May 2015 Archives - The Instrumentalist /category/may-2015-flute-talk/ Wed, 29 Apr 2015 23:40:08 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 What’s in Your Flute Bag /may-2015-flute-talk/whats-in-your-flute-bag/ Wed, 29 Apr 2015 23:40:08 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/whats-in-your-flute-bag/     When leaving home for a concert or gig, musicians routinely check to be sure they have instruments, music, and maybe a music stand, pencil and of course, glasses. For serious freelance flutists, however, a bag filled with some basic essentials will prepare you for almost any emergency and avoid last-minute scrambling as you go […]

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    When leaving home for a concert or gig, musicians routinely check to be sure they have instruments, music, and maybe a music stand, pencil and of course, glasses. For serious freelance flutists, however, a bag filled with some basic essentials will prepare you for almost any emergency and avoid last-minute scrambling as you go out the door.

 

1. Scotch tape: This is an essential that always has proven to be very useful. Of course, taping music together is the obvious use, but other purposes come to mind such as to tape that pesky hem on your pants that won’t stay put. Tape can also be used to hold music in place if you do not have clips – see #2. By the way, duct tape (best kept in the car trunk) is always useful too.

2. Clips: Music that will not stay put is always a problem. I have seen musicians use many things to solve this, but the best in my opinion are old-fashioned clothes pins that you can buy at any grocery store very cheaply. They tend to disappear, however, so make sure to have a good supply. Binder clips will also work.

3. Business cards: Keep cards handy so you do not have to root around in the bottom of your purse. This looks unprofessional, and they can quickly become dirty and beat up. Be careful about handing out your card if you are not the contractor for a gig.

4. Stand light: It is worth it to buy the battery operated lights so that you don’t have to deal with #5.
5. Extension cord: Be careful with its usage. If the cord is stretching across an area where people are walking, get permission from those in charge. You don’t want brides tripping down the aisle.

6. Quarters & dimes: If a gig is downtown, have change available to feed the parking meter. One ticket could cost you whatever you might make at the gig.

7. Small sewing kit: Pack a plastic bag with black and white thread and needle (preferably with the needle already threaded) and a small pair of scissors. Include one black and one white button.

8. Nail clippers: These can be used in place of scissors (see #7).

9. Small temperature gauge: This is helpful to monitor the temperature of outdoor gigs. Make sure the contract states the weather conditions you are willing to play in. Most musicians can stand as low as 60 degrees, but check with your colleagues beforehand.

10. Sticky note pads: These come in all sizes; I prefer the smallest. They are very useful for directing colleagues to the correct page for a lightning fast change – like from the processional music to the bridal march. Just label them bridal party, music for parents to walk to, bride’s music, etc. and put them in the appropriate places in the music.

11. Dental floss: Besides the obvious, floss is actually pretty strong and can be used in a pinch for tying things.

12. Phone numbers: Keep colleagues’ phone numbers on your cell phone, so in a last minute emergency, you might be able to dig up someone who lives nearby.

13. Tiny screwdrivers.
14. Hair scrunchies: For those with long hair, black hair scrunchies are very helpful for windy outdoor gigs.

15. Medical kit: Pack your own first aid supplies and include band-aids, headache medicine, antibiotic cream, disinfectant wipes, etc. Travel size packets work well.

16. Music stand: Keep an extra music stand in the car always.

17. Underarm deodorant: The small travel size fits nicely in the bag.

18. Bug spray and sun screen: Again look for travel sizes and preferably unscented varieties.

19. Water bottle.

20. Sunglasses.

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How to Make a Living with a Music Degree /may-2015-flute-talk/how-to-make-a-living-with-a-music-degree/ Wed, 29 Apr 2015 23:17:00 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/how-to-make-a-living-with-a-music-degree/     During my freshman year at Peabody, I remember having a discussion with Laurie Sokoloff about the prospect of finding a job after graduation. Her response was something to the the effect of “people don’t go into music for the money.” At the time, this did not mean all that much to me. From what […]

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    During my freshman year at Peabody, I remember having a discussion with Laurie Sokoloff about the prospect of finding a job after graduation. Her response was something to the the effect of “people don’t go into music for the money.” At the time, this did not mean all that much to me. From what I understood, plenty of people got music degrees and seemed to support themselves after graduation. Now that I have some experience in finding a job as a musician, I realize that not only was Laurie right, but that her statement cannot really be emphasized enough.
    The market is not just tough – it is brutal. Practically speaking, full-time music jobs are unlikely, and expecting one after graduation is unrealistic. Full-time orchestra jobs are scarce, partially because there are fewer orchestras with enough funding and partially because musicians are keeping those jobs longer. The prospect of teaching flute full time at a university also is growing less plausible as music departments lose funding and reorganize programs. The reality is that the vast majority of orchestras employ musicians on a per service basis, and many college flute teachers are hired for non-tenure track, adjunct positions, where the teacher is paid by the course or by the student. It is still possible to survive as a professional musician, but the methods and paths are often quite different than they were in the past.

