January 2019 Archives - The Instrumentalist

Practicing

theinstrumenta — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 23:12:43 +0000

Question: How much do you practice?

Answer: I am often asked this question by students, and it is usually accompanied by “how many hours?” I hear the expectation in their voice that I will confirm the idea that more hours equal more success. I remember my friends in college boasting, “I just practiced for four hours!” “Well, I practiced for six!” Practicing the most was like a badge of honor. This seemed strange to me then, and after many years of experience and experimentation, I came to the following realization. Focusing on the amount of practice, as opposed to the quality of practice, is not only futile, but can even be detrimental to your progress.
So, here is the truth. I don’t count. I don’t look at the clock. I don’t require any amount of time from myself or my students. What I do require is short stints of goal-driven, inquisitive, intentional and hyper-focused practice. We have all heard the saying practice smarter, not harder. When I was a student, I thought I was practicing smart. I repeated difficult passages over and over – slowly, with varying rhythms, changing articulation – so something good must have come from that, right? Maybe it did, but ultimately all that work did not stick. Once I began investigating the process by which I learned and my mindset during practice sessions, I realized how much time I was wasting.
We have all experienced the but I could play it perfectly at home syndrome. I used to be that player who was confused as to why in even slightly stressful situations I could not produce the quality of which I knew I was capable. Two things were the impetus for change. First, I began spending loads of money on auditions. If I was paying $1,000 to prove myself in just five minutes, it was time to figure out how to perform consistently. Second, I had a child, and time with my instrument inevitably shrunk. I now had thirty minutes to accomplish what I did in two hours pre-baby, and a funny thing happened – it worked. In fact, it worked better.
I began designing short practice sessions around relearning excerpts in a highly detailed fashion. I insisted upon being patient with myself, trusting that if I practiced thoughtfully and with a diagnostic mindset the first time, then I would feel solid in any situation. I stopped playing through passages just to see if I could or just to fill the time. Instead, I focused on my weaknesses and passages about which I felt uneasy. I addressed the tension in my body through the movements of my fingers, tongue, and air, being careful to not force anything. I worked through technical passages at ridiculously slow tempos, but this time, I paid special attention to even the slightest insecurities that arose. I repeated those areas with a deliberate absence of tension, sort of massaging them out. When something did not work, I questioned my use of support, air speed, air direction, posture, and so forth. I carefully examined the problems and worked through potential solutions. I recorded myself relentlessly. If my mind wandered or I became bored or just felt like I was going through the motions, I stopped.
This all required a great deal of self-reflection, restraint and diligence. By being acutely present, I learned a great deal about myself as a flutist and musician. I cannot adequately express the value in this kind of judicious and efficient practicing. If you are having trouble making your practice stick, consider looking at how you are practicing, not how much. Twenty minutes of prudent practice is equal to sixty minutes of gratuitous playing. More practice does not necessarily equate to more success. Conscious and purposeful practice does. This will not only produce faster results, but longer-lasting results.

If you have a question about playing the flute, send it to us at Ask the Pro: editor@flutetalkmagazine.com

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Learning to Listen, Creating an Aural Map

theinstrumenta — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 23:07:23 +0000

Leaves crunch under your feet. Wind rustles through the trees. Birds chirp. Children laugh as a seesaw creaks. A voice calls out from behind you, “Hey, wait up!” Without considering the individual letters, words, and punctuation, you immediately imagined a scene. You saw the playground, you heard the children’s laughter, and you may have even smelled the earthy remnants of decaying leaves. Your imaginary playground is likely quite different than mine. However, it is not so different that we are unable to share the experience because we possess a similar mental map of images, sounds, and smells built upon our vocabulary, memories, and language comprehension.

If I ask you to imagine the music of an impending shark attack, John Williams’s iconic theme will likely come to mind. You may have remembered a parent singing the motive as they chased you around the house or the soundtrack to the Jaws movie itself. The theme is simple yet sticky and has permeated our common musical culture, allowing all of us to easily recall it regardless of our musical training.
Singing or performing the theme on the flute requires additional musical understanding coupled with technical proficiency. You must equate what you hear with the physical actions required to reproduce the pitches, durations, articulations, and dynamics that make this theme recognizable to a listener. Transcribing the theme necessitates a different skill set. Each musical element must be associated with a written notation that can be interpreted by another musician. Composing or improvising a similar theme provides an additional challenge. Your performance and notation skills are combined with your musical memory as you compare Williams’s theme to other pieces you have heard in order to create unique music that is reminiscent of the source material but not considered plagiarism.¹
To develop an aural map that allows them to identify, perform, transcribe, compose, and improvise music, musicians should develop specific aural skills that serve as a legend on the journey to understanding the language of music. Babies initially acquire language through attentive listening of the speech of different adults. Likewise, musicians should immerse themselves in musical language by listening to a wide variety of styles and genres by different composers and songwriters. Their brains compare, contrast, and catalog every piece of music they hear in an effort to develop musical comprehension. Use the following list of questions to guide you as you listen to new works and build an aural map.²
Babies begin by imitating simple words and phrases they hear to develop linguistic comprehension; young musicians should mimic simple patterns and melodies in order to develop musical comprehension. Start with a simple folk song that you can recall from memory, such as Mary Had a Little Lamb. Without consulting the sheet music, translate the song to pitches that can be performed on the flute. Transpose the melody to all twelve keys. Once you are comfortable singing and playing the folk song, write it out it in multiple keys to develop musical notation skills. Using scale degree numbers or moveable-do solmization syllables makes this process easier and provides musical context to scale practice.³
As you develop your musical language skills, begin to improvise and compose music of your own. Start by altering the style of simple, familiar melodies. For example, you can alter different musical elements to change Mary Had a Little Lamb into a sad or angry tune by imitating sad or angry speech. When people are sad, they tend to speak slower and at a softer dynamic level; when they are angry, they tend to speak in short bursts while accenting every syllable.⁴
Later try to improvise pieces of music in the style of famous compositions and composers. Eventually, your aural map will expand to include new destinations, composed solely by you.

