotten. Scala’s efforts to produce this music remained forever lodged in the memory of all those who were there. Its association with Lincoln’s words have passed down through history and lore. Rightly or not, it will be popularly regarded as The Gettysburg Hymn.
    Thus the Prairie Lawyer and the Italian clarinet player are forever linked to each other and to that lonely hilltop in Pennsylvania. Abraham Lincoln remains the most beloved of all American Presidents. As for Francis Scala, so long as there is a chief executive in the oval office, there will always be the wonderful organization that he built. There will always be “The President’s Own.”

The post Lincoln and the Marine Band at Gettysburg appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

Lip Slur Basics
    Low brass players should strive to release a steady stream of air, in a sighing manner. They should avoid releasing too much air. It is unnecessary to send bursts of air or to push the air when moving toward higher notes, and when students do this, it may produce a strident sound in the upper registers. To avoid this problem, remind students that the embouchure, especially the lower lip, should determine pitch, not the air.
    Practice on the mouthpiece alone may help in developing the sensation of releasing a steady flow of air. This method of practice has the benefit of avoiding timbre changes from one register to the next. The sound should be robust when practicing with the mouthpiece alone.
    Maintaining the sensation of having an open shape in the mouth is helpful. The player should have the sensation of breathing in through a tube or breathing in words like “home.” The inhalation should be soundless. The back of the tongue should stay relaxed during exhalation.
    For many years, teachers have debated whether it is helpful to form different syllables such as “ah-ee” in  moving from one register up to the next. (An article appearing in The Instrumentalist in 1948 titled “To ‘Ah-ee’ or not to ‘Ah-ee’” considers this question.) I find that, while some slight changes in tongue position may occur when moving from one register to the next, most low brass players will find it unnecessary to use the technique of changing syllables. Rather than helping, I find this technique often causes undue tension in the mouth as it causes the blades of the tongue to press against the molars. This tension can make lip slurs more difficult to perform.
    It is good practice to play lip slurs without using a tongue attack. This approach is sometimes referred to as a breath attack. When using this technique, students should try to breathe in the air as if through a tube and then maintain this shape while playing the lip slur. The breath attack helps the player keep this shape, and it prevents the tongue from getting in the way. As slow lip slurs are mastered, the student then should be able to add articulation with the tongue on the initial note, remembering to keep the inside of the mouth in an open shape and the tongue uninvolved in the slurring process.
    Excellent posture also helps a great deal in encouraging successful legato and lip slurs. Good posture keeps the air column in place, which leads to a good legato sound; conversely, bad posture or a collapse of the air column will lead to sloppy legato playing and uneven lip slurs. The most obvious problem will be clicking sounds coming from the throat which produce an airing out or a break in the lip slur. Clicks and grunts in the throat can also be the result of articulating with the tip of the tongue rather than from further back where the syllable “en” or “dee” is pronounced.
    Playing in front of a mirror using just the mouthpiece is a good way to practice slow lip slurs. When students are able to see what is going on in their playing, they often are able to make necessary adjustments very quickly with little explanation from the instructor. Practice with the mouthpiece alone when playing in front of a mirror will help the student to focus more clearly on the embouchure.
    Some students may have difficulty producing a buzz when playing on the mouthpiece. For these students it may help to slightly cover the end of the mouthpiece with a fingertip. This creates a bit more resistance and a sensation similar to what occurs when performing on the instrument.
    A helfpul preparatory exercise using only the mouthpiece is to perform portamentos or glissandos up and down from one octave to the next. During this exercise, students should produce a robust buzz with the mouthpiece. The tone production that results should be as consistent as the steady sighing of air that produces it.
    In this exercise, and in all practice involving lip slurs, watch for any changes in the embouchure occurring outside of the mouthpiece rim. The only outward change should occur when moving from lower registers to higher registers; this change may be an increased firmness and a slight frown in the corners of the mouth. Practice in front of a mirror will help draw attention to any unnecessary pivoting or up and down movement, as well as any undue movement in the corners of the embouchure.
    In the early stages of work on lip slurs, students should try to play lip slurs with the sensation of gliding slowly from one note to the next. As lip slurs are perfected, students should try to play with no audible glissando or smear from one note to the next, although the performer may still have the sensation that this is happening in the embouchure.

Practicing Standard Lip Slurs
    The two-note lip slur routinely appears in method books in both descending and ascending form. This is an excellent exercise for beginning work on lip slurs and for developing a consistent tone from one register to the next.

    When playing through a series of descending lip slurs, performers should try the following process. First explore breathing without the mouthpiece, maintaining an open mouth with the concept in mind of breathing in through a tube. The player next should release a steady air stream, sighing out the air. This should be practiced first on the mouthpiece alone. Then the player should perform the lip slur in portamento or glissando fashion, still just using the mouthpiece alone. Finally, the student should play the exercise on the instrument, striving to replicate the same sensations that were experienced when using the mouthpiece alone. At this stage, the instrument should simply be the amplifier of what was achieved when using the mouthpiece alone.
    This process can be repeated when working through increasingly more advanced lip slurs, such as those that appear in method books.
    Eventually, a much more advanced exercise involving lip slurs can be attempted. The exercise below appears in Edward Kleinhammers’s Mastering the Trombone. It involves gradually slurring up two octaves chromatically from the same initial pitch. This exercise can be played beginning on any pitch from which a student can slur two octaves. The exercise should be played pianissimo with the quarter note at sixty beats per minute and breathing where necessary. Some students may try to increase the tempo and volume as they play through the exercise. However, it is important to be consistent with the pianissimo volume and slow tempo so that the focus remains a beautiful tone and fluid movement from note to note.

Using Alternate Positions on the Trombone
    For trombone students a lip slur using alternate positions is useful. The sensation of sliding from one note to another with alternate positions can then be mimicked on the natural lip slur. No tongue should be used in this exercise, and it is unavoidable that glissandos or slight smears will result on lip slurs when using alternate positions.

Using Dynamics with Lip Slurs
    The exercise below is an excellent way to practice using greater dynamic range during lip slurs. This is best played with a breath attack so that a relaxed embouchre and tongue position is maintained. There should be no increased tension anywhere in the fortissimo. Students should also avoid any sharpening of the pitch in the fortissimo and any flattening of the pitch in the pianissimo. Each note after the breath should begin at exactly the same dynamic that was used at the end of the previous note. The first note should begin as softly as possible, and the last note should end in exactly the same manner.