Apply for Everything
   The top piece of advice I would give to aspiring musicians is to apply for everything. No gigs or job opportunities will fall into your lap because there will always be someone (probably many someones) who are willing to go the extra mile to make themselves stand out from the rest of the applicant pool. Being timid about applying only limits your chances of getting a position or gig. A college committee might see something in your resume that calls to them, or an audition panel might hear exactly what they are looking for in your recording. However, you will never know if you do not throw your name into the hat. The more applications that you submit, the greater your chances are of finding a position that will work for you.
   Additionally, an application is a chance for you to be seen and heard. While there may be financial costs to weigh when deciding whether to submit an application or audition, keep in mind the value of performance experience, receiving feedback about your playing, and of course, the added bonus of possibly winning the event. My philosophy has always been to have no expectations – to prepare my best and play like a winner – but ultimately to compete for the comments and feedback. Try to evaluate your performance honestly against your previous best rather than against the other players. Some of my most successful competitions were those that I did not win, but walked away from with excellent comments, contacts, new friends, and experiences.
   Applications are also important for networking in the job market. I do the majority of my teaching online, and one of my current online teaching jobs came to me through an application that I made for adjunct teaching with a local college. I have taken job interviews for colleges where the panel would suggest other openings in which I might have an interest. Even when I was not selected for a position, I had more fuel for the next application and interview. I have been offered orchestra gigs after playing in competitions. I have subbed for new acquaintances after being the runner-up in auditions. Networking is vital to surviving as a musician.

Say Yes
    It might go without saying, but along with the application is the acceptance of the job. I have found that while I am establishing myself in an area, saying yes to any gig that comes my way often opens doors for more job possibilities down the road. Saying no more often leads others to believe that you might be too busy or uninterested in working. Not all jobs are fun and not all jobs pay well, but you never know when someone in the audience or another player in the ensemble might need a flutist for a wedding or a sub for a concert down the road. If you are enthusiastic about the gigs and play well for them, you can pick and choose the ones you would rather play later on after you are well known in the area. Here again, the possibilities begin to open if you apply yourself.

Be Your Own Boss
    One of the most popular career avenues for flutists to pursue is private teaching. A great private teacher can be the major influence that leads a student to a career as a musician or perhaps more importantly to a life-long appreciation of music. Because the private teaching market can be rather dense, I recommend striving for more than just teaching lessons. Hold group classes, studio parties, recitals, and encourage your students to play in performances around the community, such as in bands, competitions, flute societies, etc. If you have enough students, form a studio flute choir. The goal is to ensure that your students are fulfilled, challenged, and active. This spreads the word about your teaching and attracts more prospective students to the studio.
   Starting a studio can be tricky, and again, applying yourself with energy and focus really pays off. Place postcards or business cards at local businesses, start a website, give a free masterclass to the local high school band flute section, and showcase your current students in community performances. You might want to advertise with a local flute club and invite prospective students to be audience members at your next group class or studio recital. Another good idea is to get to know the other teachers in your area. If their studios are full, they may refer students to you, or they might have suggestions on how they got started teaching in the area. Just like a formal job application, the more creative and proactive you are, the more successful you will be at establishing your studio.

Piece Together a Full-time Job
   Just because full-time gigs are few and far between, does not mean that you will twiddle your thumbs for the six hours a day that you are not teaching private students. Many professional musicians have more than one job. They play in orchestras, teach privately, possibly have an adjunct job at a university, take freelance gigs, and do contract work. Personally, all of my work is contract work. I teach for two universities and an online high school, play in a couple per service orchestras, and teach my private students. As a result, I need to buy health insurance and contribute to my retirement account on my own, and it is challenging working from home, balancing schedules, and finding downtime. However, this also allows me to be flexible so I am able to participate in many other musical endeavors like auditions, competitions, flute fairs, lecture-recitals, and so forth.
   Although I have never gone this route, many musicians have a day job that is not music related. Besides the regular paycheck, a big benefit for these musicians is that they have a few hours a day to remove themselves from music, which helps keep their playing fresh and exciting. The hard part might be scheduling gigs and students around work hours or taking time off for auditions or travel for performances. All pros and cons to consider when piecing together your working day.