Endnotes
¹Even John Williams receives inspiration from other compositions for his works. The Jaws theme is reminiscent of sections from Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring and Dvorak’s ninth symphony. Consult the following article for other paraphrases found in Williams’s works: Jeremy Orosz, “John Williams: Paraphraser or Plagiarist?” Journal of Musicological Research 34, no. 4 (Oct.–Dec. 2015), 299-319.
²These questions are based on the fundamental skills found in Gary Karpinski’s Aural Skills Acquisition: The Development of Listening, Reading, and Performing Skills in College-Level Musicians and the suggested analysis prompts found in Jan LaRue’s Guidelines for Style Analysis. We use these questions in first-year music theory classes to prepare students for advanced score study in upper-level conducting and form and analysis classes.
³Several of my colleagues, students, and I participate in a weekly scale group to develop this skill. We practice different scale and arpeggio patterns together, in addition to selecting a “tune of the week.” We sing the melody using moveable-do solmization syllables and then perform it in all twelve keys. The practice strengthens our musical memory and intonation skills, as we alternate playing the melody and providing a drone for the group. My former colleague, Amy Laursen, has a list of suggested group warm-up patterns and tunes of progressive difficulty available in the resources section of her website at .
⁴For a summary of the research on the relationship between musical elements and their emotional characteristics, consult the following dissertations: Jessika Karlsson, “A Novel Approach to Teaching Emotional Expression in Music Performance” (PhD diss., Uppsala University, 2008); Karen McLaughlin Large, “Affective Responses to Music: A Flutist’s Perspective” (DMA diss., Florida State University, 2010).

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Critical Listening Questions

Background, Style, and Mood
1.    Who wrote the music and when?
2.    Was it written for a special occasion or an accompaniment to another art form (ballet, opera, play, movie, etc.)?
3.    Does the piece of music remind you of a particular emotion, image, or story? What musical elements contribute to your impression?

Instrumentation, Timbre, Tessitura, Register, Dynamics, and Articulation
4.    What instruments/voices do you hear? For what medium is the piece composed (instrument solo, choir, orchestra, chamber ensemble, etc.)?
5.    Are the instruments/voices generally playing in their low, middle, or high registers?
6.    Are the instruments used in an unusual way? Do you hear techniques that are unfamiliar to you? Can you figure out how to recreate them on your instrument?
7.    Are the sounds generally soft, medium, or loud? Can you equate them to a dynamic term (piano, forte, etc.)?
8.    Are there any changes in the sound level? Are there gradual or abrupt changes? What else is happening in the music when they occur?
9.    Are the sounds generally separated or connected? Can you equate them to an articulation term (staccato, legato, marcato, etc.)?

Tempo, Rhythm, and Meter
10.    Can you tap along with the beat of the music?
11.    Is the tempo generally slow, medium, or fast? Can you equate it to a tempo term (andante, allegro, vivace, etc.)? Can you match the tempo to a metronome?
12.    Are there any tempo changes? Are they gradual or sudden? What else is happening in the music when they occur?
13.    Is each beat divided into two or three (simple vs. compound meter)?
14.    Can you conduct along with the meter? Is it duple?, triple, quadruple, or sextuple?
15.    Are there any meter changes? What else is happening in the music when they occur?

Texture
16. What instrument or voice generally has the melody? Does the melody pass between multiple instruments or voices?
17. What are the other instruments or voices doing? Are they silent, do they provide a stagnant drone, or do they move in the same rhythm as the melody?

Melodic Contour and Pitch
18.    Does the melody generally go up, down, or form an arch shape (up then down)?
19.    Can you sing or play along with the melody?
20.    Which pitch feels like the tonic (sometimes referred to as do or the keynote)? Can you sing or play it?
21.    Can you sing or play the pitch collection or scale that is used in the melody? Is the melody in a major or minor key?

Form and Structure
22.    How many sections are in this piece? Are any of the sections similar or identical to one another?
23.    How many distinct motives and melodic ideas occur?
24.    What is the initial key area? Are there additional key areas?
25.    How long are the phrases?
26.    Where is the major climax of the piece? What musical elements support your decision?

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Maintaining Your Muse

theinstrumenta — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 22:54:58 +0000

I have found that driving a manual car is a lot like performing a concert. As I turn on the ignition and shift into first gear, my right foot presses lightly on the gas as my left foot eases from the clutch to start moving, otherwise I will stall. By the time I shift into second, I am going over 10 mph. I tend to give a little too much gas before shifting to third so that the engine makes angry noises. I love doing that! As I am entering the highway, I shift fairly quickly from 4th to 5th, and then finally to 6th, where I stay on I-70, going about 72 mph (maybe faster). My sunglasses are on, and I am happy to be on the road, present and listening to NPR. I may notice billboards but forget about them as soon as I pass.
On the other hand, I could start to worry about each step of this process. There are so many things that could go wrong. I could stall on a hill or have trouble merging. If I let these worries fester, I may hesitate to change lanes and stop driving confidently, losing my muse.
In flute playing, my muse is keeping hard work and enjoyment balanced, allowing me to cruise in sixth gear. This mindset leads to inspired phrasing, thoughtful teaching, and momentum in general. There are many things that can block my muse, including rejection, an injury, or stress. In these situations, I start to focus only on the hard work and forget to enjoy the experience.
To get my muse back, sometimes a quote helps. For example, I recently watched the PBS documentary The Opera House. Leontyne Price spoke about her love of singing, and how this is what makes the audience love the human experience. In other words, if you enjoy singing, it will come through in your performance. As soon as I heard this, I turned off the TV and began writing and practicing, feeling lucky that I have a life in the arts.
However, sometimes it may take more than a quote. One’s muse can be fickle. In high school I had it without realizing. I lost it in college because I focused so much on being a good student and working on my technique. I almost thought I should not enjoy practicing because it was such hard work. Luckily, I got out of that mindset.
How do musicians keep their muse present throughout the artistic process? What can they do in practice sessions? I have found the following questions and reminders helpful.