    This exercise should be practiced in all ranges and especially on problem notes such as high Bn on the euphonium, the high Ab and G on the trombone, and notes using second and third valve combinations on the tuba. This method can then be applied to actual lip slurs. The example below is adaptations from Max Schlossberg’s Daily Drills and Technical Studies for trumpet. It should be played at a slow to moderate tempo, as should any similar adaptations.

    Another useful lip slur is Exercise Number 26 from Schlossberg’s method. This exercise also encourages relaxation in the upper register and discourages using forced air in the upper registers. Students should be sure to move valves and the slide in a quick manner.

Using the F-Attachment and Fourth Valve
    Slow lip slurs should be practiced in the notes of the range that require the F-attachment or fourth valve. This helps increase suppleness in the embouchure, as it requires using appropriate lip mass in the embouchure. Upper register pitches always sound better when the lowest registers of a brass instrument have been given proper attention.

     Exercise No. 40 from Schlossberg’s Daily Drills and Technical Studies for Trombone ends with a lip slur that can be played using 7th position or the fingering 1-2-3 on euphonium and tuba. It appears above with extended range, calling for use of the valve attachments on trombone and 4th valve on tuba and euphonium.

A More Complete Toolbox
    These methods and exercises will help low brass players perform a fluid legato with consistent tone quality at various volumes. The ability to play slow lip slurs well is an essential tool that students should continue to develop as they strive for total musicianship on a low brass instrument.

The post Slow Lip Slurs appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

    Nancy Stagnitta has been the flute professor at the Interlochen Arts Academy for the past ten years. She shares her background and ideas about teaching these remarkable young musicians.

How do you balance a full-time teaching position with a career as a performer? 
    As my career has evolved, the elements of teaching and performing have become increasingly more symbiotic. Working on my own playing helps me to be a more effective teacher, and working with bright and eager students, as I am fortunate to do at Interlochen, brings profound inspiration and insight to my playing. 
    I could not have foretold the path I would encounter after leaving Peabody. Although it has been filled with adventure and unexpected turns, it has always included a balance of performing and teaching on some level. After finishing my graduate work at the Peabody Institute, I joined the Baltimore Opera Orchestra, and later the Sarasota Opera, playing piccolo in both. I traveled to Africa to give recitals and masterclasses for the U.S. Information Agency as an Artistic Ambassador. Throughout this time, I was teaching flute at the Waldorf School of Baltimore, where I worked for fifteen years. I had an active freelance career in the Baltimore/Washington area, performing with the Annapolis Symphony, occasionally subbing with the Baltimore Symphony, and playing jazz. In 1999 I first taught at the Interlochen Summer Arts Camp. I loved the variety of activity and the wonderful opportunities for travel and versatility, and I still do. I also enjoy having a home base amidst the peaceful woods of northern Michigan, and working full-time with the students at Interlochen.
   I can still remember the first time I travelled to Interlochen from Baltimore. Those last hours as I drove into the upper lower peninsula of northern Michigan seemed endless, but there is something quite magical about it. The serene beauty lends itself to tremendous focus and artistic inspiration.

In this economy do you encourage your students to pursue a career in music? 
    This is a very significant and weighty question for every arts educator to consider with great care. It is both a privilege, and oftentimes a daunting responsibility, to guide future artists into a world filled with so many unknowns. I feel that one of the most crucial parts of my job is to help students to grasp the depth of their potential, identify their strongest gifts and greatest aptitudes, and embark on the career path that is most appropriate and offers the greatest potential for creating success and fulfillment. 
    When I encounter a student who has the drive, focus, and capacity for hard work combined with the musical sensibility and technical mastery necessary to pursue a professional career as a flutist, we work together toward that goal full force. Many students choose careers in the arts outside of the performance realm, such as administration, education, music therapy, and public radio. Others utilize the skills they have honed as flutists in a wide variety of career paths. In the past decade, graduates of the flute studio have gone on to study law, medicine, organic farming, child psychology, elementary education, and foreign language and policy, among many other fascinating fields of study. There are great flutists out there in every profession. Interlochen is a remarkable training ground for young artists, and it can also help students to discern whether a career in performance is the right choice for them.

How do you help a student build a technique?
    Carefully, and from the ground up. Mindful practice is the name of the game, and it begins with the body. I start with posture, balance, and alignment. The flute is an extension of the body, and the vessel through which we tell the tale set forth to us by the composer. If the body is not free of tension and prepared to resonate with flexibility and ease, coupled with appropriate strength, both the tone and the technique will suffer. 
    My technical warm-up regimen addresses all of the essential elements necessary to building a strong fundamental ability and a solid understanding of flute playing. I encourage slow practice of small gestures and passages first, gradually leading to faster work. Many times, a student will work on a passage slowly and thoughtfully, gradually working to play it faster, only to find that he reaches a point where all the careful work seems to fly out the window. The progress gained in the slow practice is replaced by tension, old habits, and inaccuracy. This can be frustrating. It is so important to work on good skill very slowly, always listening and assessing, and then to take that same skill with you when you play faster. Don’t leave it behind. This seemingly obvious concept can be stubbornly difficult in practice. The brain needs training just as the tongue and fingers do. I encourage students to work calmly with impeccable focus and to keep their sights set on making the music happen. This lets the brain and the body work together toward effortless execution. 

How do you help students find personality in their sound? 
    I encourage students to do a great deal of listening – first to the great flutists and singers, but also to violinists, cellists, and a broad spectrum of others. This is an important step toward defining and honing each student’s concept of sound, and finding his true voice on the flute. We start with the elemental building blocks of producing sound on the flute. This includes the exploration of air pressure and control, the shape and direction of the air column, inner resonance, the embouchure, tongue placement, and of course, vibrato. When it comes to the more nuanced aspects of each student’s sound, this becomes much more personal. My job shifts from one of instructing the basics to one of gaining a glimpse into the student, who they are, and the qualities that most accurately define the sound and the voice they wish to express. Then we work to balance these qualities with what is necessary to create a strong, beautiful, and personal tone.

Since you have so many senior students auditioning for conservatories each year, how do you select their audition materials?  
    Selecting audition repertoire can be a very stressful part of the college audition preparation process for students. There are variety of considerations. First, the student should be excited to work on it, so the music remains fresh throughout the process. The music should show versatility and understanding of a wide variety of styles, as well as confidence and artistry. It also should demonstrate appropriate ability level. I recommend choosing the minimum amount of repertoire that will cover the audition requirements for all the schools on a student’s list. 