Be Flexible
   When I was in middle school, my band director asked if I would learn a string instrument to help out with the dwindling school orchestra numbers. I had no interest at all, but my stand partner really wanted to learn the cello and begged me to learn it with her. I agreed. Two weeks later, she had quit, and I was still trying to figure out the bow hold. I ended up liking the cello and took private lessons in high school, went to all-state orchestra (since they take more cellos than flutes), played in the youth orchestra (again, numbers were on my side), and even minored in cello during my years at Peabody.
   Playing cello was always something fun and was never a job priority for me. However, many of my teachers and mentors along the way told me that cello playing would be an asset one day. I did not believe them until I was offered my first full-time teaching job – as a string orchestra director. I am never going to be a professional cellist, but because I had learned more than just the flute, my program flourished, I had fun, and it gave me great full-time teaching experience which led to some of my current positions.

Expand Your Skills
    Think about your strengths both musically and in general. Do you have a skill beyond your major instrument? Do you have a teaching license or experience in peer tutoring, Dalcroze Eurhythmics, Orff Schulwerk, or the Kodaly Method? Are you a leader and organizer? Do you enjoy computers or like to compose or arrange music? Are you a skilled writer or editor? Maybe you have a talent for recording and mixing. Do not be afraid to explore new areas and be flexible.  Online courses, community college classes, masterclasses, summer programs, and seminars are all great ways to expand your knowledge. Allow yourself to exercise those skills and continue to grow because you never know when they will come in handy for a job or lead to new opportunities.
   I have been incredibly fortunate to play the flute in so many unique places with so many fabulous people. When it comes to paying the bills, however, the best gigs for me have been in academia. I currently work for three academic institutions: the North Carolina Virtual Public School, the University of North Carolina at Pembroke, and Rutgers University. None of these positions currently involves flute performance; instead, I teach music appreciation, music theory, and jazz history.
   My qualifications to teach in all these subject areas come from applying myself as a scholar and expanding my skills beyond just playing the flute. I did research, both in school and afterwards on my own, to learn about music theory, musicology, and jazz, so that when asked for a sample lesson or syllabus, I had enough source material, personal contacts, and knowledge in the subject matter to make a cohesive presentation. I have attended a variety of conventions and lectures, read and evaluated textbooks, used college professors as resources, and networked with colleagues in these areas. I also work for the Educational Testing Service (ETS) as a reader for the PRAXIS Music Content exam and the AP Music Theory exam, both of which have taught me enormous amounts about teaching in these areas. The vast majority of current teaching jobs at all levels are not just adjunct, but also academic. The more you broaden your knowledge of a variety of musical subjects, the more appealing you will be to hiring committees.

The Bottom Line
    My successful jobs have all come through perseverance, a staggering number of applications, a willingness to piece together a full day’s work from several contracts, and the flexibility to draw on and apply non-flute skills to these positions. My husband, a freelance violinist and adjunct professor at Methodist University in Fayetteville, North Carolina, and I are comfortable, own a home, and, most importantly, feel that we are putting our musical skills to good use in a way that they are appreciated and valued by our employers. I would encourage all prospective professional musicians to shoot for these goals because at the end of the day, using your skills is what really makes a successful musician in today’s job market.       

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The Shakuhachi /may-2015-flute-talk/the-shakuhachi/ Wed, 29 Apr 2015 22:48:46 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/the-shakuhachi/     The shakuhachi is one of several flutes used in traditional Japanese music and has a rich and colorful history. The flute is made from the very thick-walled root end of a specific variety of bamboo (madake) that is harvested in the wetland areas of China and Japan. It is not a fipple flute but […]

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    The shakuhachi is one of several flutes used in traditional Japanese music and has a rich and colorful history. The flute is made from the very thick-walled root end of a specific variety of bamboo (madake) that is harvested in the wetland areas of China and Japan. It is not a fipple flute but is end blown and, thus, is often mistaken for a type of recorder. The blowing edge is formed by the diagonally cut bamboo and is often reinforced by a small bone or horn inlay.
    The shakuhachi has five open holes and is tuned to a pentatonic scale. Pitches outside of the base scale are achieved by partially covering holes and slightly changing the blowing angle and breath strength. The standard (concert) length shakuhachi is tuned to a D pitch. As it exists today, the shakuhachi is a thoroughly modern instrument that can be played solo or in various ensemble configurations. It is well crafted to play in tune with both Japanese traditional instruments and modern Western instruments. Despite its rather rustic appearance, the shakuhachi is capable of deep, rich sounds. Furthermore, due to its unrefined nature, it lends itself to some very interesting and evocative playing techniques.
    The name, shakuhachi, derives from the length of the standard instrument. A Japanese unit of measure (roughly a foot) is the shaku. The shaku is divided into ten subunits called sun. The word for eight in Japanese is hachi. Hence the name shakuhachi refers to the length of one shaku and hachi sun. The standard length instrument is often called a 1.8 or hasun, an abbreviated pronunciation of hachisun. The instrument comes in a variety of lengths, the most popular being 1.8, 1.6, 2.0, and 2.4. The longer instruments are used for solo playing, and the 1.8 and 1.6 lengths are used in ensemble playing. Generically, all such instruments, of any length, are referred to as shakuhachi. (In the picture on the left are two shakuhachi of different lengths. The longer one is a 2.4 and the shorter is a (standard) 1.8.)