Is music in every step of learning a new etude, piece, or excerpt?
When I start learning a new piece of music, I listen to several recordings and take note of what I like and don’t like. I then think of the piece as I take a walk. There is something about forward motion that helps the direction of the phrases in my head. Then I start learning the piece in the practice room, playing at a tempo where I can read it without any mistakes. Even though the tempo is very slow, I challenge myself to connect the notes and keep long lines. I have had students who learn the notes and then consider how they will phrase it. This is a big mistake as simply learning the notes has nothing to do with musicianship.

If you can’t sing it, don’t play it that way.
I periodically sing in lessons and my practice sessions to figure out how I naturally feel the phrase. So many times, I have found that I am unable to play a passage because I am playing it in an unnatural way that is lacking Leontyne Price’s human element.

Practice for fun too.
Practicing is work, but sometimes that heavy feeling sneaks into our playing. Musicians are actors and must stay in character. Read through your favorite pieces or ask a friend to read duets with you. Remind yourself of why you liked music in the first place and experiment at bringing out different characters. I read through etudes and buy music for the sake of these reading sessions.

Get to know your playing.
Have you ever felt like a performance was expressive but you were disappointed by the recording? Record yourself on a regular basis to recognize your habits and shortcomings. It helps me to have outside accountability. Join Etude of the Week on Facebook or start Hilary Hahn’s #100daysofpractice regimen.

Listen specifically.
Sometimes you may feel overwhelmed by listening to these recordings. Where do you begin? I have found that focusing on one element at a time is helpful. The first time, I just listen. The second time I may focus on rhythm. Is all good or am I compressing? I record it again until I have completely fixed the rhythm and save that track as evidence that I was productive. I move on to intonation, direction of the phrase, dynamics, and character, again saving the track with that element fixed as well as the previous elements.

Where is the clash of characters?
Avoid at all costs playing a piece as one static character. This is a symptom of a fading muse. More extreme characters, creating clashes, can be very useful (as long as they are in the score). For example, in the Mozart G Major Concerto, the first theme is someone majestic and royal, walking down a red carpet. The secondary theme is a bit of a drama queen. In a minor key at first, it changes character and lightens up as it goes along.

Don’t stall.
Where exactly are you going? Where is your next musical climax? I remember as a college student watching my friend perform the Brahms Violin Concerto. He made every single note go somewhere. Not once was he a deer in headlights. It was beautiful. That night I went home and was overwhelmed by how stagnant my phrases were. I started playing through the notes and catching myself if I did not have a musical destination.
Flute players tend to overanalyze and be very hard on themselves. This can be bad for your playing and prevent you from reaching your full potential. Finding the right balance should be your main objective. If you think you may be losing your muse, try getting in your car and driving to a performance in the hopes that it will tag along.

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Teacher’s Studio: Playing Quarter Notes Expressively

theinstrumenta — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 22:47:46 +0000

Recently I led a flute choir reading session with a group I had heard perform a few weeks earlier. I had been impressed with their phrasing and musical understanding, so I was surprised to hear them sound like a bunch of intermediate-level players while sightreading. I realized that when faced with unfamiliar music, they had reverted back to playing rhythmically accurate, but bland and musically static. This happens frequently with even quite good players and perhaps has evolved from an approach of “get the notes and rhythm first, and add the musicianship later.”
A few years ago, when working with a new music group, one of the composers said, “New music should have an interpretation, just like music of an earlier age.” Since then, even when I am sightreading, I have tried to approach all music in a way that sounds authoritative and not questioning. On subsequent readings, I can fix what I guessed wrong about. The main goal, however is to try to put character into the notes.
For wind players there are five common performance marks. Identifying them and practicing with them in character will add a new dimension to both sightreading and performance. In all five examples, the beginning of the note is the strongest and is produced by tonguing tu. If played with vibrato, the cycle starts at the beginning of the note. When playing in common time, the first beat is the strongest, followed by the third beat, then second beat and finally the fourth beat. When sightreading, many players omit this strength of the beat rule.

Détaché
To many players this would be called a normal note. It is played separated but not staccato. This is the type of articulation that most players fall back on when playing unfamiliar works.

Staccato
If you ask a student what staccato means, the answer will be to play the note short. That is only part of the answer. Staccato means to play the note detached from the note before and from the note after. The note before will be shortened to clear a space or silence, and the note itself will be shortened to clear a space after the note. Listen carefully that the tongue does not stop the sound at the end of the note. The tongue remains in position and is moved during the silence after the note.

Marcato
A marcato is a super-sized staccato. It is played with more emphasis which translates into using a faster air stream.

Tenuto
The word tenuto comes from the Latin word to hold. While the notes are a bit longer, there is still separation between them.

Portato
Portato means carried. The notes are played similarly to a tenuto but with a bit more direction and a small silence between each note. How much silence depends on the tempo of the piece. The faster the passage, the shorter the notes, and the longer the silence. The opposite is true for slower passages.

Sightreading
When sightreading, most flutists revert to their lowest level of musicianship. A teacher’s goal is to help students become so comfortable with the basic ideas of musicianship that they are not abandoned when sightreading. Have students practice an F major, two-octave scale the following five ways: détaché, staccato, marcato, tenuto, and portato, as shown in the box below.
Record students and during the playback, discuss if the desired articulation mark was executed on each pitch. Then play a game where the teacher plays the scale with one of the articulation marks, and a student identifies which articulation mark was used. Next, switch roles. If time is limited, only play the first five notes of a scale. If the front of a note is chipped, students should listen carefully to notice whether the chip was high or low. If the chip was high, then the air stream needs to be aimed lower. If the chip was low, then the air stream needs to be aimed higher.