Where do your students go to continue their studies? 
    Nearly all of my senior students attend a conservatory, college, or university following their years at Interlochen. In the past ten years, students have attended institutions such as The Juilliard School, Curtis Institute, New England Conservatory, Eastman School, Oberlin, San Francisco Conservatory, Cleveland Institute, Rice, Northwestern, the University of Colorado at Boulder, McGill, The Longy School, Harvard, and many others. A few students elect to continue their studies at Interlochen for a post-graduate year of concentrated study.

What are you looking for in a student who auditions for entrance into the Interlochen Arts Academy? 
    I enjoy meeting students who are confident and enthusiastic about the audition. In the heat of the moment, it can be difficult for a student to remember that this is an exciting time, but it is immediately palpable when a young player enters the room with a positive, confident, and engaged approach. I look for flutists who are communicative, talented, focused, and genuinely interested in improving their skills, both technically and artistically. I listen for careful preparation, solid knowledge of the repertoire, and strong potential for growth. I especially like to hear a beautiful sound, good rhythmic integrity, and an obvious and genuine commitment to the music. 

How much do your students practice? 
    This varies depending on the student. Some students come to Interlochen as entering freshmen, however many also enter in later years, up to and including the post-graduate year. The amount of practice for each student is determined by where the flutist is in his development, what his future aspirations are, and what type of academic load he is taking.
    Generally speaking, my students practice between two and five hours a day. This will vary depending on upcoming performances, auditions, or competitions. I always recommend stretching and taking breaks in long practice sessions, to keep both mind and body up to the task at hand. 

Do you have any tricks for motivating students? 
    I encourage students to consider the quality of their work at all times, on every note and in every breath, rather than allowing practice to become tedious or operate in automatic pilot mode. This can lead to diminishing returns quite quickly. The adage practice makes permanent is a good one. My students are required to write weekly practice summaries, in which they reflect on their progress throughout the week and their goals going forward. This helps them to become insightful observers of their own practice. I also require students to record their lessons and practice sessions, and then to review their progress. 

What prepared you for this teaching position? 
    My time as a student, both in high school and as a conservatory student at Peabody, as well as the culmination of all the experiences I had had as a performer and a teacher, helped to prepare me for my current position at Interlochen. I was an academically motivated student as well as a serious flutist, and this allows me to relate to both the rigors and the rewards associated with balancing intensive artistic study with academic life.

Where did you grow up? 
    I spent my childhood in Hyde Park, New York, in the mid-Hudson Valley. When I was eight years old, my family moved to Germany for a year, and I spent that year in a German school in the small town of Grafenau-Döffingen, near the Black Forest. While there, I continued the piano lessons I had begun back home at age five. I decided to begin playing flute when I returned to the U.S. for fourth grade. 

What interested you about music? 
    My parents are great music lovers, and they always had very eclectic taste. I grew up hearing symphonic music, Italian opera, big band era swing, and various representations of the pop music of the time, both in the house and on endless repeats of 8-track cartridges on car trips. As a young child, I loved singing along, making up harmonies, daydreaming and dancing to the music. I recall one particular day when I had been inspired to come up with some very dramatic dance moves to the opening of Richard Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra playing on the stereo. I can also remember how mortified I was when I realized that my mom and dad had been observing this spectacle on the sly. 

Who were your major influences? 
    My first instrumental music teacher in public elementary school, David DeWitt, was an accomplished flutist. A former member of the Hudson Valley Philharmonic and the West Point Academy Band, he was an encouraging first teacher who nurtured my love and early affinity for the flute. I also worked with another fine flutist in my town, Judith Handman, and then throughout high school I studied with a former student of Joseph Mariano, Beatrice Keram. She was a devoted and demanding teacher who helped me to understand how hard I would have to work in order to move to the next level. 
    When I was a teenager, my parents took me to New York City to hear both James Galway and Jean-Pierre Rampal perform solo recitals. During that same time, I played in a masterclass for Paula Robison and heard her perform in Woodstock, New York. Looking back, the combination of having excellent flutists and caring teachers in my young life, coupled with hearing these luminary flutists at an early age, led me toward a career as a flutist. I spent a summer at the New York School for Orchestral Study at Saratoga, where I worked with Murray Panitz. I then went on to study at the Peabody Institute, where I was fortunate to work with Tim Day and then with his former teacher, Robert Willoughby for the last year of my undergraduate studies and for my Master’s degree. I also took a few lessons with some of the many wonderful players in the Baltimore and National Symphonies at the time, including Mark Sparks and Emily Skala for flute, and Laurie Sokoloff and Carole Bean for piccolo. 

What is the legacy of Robert Willoughby? 
    What I remember most vividly about my lessons with Robert Willoughby is the questions. His approach was not for me to ask questions of him in order to learn, but rather, he was the one asking questions of me. Where is this phrase going? Why are you emphasizing this note? Why not that one? He was craftily teaching me to make decisions – good ones – about every aspect of what I was doing, both in my flute playing and in my interpretation, after exploring all the possibilities. He also understood how crucial it was for me to have the ability to assess whether my intent was sound, and to discern whether my execution matched that intent with authenticity and conviction. I can recall moments of frustration, when I would think to myself, “Why won’t he just tell me the answer.” But that would have been the easy way, and not his wise and challenging, yet kind method. His gift was the greatest one a teacher can give to a student: to know how to become your own teacher. Not only has he cultivated a treasure trove of thoughtful musicians and fine players throughout the years, but also very astute and effective teachers.
 
Where else do you teach during summers? 
    I teach at a one-week Summer High School Flute Institute at Interlochen along with Paula Robison and Judith Mendenhall, where we focus on artistry, technique, and a variety of repertoire in daily masterclasses, as well as incorporating improvisation, panel discussions, and Pilates exercises designed specifically for flutists. I also travel to various music festivals throughout the summer to teach and perform, currently at the Vianden International Music Festival and School in Luxembourg, and the Montecito International Chamber Music Festival in California. In previous years, I spent several weeks at the Amalfi Coast Music Festival in Italy. I also enjoy spending some time at home, where I give a masterclass at the Interlochen Arts Camp, play at several local jazz festivals, and take time to enjoy the gorgeous northern summers. 