A 1.6 Shakuhachi lying on the sheet music for an ensemble piece composed in the 19th century by Yoshikawa Kengyo II. The notation is Kinko School Shakuhachi notation and the title is Haru no Kyoku (Ode to Spring).

A Brief History
    The shakuhachi made its first appearance in Japan around the eighth century. It came to Japan with an influx of Chinese culture that included the formal Chinese court system of social hierarchy and governing laws. Part of this court system included a type of music and a well-defined court orchestra. The ancestor of the shakuhachi was one of the instruments in this orchestra. It differed from the modern instrument in that it had six holes, was more slender, was lacquered throughout, and was made from a lighter bamboo.
    Although the medieval Japanese court system eventually died out, a form of this type of orchestra still exists today, and a variant of the music is still performed. This music is called gagaku, the contemporary form of which is usually performed with a modern version of the shakuhachi replacing the six holed variety.
    During the years following the adoption of the Chinese court system, several of the instruments included in the court orchestras became popular amongst the common people. Even though the music was quite rarified and intended for only the ears of the ruling class, it seems to have leaked out amongst the working people of the time. Three of the stringed instruments quickly became integrated into regular Japanese society: the koto, shamisen, and biwa. The shakuhachi, however, seems to have stayed within the castle walls.
    Around the end of the ninth century, Japanese court music underwent an extensive renovation. The orchestras were pared down, and the shakuhachi and several other instruments were eliminated from them. Because the instrument had not become known beyond the courts, it seems to have disappeared entirely from Japan at that time.
    Japan experienced several other big influxes of Chinese culture, one of which brought in what would become the Japanese form of Zen Buddhism. By the 13th century, and perhaps as early as the 11th century, monks from Buddhist temples in Japan made pilgrimages to China and brought back  not only religious literature and meditation techniques used in Chinese temples, but also the shakuhachi. At this time monks used the instrument as a tool for meditation that was similar to that of chanting the sutras. It was thought that one could experience kensho (seeing into one’s own nature) by playing chant-based music on the shakuhachi.
    Some of the lore of the period details how a samurai named Yoritake Ryoen reached this state of enlightenment after hearing the sound of the flute following a battle. Under the direction of the Zen master Shinchi Kakushin, Ryoen went on to found a sect devoted to the practice of the shakuhachi. This sect became known as the Fuke sect and played an integral role in the early history of the instrument.
    By the sixteenth century the use of the shakuhachi had spread amongst the general populace. Although it continued to be an instrument of monks, it also took on a more secular role. It became popular in Japanese folk music (minyo) and also rejoined its fellow former court instruments (the koto and shamisen) in classical music (sankyoku) ensembles. Much of this type of music is performed regularly, unchanged, today.
    The late nineteenth and early twentieth century, starting in the Meiji era and extending through the Showa period, saw a strong rise in the influence of the West on all aspects of Japanese culture. So it is not surprising that the music of the shakuhachi also felt this influence. Many Western musical aspects were adopted into Japanese classical compositions for traditional ensembles, which include the koto, shamisen, voice, and shakuhachi.
    Solo shakuhachi pieces, the pieces collected from the temples, began to be written down and practiced in a secular environment. Virtuoso performers on the instrument emerged, and performers and composers began to create new material for the instrument. New schools of playing emerged and began to attract followers.
    Toward the middle of the twentieth century several of these shakuhachi virtuosos traveled and spent time in Europe and North America. Today the instrument is taught both at universities and in independent schools and is played in the traditional manner for both solo and ensemble performances as well as in various non-traditional ways and settings.


On the left: This shows the root end of two shakuhachi. Note the difference in bore opening. This varies from maker to maker.
One the right: This shows the blowing end of two shakuhachi.