Dynamics
When I was a young student reading adjudication remarks, there was always something written about how I needed to do more with the dynamics. I though for a long time that this was a cop-out for the judge. I wanted to know the real insight to playing better. Little did I realize that dynamics were the real insight. I was so focused on developing a big, rich, vibrant tone that I played every note this way. It was like shouting every note to the listener. Recently I heard a conductor say, “The most intimate things that will be said to you in life will be said in a whisper.” That was his plea to get the orchestra to play passages softer when called for. Waiting to put the dynamics in at a later time is not the best idea.
While teachers do want to develop that big, rich, vibrant sound in students, they also should work on getting students to play softly with that big tone. To develop this, students should practice scales with the articulation marks again, only this time create a dynamic design. For example, they could diminuendo to the top note and crescendo to the bottom note. Create several scenarios.

Subdivision
Beginners often learn to count using a rhythm tree. However, once a student understands the basic mathematical symbolism of the tree, it tends to be abandoned – usually too soon. Working the rhythms of the tree in duet form (teacher and student) may enhance their rhythmic sightreading in the future.

Counting Many Similar Notes
When there are many notes of the same value played in succession, many flutists have difficulty perceiving how many notes have been played. Make a game out of counting the notes to help student understand that counting is a constant process. For this game, the teacher plays a measure of varied notes from the rhythmic tree and then immediately following that the student plays back the same notes. This game is excellent for developing aural skills. More advanced flutists can play counted or measured vibratos rather than tonguing the subdivisions.
I was recently coaching the bird movement from Saint-Saens Carnival of the Animals when a flutist turned to me and asked, “Am I tonguing enough notes?” Obviously, she was comfortable playing groups of four sixteenth notes, but playing groups of eight thirty-second notes was something new. Learning to play many notes on one pulse early on will help students sightread with confidence. To practice this, ask students to play the F major scale in quarter notes and decide upon a rhythmic pattern such as quarter on the first note and four sixteenth notes on the second note. Go up and down the scale in this way. Then put two eighths on the first note and four sixteenths on the second note. The number of patterns that can be created is almost endless. Playing these mind games greatly increases students’ understanding that the pulse in music is continuous but they have to put different rhythms on each pulse.

Counting Silently
A student recently remarked that counting in her head was difficult especially when she is playing in a less familiar key, and the rhythms are tricky. The following exercises are useful in helping students count.

Add-A-Beat
With the right hand on the barrel, students play a middle octave B for one quarter note followed by a rest. Then, they add one quarter note of duration to the played note so the next time it is play two beats (a half note) and rest one, then play three and rest one, etc. They proceed without stopping through the pattern. When practicing this with a group, I am always surprised at how ragged the note lengths become. Clearly, counting the long note is a problem. Practice this until students can play up to a 12- or 16-note count and stop at exactly the correct place.

Add-A-Rest
For this exercise students again place the right hand on the barrel and play a middle octave B for a quarter note followed by a rest. However, on each repetition the rest is lengthened by one quarter beat, so the second iteration is a quarter note played followed by two beats of rest, and so forth. Continue until the rest reaches 12 or 16 beats long.
Spending time on counting and listening develops both of these skills that are so necessary in sightreading. The goal is to be able to sightread at the highest performance level. This means that students should learn to sightread with authority and musicianship which help them play with confidence throughout their playing careers.

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The Living Heritage of Marcel Moyse

theinstrumenta — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 22:25:23 +0000

Keep the sound alive!” cried my teacher Jean Doussard as I played from Marcel Moyse’s treatise Tone Development Through Interpretation. The kind, stately French orchestra director seemed to transform before my eyes into a much younger man as he leapt nimbly to his feet, describing the shape of the phrase with his precise gestures in the air, his expressive face animated, inspired.