What goals and special projects do you have coming up? 
    I just recently returned from a trip to Shanghai, where I participated in the Shanghai Conservatory Middle School Program’s Third Annual Baroque Festival along with two colleagues from Interlochen. It was a fascinating trip, and I continue to be enchanted and inspired by traveling, and by meeting fellow musicians in other cultures. I look forward to doing more, and particularly to returning to Europe this summer. I have plans to begin working on a solo recording project in the near future, and will continue to perform as a member of the Traverse Symphony, the South Florida Symphony, and various other groups. I will also be exploring several new collaborative endeavors, as I did previously with a project entitled “Pilates, Physics, and the Healthy, Resonant Flutist,” conceived with my colleagues in the dance and physics departments at Interlochen.  

* * *

Interlochen Arts Academy
Flute Curriculum

    Students enter with a wide range of musical experiences, and the flute curriculum is tailored to each student’s individual needs. Strong flute fundamentals are covered in great detail using a set of warm-up and technical exercises I have compiled over the years. The following is a selected list of materials that most students will study during their time at the Academy.

Technical and Tone Studies
Taffanel & Gaubert 17 Big Daily Exercises, Reichert Seven Daily Exercises, Op. 5, Moyse De La Sonorite

Etudes
Andersen, Altès, Berbiguier, Koëhler, Boëhm, Jeanjean, and Karg-Elert. I often ask a student to work out of one of the many excellent compilations available in order to have exposure to a broad variety of etudes. 

Repertoire 
    Since most students will be auditioning for conservatory or college music programs during their senior year, repertoire is selected based on the student’s age, performance level, and the audition requirements for each school. The following list represents a sampling of the repertoire from which each student’s course of study may be drawn. 
Baroque Era: Telemann Fantasies, Handel and Bach Sonatas
Sonata Repertoire: Reinecke, Poulenc, Hindemith, Muczynski
French Conservatoire Repertoire: Fauré Fantasie, Chaminade Concertino, Huë Fantasie, Dutilleux Sonatine, Sancan Sonatine, Jolivet Chant di Linos
Concerto Repertoire: Mozart, Nielsen, Ibert, Liebermann
Additional Representative Solo Repertoire: Griffes Poem, Copland Duo, Debussy Syrinx, Martin Ballade, Varèse Density 21.5, Jolivet Chant de Linos
Orchestral Excerpts
Basic Elements of Improvising and Playing Jazz 

The post Teaching in the Northern Woods: An Interview with Nancy Stagnitta appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

    In 2009, Kelvin Jones started teaching at West Feliciana High School in St. Francisville, Louisiana, which has a town population of slightly over 1,700. Four years later, he turned a marching-focused band of 22 students into a music program with an 80-piece concert band, jazz ensemble, percussion ensemble, and chamber music. Here is how he built the program and earned the support of the entire community.

Building the Concert Band
    When I arrived in St. Francisville, the program’s focus was on marching band. They went to concert band contests a few times, but did not score well, and there was little enthusiasm for concert band when I took over. That first year I had four flutes, five clarinets, one alto sax, three trumpets, one trombone, two baritones, a tuba, and five percussionists. I had to rewrite many parts and be creative with the music I chose to make everything work.
    I had to sell students on some things right away. The trombonist played a marching valve trombone, and I had to teach him slide positions. I showed the student and his parents what bands were doing across the country (using slide trombones), and then I put the weight on them by saying, “If you are really serious about performing at a high level or beyond high school, this instrument is not the best for you.”
    With other students, I suggested they switch because of their physiological makeup. At first there was reluctance, but once a student has an easier time making a good sound with a new instrument, it becomes an easy sell. Every student wants to do well; tasting success on a new instrument is a better situation than having a student who works very hard at his instrument but just cannot seem to make progress.
    I told students from the beginning that they had the opportunity to be a part of something special. After a while, they understood the seriousness of it. In concert band, we put in a substantial amount of work on the fundamentals of musicianship, then at the concert band festival that year, we received all first-division ratings. This was when they realized that I was right. They saw how much they were learning and could tell they were better. After they saw that the work we put in on fundamentals had paid off, there was more enthusiasm about it.  The score at festival that first year also set the standard for the following year. The mindset of the students was “this is what we do now, and we have to maintain that level.”

Places for Beginners
    I recruited high school students to join band for the first time. At West Feliciana, band was split into three classes during the day. I tried to block off class periods to get high-school-aged beginners together, but this is difficult to do in a small school. Within all three class periods there were students who would have been a better fit with a different group, but scheduling difficulties made that impossible. If students had a required class during the period I wanted to see them, they had to be put with another group of students. All of my classes seemed to have a mix of beginners and more experienced players. If I had a beginning trombone player, I at least tried to get her in the same class as the trombone section leader. During that class period, I would have them work one-on-one in a practice room. It was like a small private lesson and accelerated the progress of new players.
    For beginning high school players in marching band, I rewrote their parts into whole notes or something equally simple that fit the music so they could contribute. Often these parts would be block chords, and I called these students the Super Thirds, an idea I got from another director. They were contributing to the sound and the show, and the beginning players took pride in what they were doing. It kept them engaged.

Chamber Music Challenge
    Chamber groups were started to expose students  to more difficult literature. I had a brass quintet, woodwind choir, clarinet choir, and flute trio. I spent little time rehearsing these groups; mostly I just gave them the music and some basic concepts to practice. There is a website called free-scores.com that offers a wealth of literature for solo and ensemble; it is a place for composers to release music they want played.
    On Fridays during rehearsals, we set aside ten minutes for chamber groups to play in front of their peers. The group scheduled to perform on a particular Friday would be excused from warmups to run through its piece in a practice room, then after warmups, the group would perform for the rest of the band. At the end of class I would pull the chamber group that had played that week into my office for three to five minutes to ask how they thought it went and offer some suggestions.
    All the chamber groups performed their pieces at the solo and ensemble festival. To motivate students, I announced that the top-scoring three or four solo and ensemble performances would open our spring concert.