The Music
    The shakuhachi is used in various forms of Japanese music, including court music (gagaku), folk music (minyo), small ensemble music (the older style sankyoku and the modern shinkyoku), and the music of the Buddhist tradition (honkyoku). The techniques involved in playing honkyoku music, however, are the ones that people associate most closely with the shakuhachi sound. (To learn more about the details of each of these types of music and how the shakuhachi fits into each framework, the bibliography at the end offers some resources.)
    Honkyoku came about as an attempt to translate Buddhist chanting into something that could be produced on the shakuhachi. As this chant-based music evolved, particularly in the twentieth century, it began to acquire more musical qualities.
    Several practitioners of this music began to add different techniques in order to imbue it with more emotional content as sutra chanting, by its very nature, is a bit static and monotone.
    Dynamics were added since the more modern flutes (whose bores were lacquered with a hardened material) could produce a wide volume range. Note bending and slurring were other added techniques. The shakuhachi lends itself well to these techniques because it has open holes, and the blowing edge allows for a greater amount of movement than can occur with Western flutes. Percussive techniques, taking advantage of the fact that the shakuhachi has relatively large open finger holes, were another addition. Players also incorporated vibrato produced by shaking the head from side to side. They also added overblowing or noise techniques. All of these techniques were present in the original forms of honkyoku, but they were not used nearly to the degree that became popular in the twentieth century.
    Beside chanting, another source of inspiration for the monks was nature sounds. Monasteries were often located in remote areas surrounded by forests, rivers, and mountains, so the monks listened to the sounds of the wind and wild animals. Some pieces of honkyoku are based on the sounds of cranes, deer, and pulsating winds. Monks also wandered into nearby villages and heard festival music. Some of the honkyoku repertoire reflects this as well.
    For most of its existence honkyoku was an oral tradition. The pieces were passed on to new players who listened to and then tried to emulate the more experienced players. In the twentieth century several prominent students of the instrument visited temples and collected pieces. Notations were invented to try to capture all the playing techniques and subtleties of the instrument. Today there is no single notation for this type of music. The notation varies and is usually tied to a particular teacher or school of playing.
    Of the different types of flutes around the world, the shakuhachi seems to be somewhat unique in its close association with a religion. It is a very flexible and evocative instrument capable of a great depth of emotion and demanding a great deal of dedication to learn. The word honkyoku refers to the fact that this music was meant to be internalized. Kyoku refers to music and hon refers to one self (or the first). Roughly translated, honkyoku means “my own music” or “original music.” Whether the music was chant based or nature based, it was created for personal reflection. The twentieth century brought about a slight change to this, freeing the music from the temples and placing it in the performance space; however the personal aspect of shakuhachi playing is still very much present. There are many more fascinating aspects to the shakuhachi, including the various schools of playing, different notations, types of flutes and their sound qualities, and virtuoso players who influenced how the music came to the modern world, to list a few.     

Bibliography
    Below is a collection of book titles, articles, recordings, and websites in no particular order that provide more in-depth information regarding the various aspects of the shakuhachi. This is by no means an exhaustive list. It has also been limited to publications in the English language.
The Shakuhachi a Manual for Learning by Christopher Yohmei Blasdel and Yuko Kamisango. ©1988. Ongaku No Tomo Sha Corp. Tokyo Japan. ISBN 4-276-13351-3
Zen Masters of Japan, The Second Step East by Richard Bryan McDaniel. ©2013. Richard Bryan McDaniel. ISBN978-4-8053-1272-8
The Annals of The International Shakuhachi Society Volume One by Various Authors. Published in 1987. ASIN B000GR4TJA
The Annals of The International Shakuhachi Society Volume Two by Various Authors. ©2005. The International Shakuhachi Society. ISBN 0-9711625-1-4
Blowing Zen Finding an Authentic Life by Ray Brooks. ©2000. Ray Brooks. ISBN 0-915811-85-5
Yearning for the Bell: A Study of Transmission in the Shakuhachi Honkyoku Tradition by Riley Kelly Lee (Doctoral Dissertation). ©1998, Riley Kelly Lee. UMI Dissertation Services UMI Number 9828066
Zen – Katsuya Yokoyama Plays Classical Shakuhachi Masterworks (2DC Set). Original Recording 1976 RCA Records Tokyo Japan. ©1988 WERGO Schallplatten GmbH, Mainz W. Germany.
Shakuhachi Music: A Bell Ringing in the Empty Sky – Goro Yamaguchi. Nonesuch Explorer Series Original Release 1969. ©2007, Nonesuch Records Inc.
Traditional Vocal and Instrumental Pieces: Shakuhachi, Biwa, Koto, Shamisen – Ensemble Nipponia. Nonesuch Explorer Series Original Release 1976. ©2008, Nonesuch Records Inc. The International Shakuhachi Society Website:

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How To Be Teachable /may-2015-flute-talk/how-to-be-teachable/ Wed, 29 Apr 2015 22:33:26 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/how-to-be-teachable/     I was never quite teachable enough for either of my parents, a harpist and a violinist in the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra in England. Each of them wanted, quite naturally, to clone themselves. My father made the first try. He gave me two or three violin lessons, and then his expectations – he had never […]