“Keep the sound! A sound should never be sad; each sound must live!” I was struck by the astonishing resemblance between his manner and gestures and those of my former teacher Michel Debost. The greatest similarity, however, was their enormous enthusiasm for communicating the essence of the music to their students. They seemed to function on a much higher energy level as soon as they began to teach.
In the video on Marcel Moyse prepared by his grandson Claude, Moyse was ensconced in his favorite armchair, pipe in hand, listening to a student play. All at once he sprang into action, waving his arms, then showing the student with sculpted gestures in the air how the phrase should be shaped, his face alight, saying, “Let the sound live. Give life to your tone!” The student played again, the sound now rich and vibrant.
After completing my master’s degree with Walfrid Kujala at Northwestern University, my former teacher Erich Graf suggested that I go to Paris to study with Michel Debost. Debost was a kind, extremely well-organized, and caring teacher. A student of Gaston Crunelle while studying at the Paris Conservatory, Debost had studied with Moyse later on, and was fond of him. Whenever he was on tour in the United States he made the pilgrimage to Brattleboro, Vermont to see Moyse. Debost used many of Moyse’s etudes and exercises in his teaching, and had thoroughly integrated Moyse’s musical ideas into his own refined and highly personal teaching style.
A cornerstone of Debost’s teaching of flute technique is the Exercise #4 Scale Studies in 17 Grands Exercices Journaliers de Mecanisme pour la Flute by Taffanel-Gaubert. All of his students are asked to learn them by memory, and then go twice through the cycle of 30 scales, with variations in dynamics, articulation, rhythm, and speed for each new scale. Each scale was played from tonic note to tonic note, omitting the modulating bridge linking major and minor keys. We dutifully learned them, with much encouragement and prodding on Debost’s part. One day Debost announced to us that this system was about to change. He had just returned from a U.S. concert tour where, true to form, he had managed to squeeze in the time to make the six-hour round trip drive to Brattleboro from New York City for a visit and a lesson with Moyse. With a sly grin Debost said to us, “Guess what he made me play? Scales.” We all roared with laughter, tickled by the thought of our demanding teacher playing scales at his lesson. Debost said he barely began the second scale when Moyse stopped him, furious. “It’s wrong. All wrong,” he proclaimed. “Your teacher was worthless. He could never teach anything right.” Debost chuckled as he explained that Crunelle and Moyse had never been overly fond of each other. Finally, after some gentle questioning, Moyse admitted perhaps Crunelle had been an acceptable teacher and maybe even a good one, but what really irked him was that he neglected to teach the Exercise #4 scale studies correctly: he left out the most important part – the modulating bridge. Moyse then taught Debost to practice that bridge slowly, with a full, rich tone and smooth changes between the notes, paying special attention to tuning and bringing out the harmonically important notes. Then Debost treated us to a first-rate demonstration.
When Debost was appointed to the Paris Conservatory, he was forced to give up his private class, and recommended that I contact Georges Alirol, the Wunderkind second flute player in the Orchestre de Paris. Alirol had won the audition for the orchestra at the age of 17, while still a student of Rampal’s at the Paris Conservatory.
My interest in the teachings of Marcel Moyse began with Alirol’s first comment. “My only criticism is that you are releasing your lip and therefore the fine edge of your tone in the fast passages.” He suggested that I practice the exercise “Suppleness in the Low Register” of Moyse’s De la Sonorite: Art et Technique and proceeded to demonstrate the correct execution of the exercise with intense concentration and precision. He explained that the purpose of the exercise was to develop a perfect balance between the airflow and the sound, and to acquire perfect control of dynamics without distorting the sound.
His instructions were as follows: with no attack, begin the pianissimo sound with a whisper of air, but perfectly focused with the purest possible tone. Then, of utmost importance, begin the crescendo, maintaining the timbre, and playing through the center of the note, never allowing the sound to saturate with air. The crescendo must be perfectly measured so that it peaks fortissimo at the beginning of the third note. The hard part as one allows the sound to gradually diminish, was not losing the timbre or the energy of the note, never letting it sag or diminish too quickly as it fades back to the focused pianissimo whisper. Moyse makes the encouraging and understanding comment: “Repeat each bar twice; in this way the performer can attempt to successfully correct the mistakes made at the first attempt,” followed by the heartening admonition: “One exercise a day is sufficient. Never do more than two.”
The follow up exercise was to apply this to the eighth note study “Attack and Slurring of Notes,” working for immediately focused rich bell-like tones. Once this was mastered the next step was to apply it to short phrases in Exercise #4 of Etudes et Exercises Techniques also by Moyse, where a perfect attack and sustained timbre were coupled with tricky fingerings played as rapidly as possible.
The following year, Alirol’s and my schedules no longer coinciding, I decided to work on my own. A friend suggested that I contact his father, Jean Doussard, a conductor who had studied with Moyse as a young man. He offered to arrange a first meeting so that he could introduce me to his father, and some weeks later I found myself in Jean Doussard’s Paris apartment. We spent several hours going over the exact manner of playing the etudes and their variations in 24 Petites Etudes Melodiques. I was fascinated by the pinpoint precision that each exercise afforded for solving specific problems of articulation, control of dynamics, sonority, rhythm, interval changes, and phrasing.
Jean Doussard enjoyed a special relationship with Moyse. Entering the Paris Conservatory at the age of 16, the young student from Angers was all alone in Paris. Realizing this Moyse quickly took him under his wing. Doussard maintains that Moyse was responsible for his development as a flutist. “When I came to Moyse,” he once told me, “I had no sound. I had talent, some good musical ideas, but no technique, no sound.” Doussard was fascinated by the world of music which Moyse helped him discover. He immersed himself in his studies, often attending all the other students’ lessons as well as his own. Moyse was impressed with his enthusiasm and began to invite him to his home for lessons in addition to the three lessons per week at the Conservatory. Doussard was soon taking five or six lessons a week with him, a situation which continued for his five years of study with Moyse. He recalls that sometimes Moyse would invite him for lunch, followed by a lesson, then duets or a game of checkers, dinner, more duets, and a lively exchange of anecdotes lasting until well past midnight.
As a teacher Moyse gained a reputation as outspoken and sometimes irascible. Doussard found this out first hand when, in his final year at the Conservatory, he decided to become a conductor rather than a professional flutist. One day he worked up enough courage, took a deep breath, and announced his decision to his mentor. Moyse was furious. First he tried to talk him out of it. Then, seeing that Doussard was not to be swayed, he turned his back on him and refused to speak with him. This continued for nearly one month, during which time Doussard continued to take his three lessons a week at the Conservatory, while Moyse addressed him with monosyllables, grunts, and scowls. “Then he began to come around,” says Doussard. “One day he began to teach me tone and phrasing studies on symphonic themes. He said, Toscanini would take this passage at such and such a tempo, Stokowski or Walter at another,’ and tell me how composers such as Debussy, Prokofiev or Stravinsky would have interpreted their works. Moyse had played under some of the greatest conductors of the epoch, and his comments were priceless. I learned an enormous amount about conducting from him in that final year.”