Training Percussionists
    When I came to the school, the percussionists were only used to playing cadences and drumline pieces. I asked one student what he played, and he said cymbals. I started a percussion ensemble, because I wanted to have percussionists, not just drummers. I found a book called Percussion Time by Quincy Hilliard and Joseph D’Alicandro that had percussion methods and arrangements for unorthodox instrumentation. There were parts for xylophone, snare drum, and bass drum, but also for spoons, pots and pans, and trash cans. The arrangements ranged from grades 1 to 3 and were great for getting the group going. During the spring semester of my first year, we met once a week after school to work on balance, musicianship, dynamics, and phrasing. Even though students were playing on spoons and trash can lids, these things are still possible.
   The second year, I was fortunate to add a percussion class during the school day. After some fundraising, we bought bell kits, allowing us to work on melodic playing. The percussionists saw what new options were available to them now that they could play mallet instruments, and the group took off from there. The percussionists started considering themselves a separate ensemble within the band. My last year there, the percussion ensemble opened for a university percussion ensemble concert, playing grade 4 and 5 literature. We reached this point after starting with spoons and pots and pans.

Jazz for Everyone
   I wanted to introduce students to a wide variety of music, especially jazz, given that this was Louisiana. After football season, I put up a sign-up sheet for jazz band and opened it to anyone regardless of instrument. The first jazz band included flutes, clarinets, and horns. I found some jazz arrangements with flexible instrumentation but still had to rewrite some parts. From there, I built up the program from within by having a couple students switch instruments. A flutist switched to guitar, and a hornist learned to play alto saxophone. By my third year, the jazz band had fairly standard instrumentation and met once per week in fall and twice per week in spring.

Showing Off the Program
    I titled our spring concert the Spring Music Explosion. I wanted to prove to the community that concert and jazz band were important, and one good way to do that was to diversify the concert program. The Spring Music Explosion featured the chosen soloists and ensembles, the jazz group, and the percussion ensemble, with the concert band at the end. This concert was my way to show what a music program should be. I included something for everyone. The jazz band played standard tunes, but we also played the theme from Family Guy and some Ray Charles. The concert band played its festival pieces and also a Pirates of the Caribbean medley. Nothing is wrong with marching band, but to have a comprehensive program and give students a fighting chance to keep playing after high school, these other ensembles were just as important. A secondary aim of this concert was to show the community and administration that the students were talented. If we push them and support them, they can do wonderful things.

The Importance of Leaving Town
    I have two different concepts of trips. There are big trips, which in our case were Memphis, Tennessee to perform at the AutoZone Liberty Bowl Music Festival and in Washington, D.C.  for the 2013 United States National Presidential Inauguration Music Festival. Both of these were arranged through tour companies. We recieved first place honors in Washington and second place honors in Memphis. One benefit of such trips is getting students outside of their area to see things they have never seen before.
    I learned the importance of this during my first year in St. Francisville. I convinced stronger students to audition for area honor bands to offer them some competitiveness. My tuba player made the district honor band and was third chair; he was the first person in 30 years from the school to make that honor band. We traveled to a university where the student would stay overnight and play in the honor band before returning home.
    As we were traveling, he noticed the green signs that tell how many miles to the next town. The sign said “Hammond 28,” and he asked what the 28 meant. He had never left St. Francisville before and thus had never seen such a sign. That trip marked the first time he ate at Wendy’s, Raising Cane’s, IHOP, and Taco Bell. It was also his first time staying in a hotel.
    Every time students made an honor band or went on a trip, I asked them write a one-paragraph paper on what they experienced. This tuba player wrote, “Mr. Jones, if not for that trip, I would not try to pursue college.” Neither of his parents attended college; one did not graduate from high school. His original goal after high school was to stay in St. Francisville and work on a farm. Through that experience, his perspective changed on what music is. That tuba player who had never seen a distance sign before went to college on a full ride scholarship.
    Once we traveled to New Orleans for a football game. On the way back, we could see the Superdome on the right. I have been to New Orleans plenty of times and didn’t think anything about passing it, so when a percussionist got excited and called out “Hey, Mr. Jones, look!” my first thought was that there was a problem on the bus. I turned around, and he pointed out the Superdome, exclaiming that he had never seen it before. Taking students to Washington can certainly change their lives, but sometimes taking them down the street can do even more. This percussionist is also in college, and he still talks about when he saw the Superdome.
    Such trips help with recruiting and retention. Students tell each other about the exciting things they saw. As for the Superdome, all we did was pass the building, but students talked about it as if Saints’ quarterback Drew Brees had given them a tour of the stadium. Students want to experience such things for themselves, and it gives them the motivation to work even harder so they can get to go the next time. Students go on a trip, then share their excitement with the next group, which eventually follows in their footsteps; it becomes a self-perpetuating cycle.

The Importance of Bringing People to Town
    I wrote a grant to bring in the Marine Corps band from New Orleans to perform in St. Francisville. I worked it out with the Marines for some of my students to perform with the group for its final piece, Stars and Stripes Forever. The band came in January, and honor band auditions were in December, so I told students that anyone who made the All-Parish Honor Band would be invited to perform onstage with the Marines. This lit a big fire under students.
    I also set it up for the Marines to come early enough to give masterclasses to each section. That year, one of our marches was King Cotton, so the Marines worked with my students on that for an hour, then came together for a run-through with the Marines sitting next to the students. We ran through our pieces, and then the Marines went on stage to run through their pieces. They brought a concert band, a jazz combo, a brass band, and a rock band. It created a huge buzz in the city and fit my philosophy of trying to show the community and students a diverse experience beyond what happens on Friday night.
   We used grant money to bring the wind faculty from LSU in a similar set-up. A woodwind quintet and a brass quintet came early and held a masterclass for every section. They performed a concert, and the director of bands at LSU did a clinic with my concert band, with the woodwind and brass faculty sitting with my students. All I had to do was write a grant and schedule a day.
    I have seen free festivals for local high schools to perform music as a run-up to band contests. Our area didn’t have one, so in keeping with my philosophy of bringing people to our school, I contacted a college friend who had a band in Jackson, Mississippi. We set up an exchange program where every year one band traveled to the other school to perform for one another and play a joint concert. The first year we did it at my school. Each band played the music it was going to perform at festival, and we also brought sightreading for the other school. It gave students an opportunity to hear another group perform, it was an extra runthrough of the contest music, and students got to make new friends over a meal while the director and I critiqued each other.
    St. Francisville is 26 miles east of two universities. I contacted studio professors and asked them to recommend undergraduate music education majors who would be willing to teach private lessons.
    College students received $10 for each 30-minute lesson they gave. It might not seem like a lot, but someone teaching six trumpet players in an afternoon would earn $60, and for college students every bit helps. Out of the $10 per lesson, students were responsible for $5. The boosters paid the other half out of fundraising, so students had a half-hour lesson for little money without having to travel and future educators gained valuable teaching experience. The musicianship level of my students skyrocketed.
    There were years I only had three flutes, so instead of $10 per lesson, to make it worth the college student’s time, we paid $20, with students responsible for half of that.