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    I was never quite teachable enough for either of my parents, a harpist and a violinist in the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra in England. Each of them wanted, quite naturally, to clone themselves.
My father made the first try. He gave me two or three violin lessons, and then his expectations – he had never taught a beginner before – surpassed my abilities. At least with the piano a recognizable musical sound had come out when I pressed a key. The first sounds a student violinist makes are not encouraging.
     “Bloody hell!” My dad would expostulate in frustration. Teaching me to fish and ride a bike had been a great deal easier. It felt bad to disappoint my father, but I just wasn’t getting the hang of the violin.
My mother, having experience with the inexperienced, took a more systematic approach to teaching me her instrument. In her worldview, there could be only one way to play the harp: only one way to hold the fingers, take pressure on the string, and release it toward the heel of the hand. After taking up the harp as a schoolgirl in Ireland to escape her hated violin lessons (we had a common bond there), she made her first BBC broadcasts and accompanied some of Ireland’s finest singers on record while still a teenager. Later, at a music college in England, she learned the French style from an Italian teacher. She expressed pity and disdain for harpers from folk traditions who plucked with their nails or clawed at the harp.
     “We don’t do it that way,” she would insist, with a wry face. “There’s no sound. Only the correct technique can produce a beautiful tone.”
     At the time I had been learning to sing, as a chorister at London’s Westminster Cathedral. Miss Baldock, my teacher, a supremely elegant lady of advanced years, had been a pupil of Enrico Caruso, the global superstar Italian tenor who had been born in the incomprehensibly remote year of 1873. At my first lesson I didn’t even open my mouth; all she taught me was how to stand straight – that is, leaning slightly forward, with my skeleton resting on the balls of my feet, like an athlete poised for action. With this small change in posture I found I could breathe more deeply and sing with less effort. So I could understand my mother’s preoccupation with proper technique as the basis of a fine tone.
     By the age of nine I had fallen in love with the magical spirit-sound of Laurie Beers, Principal Flute of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, and wanted to know how to sing through a flute like that. His solo in the Sicilienne (in G minor – the perfect key for the flute) in Fauré’s Pelléas et Mélisande, Op. 80, at one of the orchestra’s regular concerts in Plymouth, captivated my attention. For me, singing in the cathedral – Gregorian chant, Renaissance polyphony, perhaps a crowd-pleasing classical mass at Christmas or Easter – had become just so much everyday work. Once graduated from Miss Baldock’s teaching and consumed by desire to play the flute, I wanted Mr. Beers as my teacher.
     I was not to know that Laurie Beers’s sound, like Caruso’s singing technique as I had learned it from Miss Baldock, was an echo from a vanishing world. Beers played a wooden Carte 1867 model flute at a time when the invasive species of silver Lot-style Boehm flutes was displacing all other types in Britain. In place of his centered, steady tone, flutists were adopting the shrill and bleaty sounds increasingly required by the international recording industry. He and a few other British professionals held to the old ways, but the conversion was complete at the school level, where nickel had supplanted silver just as silver was edging out wood in the professional world. Where once Beers had trained for a solid ability to sightread difficult passage work, students were now judged by criteria of tone and inflection, in a style, and a narrow range of modern compositions, all quite foreign to the British heritage. Most were using French-model instruments, originally built to play at a lower pitch, that could not play consistently in tune in a British wind section tuned at A=440. Mr. Beers well knew that both he and his outdated instrument represented a passing style and sensibility. On principle, he refused to pass on his knowledge and taste to students whose careers would be held back by them. And so he would not teach me.
     Though I was disappointed, it was just as well I didn’t get to study with a teacher I wanted only to imitate. Instead, my parents entrusted me to a flute teacher willing to do them a favor: John Braddock, another colleague in the Bournemouth orchestra. John played a silver Rudall Carte Boehm flute with a wooden head joint, so he had the best of both worlds. He lived in a big, rambling country house with his wife, who was a cellist in the orchestra and an avid horsewoman, their two sons, and a big smelly hound whose dinner always seemed to be cooking during lessons. He had studied at Kneller Hall, the British military music academy that provided the main route to professional training for wind players in Britain until the mid-20th century. I liked John immensely, and (or because) his teaching was extremely easygoing. The drive to the country, the smells of the dog and his dinners, and my flute lessons all came wrapped into a package that felt like a midweek holiday, or a visit to a favorite and indulgent uncle.
     My mother, on the other hand, would overhear me practicing at home, and couldn’t resist intervening in my dreamy pastime. “What are you practicing that for?” she would interject, “You can already play it! Find your weakest point and make it your strongest! That’s the only way to get better! You do want to get better, don’t you?” Harp or flute, she certainly had a firm idea of how things should be done.