Doussard considers Moyse his principal inspiration as a conductor. “Of course, I had other teachers for conducting, some of whom were very fine,” he recalls, “but I always fall back on Moyse’s teachings for interpretation. He taught me how to find and bring out what is most important in a work or in a phrase; he taught me how to bring the music to life. In the end what I know about music came from him.”
Moyse enjoyed a long and impressive career as a performer and recording artist. Nonetheless, he once told Doussard that he considered teaching his most important calling. A student of Paul Taffanel, Adolphe Henne-bains, and Philippe Gaubert, three of the greatest flutists of their time, Moyse served as perhaps the most important link in the chain of great masters of the legendary French school of flute playing. He revered his teachers, feeling a great responsibility to pass on their legacy to others.
Not only did Moyse master the style and techniques of the French school, he also made great strides in their advance. He had a unique gift for analyzing sounds, seeming capable of getting right inside a sound to unlock its secrets and capture its essence in order to reproduce it on the flute. As his career blossomed he came into contact with some of the greatest musicians of his day, and observed them first hand. Especially attracted by the artistry of singers and string players, he strove to integrate the rich fluidity and colors of the human voice and the vigor and diversity of the violinist’s bowings into his own playing. Doussard says that Moyse would often liken flute technique to violin technique. The breath was the arm drawing the bow, the tongue was the bow itself; the flutist must be as versatile in executing articulations with his tongue as the violinist is with his bow; he must be able to reproduce anything a violinist can do.
Famous for his crystal-clear articulations, Moyse taught myriad strokes, including what is sometimes referred to as bow-and-arrow tonguing: the tongue is placed at the juncture of the lip opening and the tops of the two front teeth, then quickly withdrawn to initiate the sound. Another idea was that the lip position need not change to switch octaves. Debost had often spoken of this, saying, “The flute is the easiest instrument in the world to play. All you have to do is blow and move your fingers.” At the time that comment was as clear to me as a Zen riddle, similar to Rampal’s assertion that to inhale correctly he opens his mouth and lets in the air.” Both of these enigmatic statements became comprehensible to me as Doussard instructed me in the use of Moyse’s tone and interval exercises. Soon playing became easy, exactly as Debost had said: you just blow and move your fingers. J.S. Bach had a similar saying; when asked how he could play so perfectly such complex works on the organ, he replied, “I don’t know what seems so difficult about it to you. It’s simple. All you have to do is to put your fingers on the right keys.”
Doussard stressed that these exercises were to be used judiciously at first. He said that when Moyse taught tone and embouchure studies, he specifically requested that the student not practice them at home at first, but work on them only during the lesson under his supervision. He maintained that one could do more harm than good in attempting to obtain spectacular results without first understanding the underlying principles.
A basic tenet of Moyse’s pedagogy was that technique should be taught through musical interpretation; that in trying to serve the musical demands of a piece, the solutions to technical difficulties would follow. This may seem rather vague at first glance, but Moyse’s precise and methodical approach was anything but vague. My first-hand experience was conclusive; certain passages which seemed unplayable to me became playable in minutes as Doussard showed me how to apply these simple principles.
The great hallmark of Moyse’s teaching was the energy with which he communicated the music to his students. His comments were studded with allusions to life: “Give life to your tone. Let the phrase live. Allow the music to breathe.”
One of his favorite sayings was, “There is the rhythm, and there is the life of the rhythm. The rhythm without life is nothing; it is dead. One must always find the rhythmic life of each phrase.”
Moyse invested a large portion of his life in teaching others, and did his best to transmit all that he knew to his students, using every means at his disposal – from praise to insult. Not all teachers are as dedicated as he was, however. Consider the following example: A friend of mine had taken over the teaching practice of a retired flutist in a North European capital. Pleased with the advanced playing of his students, she was surprised that none of them could double tongue. Some time later she met their former teacher at a party. After exchanging amenities she reported on the progress of the students, suggesting that their double tonguing difficulties had been perhaps due to the native language. The elderly gentleman grabbed her arm and rushed to a quiet corner of the room, where he whispered, “Shhhh! Don’t even mention double tonguing. You mustn’t give away the secret.”
A favorite story Moyse told when teaching breath control and breathing technique was that his teacher, Philippe Gaubert, had to breathe often. “He had a small lung,” Moyse said to Doussard, “and he breathed all the time; but nobody could ever tell.” He learned to take imperceptible, seamless breaths, and he was such a fine musician that he knew exactly where to breathe in a phrase so that it could be camouflaged. Gaubert’s handicap had become an asset, and he learned to compensate for it, becoming an even finer musician.
In the same way, a milestone in Moyse’s life gave him the impetus to search further to develop himself as a flutist. At the age of 18 Moyse became ill with a severe lung disease. Some report pleurisy, others pneumonia. (Perhaps Moyse’s translation of the French word into English has caused a possible confusion?) All the accounts agree, though, that his doctors only gave him six months to live, and admonished him to stop playing the flute; even should he recover, they said that he would never play the flute again. Doussard told me on several occasions that Moyse had been stricken with tuberculosis. Moyse told him at great length of his struggle for life, and of the lonely year-and-a-half that he had spent convalescing in the mountains. He believed that his hardship had proved in the end to be a great gift, and as his strength returned, he vowed to play again despite the doctors’ warnings. The year-and-a-half of imposed isolation provided him with ample time for reflection and research. Weakened and completely out-of-shape, he spent most of his time trying to recover his former prowess. Doussard recalls Moyse saying that he felt as if he had reverted to being a rank beginner.
He searched until he found one note with a good ‘ring’ to it: C2. Then he worked to match the B1 to the C2, then the A1, and so on, adding one note at a time until he had regained the entire three octaves. A meticulous worker, he had notated all of these exercises for reference.
Fully recovered, he returned to Paris where news of his comeback spread. He was soon much in demand as a teacher, even assisting Philippe Gaubert in the Paris Conservatory classes. Due to his growing reputation he was approached by Leduc to publish his notebook. Thus the result of his methodical search became his famous Le Debutant Flutiste.
Moyse left a rich legacy of etude and exercise books and treatises on interpretation and tone production. Many of these began in the same way as Le Debutant Flutiste: as his personalized tools to aid him in surmounting new obstacles.
At the beginning of what promised to be a brilliant career, Moyse was told that he was soon going to die, and that he would never play the flute again. Then through his faith and determination these gifts returned. Perhaps his brush with death accounts for his great vitality and appreciation of the value of life. His students were infused with his vital energy and enthusiasm. They carry with them today not just their loving memories of a great teacher, but a living inner flame with which they may bring music to life for others, themselves becoming links in this great chain as they pass on the living heritage of Marcel Moyse.