Winning Over the Community
    Part of my strategy for convincing the community of the importance of a high-quality music education was to publicize every band accomplishment. The band staff was just me, which meant that I was in charge of public relations and marketing. I emailed administrators and school board members, community leaders and figures, and we also sent out a bi-weekly newsletter to parents. I learned we had free postage at my school as long as anything mailed out was in a school envelope, so we started mailing newsletters to local businesses and politicians. I knew we would eventually want to solicit financial support from them, so before that time came I made sure they knew why we were worth supporting. By the time we were ready to ask for donations, everyone knew what the band was up to.
    In small areas, everybody knows everybody, so you want people on your side, because a time will come when you need help. I had boosters who were neighbors to the superintendent and school board president. As the program grew, we needed more instruments. Because I had made a point of publicizing how well band students had done, when it came time to ask for more instruments, I had the clout to point out that the football team got new jerseys every year and classes didn’t use books or computers from the 1960s, but we were playing on instruments that old.
    My first year there, I knew I wanted to take a big trip the second year. To be able to set up that trip to Memphis, I needed the administration firmly in my corner. At the Spring Music Explosion, I had the principal conduct, and I advertised this heavily. All we did was play the fight song, something students already knew. This way, regardless of what the principal did, the students could stay together. At the end of the concert, I gave the principal a long introduction, and when we got through the fight song, and the place went crazy. It was a way to get the principal to buy into the program, and he loved the goodwill he built with the band students and parents. This will work with anybody influential that you might need support from down the line. Success breeds success. Once people see something great happening, the school and the community will want to promote it and support it to keep it going.

Fundraising
    Rehearsal-thons were an idea I borrowed from another teacher. He would have students get pledges of an amount of money per hour of rehearsal. Each student was responsible for getting pledges totaling at least $10 per hour. He did this in fall during marching season, and once all the pledges came in, he held a marching rehearsal from 6:00 p.m. to midnight, meaning that each student would raise at least $60 for the night. This gave the director the opportunity to earn money for the program by doing nothing more than having an extended marching rehearsal.
    We did this in the spring with our concert band and brought in a guest conductor to work with students early in the evening. Another option would be to bring in the studio faculty from the local university to pull students out and give masterclasses and clinics. However it is planned, this fundraiser provides some extended rehearsal time while making money for the program.
    Here in Louisiana, people love food, so we would have a jambalaya sale. We asked for donations of ingredients. The only thing we bought was $100 worth of rice. Band parents made jambalaya, and each student brought a side dish, dessert, or utensils. We sold it on a Friday and raised $3,200, with our only expense being the rice.
A 50/50 raffle works well. We brought raffle tickets and announced that however much money we raised selling the tickets, half would go to the winner. We averaged $150 per football game at every home game.
    Business donation letters also proved successful for the program. At the end of the year we compiled a list of everything music students had accomplished. We wrote a letter listing these along with a note saying that if a business donated $50-$100, we would put their name on the back of next year’s band shirt or the website. We noticed that many of the people who ran donating businesses were neighbors or relatives of band students. It was a matter of connections. The first year we raised $2,800 from donation letters. We got a business card with a logo from each company and made a screen for the shirts. It cost $40, which was our only expense. All it took was creativity to write a letter and time to mail it.

Band on a Budget
    In every state there are surplus property agencies that resell equipment to non-profits and schools for an extremely discounted price. Our school used it to buy tables and chairs, but I learned that Property Surplus, the Louisiana Agency, also had instruments. Many of these instruments came from the military groups. I bought a Buffet clarinet worth $3,000 for $250. The only thing missing was the barrell. We bought a barrel and had an orchestral-quality instrument. We bought a Bach Stradavarius trumpet for $25. A vehicle had run over the bell, which we got fixed for $75. For $100 we got a professional trumpet. This was how I beefed up my concert band instrumentation. We bought an oboe, a bass trombone, and a baritone saxophone, all for very little money. When I discovered something new at the warehouse I would find out what the blemish was and get a quote from the local repair shop. If it was worth it, I would buy. There is some paperwork that has to be filled out before Property Surplus can be used, but our school was already buying from them, so this was no problem. To find a state agency for surplus property in your state, visit http://www.gsa.gov/portal/content/100851.

Professional Development
    Directors should find ways to develop their musicianship as well. I went to as many masterclasses as I could find. Louisiana State University offered a free conducting symposium. I got to conduct the LSU symphonic winds and be critiqued by Michael Haithcock for free. Many college studios offer instrument days as well, so I took advantage of those. Attend local conferences and district band meetings. Observe honor bands even if you do not have any students in the group. It is amazing what you can learn just watching a clinician work with students.
    Frequently, professional development at school had little to do with the teaching in my band room. I met with the principal and got permission to observe other band directors. I visited two high schools and a middle school in the area, observing rehearsals and discussing teaching techniques with the other directors. It cost no money, I earned credit for professional development, and it was time well spent. Later, some of those directors came to my school to observe.
    Find someone who you consider an outstanding teacher in your district or area. Music educators are willing to share anything, but you have to ask. New directors are sometimes afraid to ask questions for fear of showing ignorance, but the only way to learn is to ask. Invite a teacher to work your group and record the rehearsal, or go to their school and observe. I want my students to perform extremely well consistently, so when I see a group with this quality, I find out what that director is doing.

    Some programs might be in worse shape than others, but all music programs should be salvageable. It will be like a puzzle; you have to figure out how to move certain things to make it work. I inherited a program without much tradition and history. Through creativity, hard work, and strong mentors, I was able to create something special and get the community to appreciate all aspects of the program. It takes quite a bit of time, but there are many things that cost little money. It is possible to build an outstanding band in a small school.   

The post The Music Explosion at West Feliciana High appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

Editor’s note: The Instrumentalist profiled Gerry Miller in . We asked him to follow up with more detail about how his program works throughout the year. This is the first installment.