     Taking her advice meant I soon passed out of the beginner stage, whereupon John patted himself on the back and passed me to David Eaton, the orchestra’s second flutist, a young man eager enough to be an active participant in new music festival seminars in Germany. From him I learned sailing as well as Hindemith, so flute lessons were still far from unalloyed drudgery. At the time I was spending Saturdays with the wind training section of the county youth orchestra, with peers who were mostly far more advanced, under county-employed wind teachers instead of easygoing parental friends. There I learned even more about how to attempt things in ways I hadn’t tried before, to look for my mistakes and evaluate, to search for a way to do it better – in other words, to practice and find ways to improve.
     “Start with a passage you can’t play,” one of my coaches suggested, in a tone that was helpful rather than severe. “Break it down into pairs of notes. Play each pair very slowly, until all the fingers are working perfectly in unison with breath and tongue. Then practice each pair fast, with a pause between pairs. Then do the same, except grouping the notes in threes. Then fours. Fives. Then backwards and upside down.” I worked through this routine a couple of times one day, and a few more the next. All at once a section of the Bach E major sonata that had made me break out in a cold sweat began to feel like a pleasure to play. Well, that was a rewarding feeling! I had found a way to dispel my father’s disappointment and my mother’s critical comments – as well as a key to continual improvement in my playing that brought me a renewable sense of satisfaction.
     I soon got another chance to put my self-teaching techniques to use. Fred Pain, another ex-military musician, directed the school band from the conductor’s desk (bands play sitting down in southern England), but with a silver cornet in his hand. Mr. Pain played the trumpet too, but rarely. That instrument was in C, while all the band instruments were, like the cornet, in flat keys. Among the B flat and E flat clarinets, saxophones, trombones, euphoniums and tubas, and horns in F, only the flutes were in C. Many of the parts we played – mostly opera overtures and suites popular in the 19th century, when military bands were far more common than symphony orchestras – were written for D flat flutes. Where a nineteenth-century band flutist saw a blank key signature, he (they were all male in those days) fingered in C major; where I saw the same signature, I was playing in seven sharps, a half step higher than written. This meant putting in a lot of extra time, when I might otherwise have been riding my bike or going to the beach, to study the scales of C sharp and D flat, and struggling to transpose a semitone at sight. Though I had no thought of giving up, I felt way out of my depth.
     Pretty soon I realized I wouldn’t have to feel this way if I filled a vacant chair in the band for tenor saxophone (in B flat). Although the inventor had cleverly designed this instrument to use essentially the same fingering as the Boehm flute, it played an octave and a second below the written pitch – but at least I could finger the notes as written. Taking up the sax involved learning something new, but by now I knew how to approach learning new things without fear. Feeling as if I had bucked the system but held on to my music, I taught myself to play with nary a lesson. And that is how I became a sax player, without giving up the flute.
     After a couple of years of this I moved to a school where there was no need to keep playing the saxophone, but continued flute lessons in pursuit of a final certificate. My new flute teacher, who wasn’t even a flutist, expected something much more like learning by rote. Denis Hartley had studied clarinet at military music school, like John Braddock. He never gave me specific technical instructions or made suggestions on interpretive matters: he saw his job quite simply as getting me through my Grade VIII Associated Board exam, the final, rigorous test in the series of pre-music-college national examinations in Britain.
“E flat minor, melodic, 3 octaves,” he would bark on marching into the studio, and there was no excuse for not knowing by heart this or any of the 24 sets of scales and arpeggios he might call on me to deliver from memory.
     Mr. Hartley didn’t need to march me round the drill yard if I fluffed a scale: all he had to do was look at me for the embarrassment of imperfection (I never let it happen more than once or twice) to turn my ears red. Fortunately by now I knew I was the teacher as well as the student. I had at last become teachable, recognizing that the only person who could teach me was me. Any other person in the room was only there to keep me up to the mark, rather as the audience in a concert hall is there to hear the performance.
     I went on to apply this insight at university, in postgraduate music studies, in professional concert life, in business, and in scholarship. I still use it when approaching anything new. The teachers who passed on to me how to approach and conquer new difficulties gave me something of value far beyond music: the desire to listen, learn, and apply; to discover and grow. I was lucky enough to have a very unconventional and varied musical training, and to be thwarted in any instinct to simply imitate my teachers. All they taught me was how to check what I was doing against my highest aspirations and work to get closer, day by day, and step by step.