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A Conversation with Finnish Flutist Sami Junnonen

theinstrumenta — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 22:22:32 +0000

Sami Junnonen is an international flute soloist from Helsinki, Finland. He presented his debut recital in 2012 at the Helsinki Music Centre in Finland and recently was a soloist with the Houston Symphony in Texas. In 2017 he represented Finland on its centenary of independence by touring Russia. He has been principal flutist of the Hong Kong Sinfonietta, the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra and the Royal Northern Sinfonia in the United Kingdom. He has recorded for Resonus Classics, Alba Records, SibaRecords, Sony BMG, Bayerische Rundfunk, Naxos, and Ondine as well as the Finnish Broadcasting Company, the Radio Television Hong Kong, and Radio New Zealand. Junnonen studied at the Sibelius Academy (Master of Music), the Conservatoire National Musique et Danse de Lyon, and the Royal Danish Academy of Music.

What led you to playing the flute?
I would say rather than me choosing the flute, I let it choose me. I remember it always seeming like a natural switch from the recorder – which still remains one of my very favorite instruments although I do not play it actively anymore. I started playing the recorder at the age of 4, and the flute came six years later.

What was your early training?
Between the ages of 11 and 18, I played and performed chamber music with a good friend of mine. He was a talented young pianist, only one year older than me. Together we waded through the repertoire for flute and piano, and I think this close collaboration had a huge impact on my progress. Years later my friend became an acclaimed opera tenor. Due to my high ambitions combined with a perfectionistic personality, I had a tendency to be nervous in performances in the early stages of my flute playing. Performing and exposing myself turned out to be the best way of overcoming the trepidation. My keen interest in music and flute was noticed by my teachers, and they supported me in many ways, including organizing unique performing opportunities for me.

Where were your later studies and why did you select this path?
I graduated Master of Music from the Sibelius Academy which belongs to the University of Helsinki in Finland. Subsequently, I studied in the National Conservatory of Music in Lyon of France, and The Royal Conservatory of Copenhagen in Denmark. I have also participated in many masterclasses all around the world. I took my last flute lessons with Emmanuel Pahud who has been a supporter of my professional career. I remain highly grateful to him.

When did you decide to become a professional flutist?
I have always wanted to become a flute soloist of the highest international level and I have always been willing to dedicate my life for this purpose. Surprisingly enough, I am the only musician in our entire family. However, there are several visual artists among my close relatives. My grandmother Mia from my father’s side was a remarkable artist. She made her career first as an acrobat with my grandfather touring all around the United States during 1940s. They were praised by the critics as “Mia & Matti – The Finnish Wonders.” Later she established a second career as a painter and constellation sculptor. Throughout my youth, Mia was a great source of creativity for me. She passed away recently but I will always carry beloved memories about her, wherever I go.

What are your thoughts on competitions?
Composer Béla Bartók (1881–1945) wisely said, “Competition is for horses, not for artists.” A competition can function as motivation for a young musician, but it should never become the primary purpose of making music. On the other hand, devoted artists do not seem to need competitions for motivating themselves or to use as a launch pad. Many of the finest and most sensitive artists I know never entered any competitions and still succeeded with international careers.
I won prizes in several international competitions but always felt I was working against myself and even violating the music itself when participating. Auditioning is a different story because the focus is simply either to find a job or a place to study. I find this a healthier forum compared to a competition.
The ego always stands as an obstacle to finding the ultimate connection with art. Unfortunately, competing often feeds the ego and creates a psychological distance between art and the interpreter. It turns music making into sports.
If a musician wants to enter a competition, the focus, in my opinion, should always be on the process, never the result. A well-organized, scheduled and guided preparation is essential. The learning process cannot be rushed. Time and patience should always be allowed. Teachers should also remind students about the importance of healthy nutrition, physical and mental exercise, as well as a sufficient amount of sleep during the process. Overtraining should always be avoided.
Working on an audition panel is always hard for me and not for the least because of my general opinion on competing. I find it much easier when I am not obliged to use any scoring system. Scores do not tell much whereas verbal feedback at its best can change a musician’s playing for the better for a lifetime. However, careless or unprofessional critics may lead a musician in the exact opposite direction. Teaching and evaluating is a huge responsibility, and there is no such thing as an absolute, objective truth in art.

Who has influenced your playing?
We learn a lot by imitating when we are young. I used to have lots of idols when I was a teenager. This is an inevitable part of progress as a musician. By the time musicians reach a more mature stage, they find their own artistic identity, and the significance of role models decreases. I think it is important to collect influences from a large variety of great artists representing different instruments. Flute playing should be close to the natural use of the human voice, so, I strongly recommend listening to great singers. In order to understand the gestalt and traditions of western classical music, it is also vital to research and listen to early music, especially Baroque. Nearly every high-profile musician I have met has sworn by Johann Sebastian Bach and I am not an exception.