    In our band hall, the quote of the month for January is from Stephen R. Covey’s Seven Habits: “Begin with the end in mind.” The foundation we build with our ensembles in January will ensure great musical performances in March, April, and May. Every ensemble presents a different set of challenges. As we think through each of our concert bands, we assess the strengths and weaknesses of every section, as well as the full ensemble. It’s like preparing a great meal: there are the basic ingredients, but, as with most classic recipes, quantities are only suggestions. Each meal we make, just like each day, brings new surprises as we prepare for the long season ahead. We continually sample what is needed and what areas require greater attention. We hone our craft in the process and develop a rapport and a vocabulary with our ensemble that will extend through the spring and into the new year ahead.
    In our band program, there are three main types of foundation-building exercises that appear regularly in January rehearsal plans: building great individual, section, and ensemble tone qualities; working technical facility and comfort across the full range of the instruments; and tuning in the full ensemble – both through singing and playing.

Tone Builders
    I tell my students that if we all suddenly teleported to the base of Mount Everest, every one us could easily conquer the first 100 steps up the mountain. But none of us could conquer the last 100 steps without a tremendous amount of preparation and training. This analogy defines how we approach tone building. Each ensemble, no matter the maturity level, starts with the basic tenets of tone production: breathing, embouchure, note starts/articulation, shape, air speed, and release.
    As we reflect on the start of our ascent to great tone during the first year of band, it is a truly noble task – we are called to be diligent, patient, and supportive guides. As performers matriculate into our intermediate and advanced ensembles, we are tasked with molding great fundamental tones into a clear ensemble sound. Throughout this process, we stress that the sound of the individual must come first. If every clarinetist sounds exactly the same on open G, we are only around 1⁄40 of the way there when considering the full range of the instrument. Our goal should be for every student to produce fundamentally correct sounds across the instrument. This isn’t a simple task – it takes years to master individual tone. As a result, we start with exercises that employ their first notes, staying in the most comfortable register of the instrument and gradually advancing up and down. We work on connecting their great sounds in the middle of their ranges to notes farther and farther away from their first notes.
    At the start of each class in January, we often open with a few breathing exercises. In our opinion, The Breathing Gym (Pilafian and Sheridan) offers the best start to this process. After our breathing exercises, we prefer to use a Remington Exercise beginning on low Bb with whole notes (three whole notes – Bb-A-Bb – with four counts of rest between each, continuing down the pattern). We discuss each exercise in terms of constants and variables. There are certain things that must take place in the rehearsal room for the exercise to have merit in building tone quality. The constants for low Bb Remington are the metronome at q = 100 and a drone Bb major chord (Bb-F-Bb-D-F) on the Yamaha Harmony Director. The variables on low Bb Remington include several layers of performance: we can allow individuals, sections, or the entire ensemble to perform on selected repetitions. As well, it is always interesting to pair the clarinets playing with the trumpets buzzing on BERPs, or the full brass section on their instruments with the woodwinds and percussion singing. Additionally, we sometimes move away from Bb Remington into other key centers that may apply to the pieces currently in the ensemble’s repertoire. It can be easy to work a Bb Remington to the point at which it sounds confident, but similar exercises based on C or Db present new difficulties.
    After Bb Remington, we move to the descending F major scale. Again, there are a few important constants to ensure that the exercise improves the tone of the ensemble. The constants for F descending include the metronome at q = 100 and a drone chord on the Harmony Director (F-C-F-A-C, middle octave). The same variables from low Bb Remington are still used: sections playing, brass buzzing, and others singing on a la syllable. However, in F descending, the most important variable we add to the tone building process is the use of varied articulation patterns. While students may sound great on the long tones of low Bb Remington, we find that their tones aren’t always as clear once the tongue begins moving inside the mouth. Each student will need accommodations to hold their great tone in place as they articulate, and the more that we can allow them to perfect their craft, the better they will utilize varied articulations atop their best sound inside the repertoire.
    So, in the framework of the F descending exercise, we work through a series of varied articulation patterns including half notes (a good long tone start), legato eighth-notes (full, connected), staccato eighth-notes (light, lifted, half-sound/half-silence), eighth-note triplets (slight separation, but still light and lifted), and sixteenth-note permutations. We will even incorporate double-tonguing and triple-tonguing with the more experienced ensembles. Whenever the tone quality begins to sound fuzzy or unfocused, we return to half notes. We tell them it’s like a camera – things appear clear and focused when the camera is still, but when we simultaneously walk and take pictures (8th notes), it becomes harder to stabilize and capture well-defined images. Once we start running and photographing (16th-notes), we have to be incredibly careful to keep our camera as still as possible to sustain the clarity we had back when we were standing still.
    On the long tones, we aim for the ensemble to sound smooth and clear. As the tongue starts to divide the air stream, problems in clarity will arise, and returning to our divided groups (buzzing, singing with the correct articulation syllable for each instrument, and playing) will highlight areas for growth and development. Once F descending sounds good, we move into other key centers that complement the repertoire, including other major keys, minor keys, and non-traditional scales as needed.
    After F descending, we have a set of flow studies arranged for full band (a PDF is available on our website). The flow studies work around a target pitch, beginning on the first notes discussed earlier. The exercises move up and down through the range of the instrument, increasingly adding ascending notes to the pattern. This exercise tests air flow and consistency. The constants in the flow studies include the metronome at q = 100 and a drone chord (R-5-R-3-5) moving down chromatically through the lines (on the Yamaha device, press Transpose, then use the Minus Sign button under the wheel for each key change once the original chord is set up). Our youngest high school ensemble will play lines 1 through 4 on flow studies 1 through 4, while some of the older ensembles will use lines 1 through 5 and 1 through 6.
    Tone building is the most important ingredient in our January rehearsals. Most of our ensembles have 90-minute rehearsals. With the youngest bands, the tone-building process will take around 20-25 minutes. The more mature ensembles will spend 15-20% of the rehearsal working on tone building.