What led to your performance last year with the Houston Symphony?
For almost two decades I have collaborated with Jimmy López who is the current Composer-In-Residence of the Houston Symphony. He was born in Peru and is now based in California. The chief conductor of the orchestra, Andrés Orozco-Estrada, decided to program the López Flute Concerto Lago de lágrimas (Lake of Tears) with me as a soloist. López composed the first version of the concerto for glissando flute and orchestra in 2010. I suggested he make a revised version for a regular flute and orchestra which I premiered in Finland with the Sibelius Academy Symphony Orchestra conducted by David Claudio in 2011. Since that premiere I have performed the concerto several times in South America and Finland.
This technically challenging concerto consists of two descriptive and colorful movements (slow and fast) and is based on an old Peruvian epic story about eternal love, revenge, and mercy. The titles of the movements are Suplicio (Torment) and Transmutacíon (Transmutation). The story tells the following tale:
“Long time ago, at the base of the Cordillera Blanca there was a powerful king who had promised his daughter to the son of a neighboring king, a union that would strengthen the kingdom in the Valley of Santa River. But his daughter, the princess Huandi, was in love with Huascar, one of the king’s soldiers. One night, while the princess went out secretly to meet her lover, she was seen by a servant who told the king. The king was furious due the disobedience of his daughter, and wished to give an exemplary punishment. Feeling in danger, the princess ran away with Huascar, and the two lovers made a pact to stay together even in the face of horrible consequences.
They left before dawn, but the king sent a group of warriors on their traces. They were easily captured and chained to the rocks, face to face, with their hands tied to their backs, unable to embrace one another. The couple, abandoned to the forces of nature, cried and cried. Cold, hunger, rain and the suffering of being separated weakened them little by little. And so, the Apus (mountain gods) showed pity on them and transformed them into mountains. Huascar became Huascarán, the tallest mountain of Peru, and Huandi was transformed into Huandoy. And they remain so until this day, an eternal symbol of impossible love. Even now, the mountains continue to cry, and legend says that from so many tears, the Lakes of Llanganuco were formed.”
López has also dedicated a wild solo flute piece Warped Symmetry (2011) to me, which I recorded in 2014. I gave the U.S. premiere of this piece at the 2018 NFA Convention Orlando.

Performing with the Houston Symphony

What are the differences and similarities between flute playing in Europe and the U.S.?
Flutists constantly speculate about the cultural differences between Europe and the U.S., about how it may have certain effects on the playing styles. While there may be slightly divergent musical approaches or sound ideals, I think the dissimilarities between the major flute schools were more distinctive in the past when traveling was not easy, and the nations were not as mixed as they are today. In general, the overall international standard in flute playing is extremely high both in Europe and the U.S.
Art always reflects culture, politics, environment, people, and circumstances. These are the elements we hear in people’s playing. Of course, gaining personal experience about the culture and environment where composers lived and wrote their masterworks will help a performer understand the musical context better. Background information provides us with explanations. This is why traveling, research and learning about the different cultures are so valuable for a performing artist.

What is your teaching philosophy?
I have been teaching flute since I was 13 years old and have always loved it. As a teacher I think I am at my best with intermediate and advanced students, but from time to time I also help children. Teaching is healthy for every professional musician because it reminds us about the basics which should never be forgotten or ignored. It also improves our communication skills.
An analytic, systematic, and psychologically-oriented teaching method seems to provide the best results. It should aim to improve students’ technical and musical skills by utilizing individual strengths as soil for new plants so to grow. The main goal is to help a student become an independent professional, who possesses a combination of instrumental skills and musical knowledge as well as the ability to express music in different styles and in the larger context of art.
Everything involved in sound production on the flute is related to breathing and the parameters of controlling the body functions in a natural and relaxed way. In order to bring out the real nature of a wind instrument, it is very important to understand the difference between the air (amount of it) and the air pressure (air speed). For example, the low register requires a fairly big amount of slow air with almost no pressure. It may sound easy but actually air balance seems to be one of the biggest technical challenges on the flute.
The function of the lips is to channel the air, not to produce the sound. A refined vibrato for me is a wave that always stays controlled inside the air stream, never dominating the sound. In most cases, problems with the articulation are related to air control rather than tonguing.

Musically speaking, I often hear people applying musical solutions such as extreme dynamics or big accents just because they can do it or because they feel that the phrase needs to be emphasized. Unfortunately, this often does not serve the music in a natural way. I believe a good way to invigorate music with both vertical and horizontal lines is to analyze the melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic structure. A musical solution should always be genuine and explained by the law of nature rather than by somewhat poor or superficial reasoning based on common beliefs as opposed to actual knowledge. I admire many French flutists for their ability to play in such a natural and non-forced manner. I think the pronunciation of the French language serves as an advantage for this inimitable easiness.

What advice would you give young flutists?
Playing a musical instrument is a wonderful thing that will offer a priceless mental capital for the rest of your life. It is a privilege rather than a duty. Be very patient and practice on a regular basis, following the instructions given by your teachers. Remember to also use your own thinking, imagination, and ears when you play. The payoff will be million times worth the effort. The famous German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) wrote, “The inexpressible depth of all music, by virtue of which it floats past us as a paradise quite familiar and yet eternally remote, and is so easy to understand and yet so inexplicable, is due to the fact that it reproduces all the emotions of our innermost being, but entirely without reality and remote from its pain.”

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Favorite Warmups and Practice Tips
Keep the warmup as simple as possible. It should include long tones, singing legato lines, and short melodic studies by Marcel Moyse. Moyse’s book Tone Development Through Interpretation is an excellent alternative. For scales and arpeggios check out the 17 Big Daily Exercises by Taffanel & Gaubert and
Mathieu-André Reichert Seven Daily Exercises. The Scale Game by Michel Debost is an excellent practice routine for the Taffanel & Gaubert No. 4. Time and patience are required to develop a fluid technique. I also like Check Up by Peter-Lukas Graf.

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Favorite Flute Solos and Etudes
J.S. Bach: Sonata in B Minor, BWV 1030
Jacques Ibert: Concerto for Flute and Orchestra
André Jolivet: Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra
Joachim Andersen: Etude No. 3 in G Major, Op. 15
Sigfrid Karg-Elert: Caprice No. 30, “Chaconne,” Op. 107

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