Technique Exercises
    In our program, building a strong technical foundation is driven by literature. When we study the pieces in the program, we extrapolate scales and patterns that will best help our students perform successfully. Working on all twelve major scales is a priority, but if a piece calls for harmonic minor, pentatonic, or whole tone scales, we construct technical exercises around these concepts. It is important that scale work is not simply procedural, but purposeful and based in the literature.
    After scales, we use variations on the Clark Studies for full band. These studies (available as a PDF on our website) take the full band through a Clark-style exercise program. If we are concerned about non-scalar technique, specifically brass lip slurs, these exercises address it beautifully. The constants in this portion of the rehearsal include the metronome at q = 100-110 and a drone (R-5-R-3-5) moving down chromatically with the exercise. We also have a simple chromatic exercise that varies articulation and chromaticism. It is a bit quicker (q = 144) and offers students an opportunity to build their chromatic technique in small spurts rather than on the full scale.
    Our students actually find working on technique to be one of the most enjoyable things we do. I regularly remind myself to work things in small segments. We use the following analogy: imagine that you are required pull up a stool to an all-you-can-eat buffet counter and eat everything on the buffet at once – it’s laughably impossible. Instead, we take one plate at a time. Now, considering the extension of this metaphor, there are many ways to approach buffet-style eating – perhaps we retrieve just a salad first, then go back for a mixed meal of an entree, a vegetable, and a starch; or maybe we just go straight for the good stuff and load up our plate with just one dish. In the end, every trip fills us up, and we’re adding fuel. As directors, we have to choose which approach best suits the ensemble and the repertoire we are working towards when beginning this process, and for the healthiest results, working technique in small portions will increase our ability to absorb everything on the plate.
    In a recent article, Christine Carter, clarinet professor at the Manhattan School of Music, outlined a new approach to practicing. Her dissertation compares practicing musical excerpts in a random format rather than a blocked practice schedule. She compares this to how baseball players approach hitting. Some baseball players will enter the batting cages and hit ten fast balls, then five change-ups, then ten curve balls, etc (aaaaaaaaaa, bbbbb, cccccccccc). This approach gives players a sense of accomplishment at the end of the aaaa series, but it does not simulate game-time challenges. She advocates working on a series of excerpts – hit two fastballs, one change-up, one curveball, and one more fastball (aabca, aabca, aabca…). After all, on the concert, we do not get ten chances in a row to perfect a technical excerpt – it’s all about performing the technique in stride as we approach it in the repertoire. So, when working on technique, consider using a more random approach, eschewing the aaaabbbbcccc approach, for the aabca method.

Ensemble Tuning
    To work on ensemble tuning, we must first have invested plenty of time in our tone building. To play in tune, we must play with a great tone. We have always written chorales that work around the key centers of the pieces we are programming. There are many factors to consider. Sometimes, a chorale can be excerpted directly from a piece, like Schuman’s Chester or Zdechlik’s Chorale and Shaker Dance. When programming Ticheli’s Apollo Unleashed from his Second Symphony, we employed the Bach chorale contained in the movement (BWV 433), using Ticheli’s voicings for the low reeds and brass, and adding another set of voicings for the upper woodwinds so that the chorale could be used daily to develop ensemble tuning.
    Additionally, I think that the trios of traditional marches, when adapted well to the chorale style, can add to the musicality of our performances. Consider the trio from Sousa’s The Liberty Bell March or Teike’s Old Comrades – both adapt well to the chorale style. Not only will the tuning of the section improve, but the students will have a greater sense of the melody as a musical line rather than as a section of quick technique and oom-pahs.
    Our final consideration in chorale selection is voicing style. When performing works like Schuman’s George Washington Bridge or Persichetti’s Masquerade for Band, employ chorales that allow students’ ears to accept compositional practices like bitonality and pandiatonicism. In the Persichetti, for example, there are masterful sections that, when performed slowly like a chorale, actually reveal two great chorales layered atop one another with a cool obbligato line (Letter X in Masquerade, if you’re curious). The ensemble could learn both chorales and perform them separately, then use A/B pairing to switch off and hear how bitonality sounds from an ensemble tuning perspective.
    Once a chorale is in place with the ensemble, we perform it daily with a few constants and variables. The main constant is the drone pitch. It’s important that we program the performers’ inner monologue to be a musical accompaniment track. Often when we perform, we fill our head with English words – things like “slower,” “don’t rush,” “softer.” Sometimes, we find ourselves working in Italian – “crescendo,” “ritardando,” “meno mosso.” The level that is most difficult to acquire when programming the inner monologue of young musicians is one that is strictly musical – hearing a drone pitch and other lines to match with, as well as a consistent pulsing rhythm with subdivisions where required. By using the drone pitch and metronome in class each day, we are reprogramming our students’ inner monologues during performances, and in doing so, allowing them to hear and react at an incredibly high level.
    After teaching the notes and rhythms of the chorale, we begin singing. The students always stand to sing the chorale, and in doing so, increase their awareness of pitch away from the mechanics of the instrument. While students are not always comfortable singing, we have found that having them stand, open their mouth to the width of two fingers, and articulate with a la syllable, placing their tongue down on the floor of their mouth after the articulation of the note, yields the best overall approach. We avoid criticism about vocal tone – we want them to produce pitches in tune, and to focus on their musical line while hearing and blending or matching with other musical lines. It’s also useful to have them hold one ear closed when singing – it increases awareness of their own voice and pitch level while still allowing them to hear their neighbors.
    After singing, we move to brass buzzing and woodwinds playing. For this, we also move the chordal accompaniment up one octave, so the pitch center is clearer to the woodwinds. We find that it makes brass buzzing easier to define. For buzzing, we advocate using BERPs on all the instruments, with the resistance sleeve set to whatever feels most natural for the player. If anything, adding just a bit more resistance to the feel of the mouthpiece is preferred. After the buzzing round, we move the chord back down to the original octave and have the full ensemble play with the chord sustained throughout. Finally, on the fourth repetition of the chorale, we remove the drone chord and just focus on the internal intonation of the ensemble. We find that, after three performances of the chorale (singing, buzzing, and playing) with the drone, fading it out right as the fourth round begins aids greatly in establishing a tonal center that is focused and round.
    There are plenty of great chorale books available, but we have found that the ones we write best address our ensembles’ challenges. Be creative. We don’t have to perform these learning chorales on stage for an audience or judges.

In Conclusion
    After spending several weeks building these concepts into the ensemble, we begin to find our band sound. It is vitally important that students fall in love with their sound and insist upon the ensemble sounding its best every day. This is not something that comes from us on the podium – it has to be something that students insist upon in daily rehearsals. We compare it to the way one feels with a brand new car – it’s sleek, shiny, and smells new. Over time, it’s easy to let scratches, dents, and dirt become a part of our car. We don’t notice them much at first, but over time, they build up. So, every once in a while, it is good to invest time in really cleaning the car, inside and out. We set a new standard for our vehicle. Hopefully, we fall in love with it all over again. That’s how January should feel in our ensembles – a chance to rediscover our band sound, and make it something we love, a vehicle that carries us through to the end of the season.

Several printed and video resources are available on the Wakeland Band website. Stop by and see it in practice – .

The post Begin with the End in Mind appeared first on The Instrumentalist.