 

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The Call of the Flute: Wendy Webb Kumer on Teaching, Playing, and Flute Choirs. /may-2015-flute-talk/the-call-of-the-flute-wendy-webb-kumer-on-teaching-playing-and-flute-choirs/ Sat, 25 Apr 2015 02:24:48 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/the-call-of-the-flute-wendy-webb-kumer-on-teaching-playing-and-flute-choirs/     Wendy Webb Kumer has served the Pittsburgh Flute Club in every capacity and has been secretary of the Moyse Society and the National Flute Association. Kumer is the founder of The Flute Academy and regularly organizes flute choir performances with the Pittsburgh Symphony. With more than 40 years of teaching experience, she is devoted […]

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    Wendy Webb Kumer has served the Pittsburgh Flute Club in every capacity and has been secretary of the Moyse Society and the National Flute Association. Kumer is the founder of The Flute Academy and regularly organizes flute choir performances with the Pittsburgh Symphony. With more than 40 years of teaching experience, she is devoted to flutists of all ages and levels and sincerely believes that world peace can be attained if there is a flute in every household. Kumer is a graduate of Duquesne University (Bernard Goldberg) and Carnegie Mellon University (David Cramer and Carole Morgan). She also attended Marcel Moyse’s seminars in Vermont. Kumer has played professionally in Pittsburgh area orchestras and has taught at Duquesne, Carnegie Mellon, and Mercyhurst College. She is currently on the faculty of West Liberty University.

What led you to start The Flute Academy?
    By the age of 20, I already had a large studio. I knew that teaching flute was what I wanted to do. In January 1980 I started teaching at Duquesne with one student. The pay was $8.50 per hour and my parking was $4.00 per hour. After taxes, my paycheck was a wash, but my foot was in the door. In my youthful enthusiasm, I intended to create a flute empire with my community studio, and with the university students we would share resources to host guest flutists, present recitals, and start flute choirs. For the next 20 years, that is exactly what I did.
    Within five years, I was able to recruit 12 flute majors including graduate students. We hosted numerous guest artists, including Lady Jeanne and Sir James Galway, William Bennett, Trevor Wye, Jeanne Baxtresser, Carol Wincenc, Bonita Boyd, Leone Buyse, Jonathan Snowden, Robert Dick, Per Oien, and Jim Walker. Also during that time Julius Baker was teaching at Carnegie Melon, so these were rich flute days in Pittsburgh. Many of my students (Karl Barton, Amy Orsinger Whitehead, Pamela Murchison, Dan Parasky, Lindsay Leach-Sparks, Torin Olsen, Gay Kahkonen, Megan Neal, T. J. Wible, and more) from those early days have built successful careers themselves. 
    In the mid-1990s the Duquesne music administration shifted away from having freelance musician as adjunct professors and began hiring Pittsburgh Symphony members to teach. Since the mid-1980s I had been teaching at Duquesne’s City Music Center where I had started community flute choirs and summer flute camps. So, I reinvented myself and dove into expanding my community student base and my middle, high school, and adult flute choirs at Duquesne. In 2000 another restructuring occurred at Duquesne and flutists could study privately only through the City Music Center where the tuition for a 30-minute lesson was a prohibitive $50. This got me thinking about creating a flute haven where flutists could study, practice, teach, play in flute choirs, have masterclasses, work with guest artists, attend recitals, participate in chamber ensembles and have access to recording facilities, all for a reasonable tuition rate. That spring, I was called for jury duty where I sat idly for days with only my laptop as a companion. Thus, The Flute Academy was imagined, the schedule created, and we opened in September 2001.

How is The Flute Academy organized?
    It is a community of flute teachers who are like-minded and believe in the vision of flutists of all ages and levels of development getting together to make beautiful music, to learn, to grow, and to study. The teachers set up their own policies, calendars, lesson fees, and keep their own account books. Very low or no rent is charged if a teacher’s students enroll in the flute choir and other classes (music theory, ear training, and chamber music). Frequently we have interns from Carnegie Mellon and Duquesne who work with the flute choirs and classes to get some on-the-job training while still in college. Although the interns are paid only a small stipend, they are building a resume and gaining valuable experience. Several times a year, flute vendors come to The Flute Academy to show and sell instruments.
    We are located at First Trinity Lutheran Church in the Shadyside section of Pittsburgh, adjacent to the University of Pittsburgh campus and within walking distance of Carnegie Mellon. Since I attend church there, the pastor and the congregation allow us to use their vacated school building. We have free parking and huge spaces for lessons, classes, and rehearsals. To get us started, I bought a grand piano for the sanctuary, some recording equipment, a high capacity copier, a subscription to Smart Music, an iPad, and had a business phone installed. As a member of the congregation, I make regular donations for the utilities, overall maintenance, and space usage. The Flute Academy is under the supervisory board of the Augsburg Academy, an educational branch of our congregation and is covered under the church’s liability insurance policy. The tuition from The Flute Academy students pays the staff, expenses, and a donation to the church each semester.
    Lessons are taught each weekday after school. On any given day there may be piano lessons in the sanctuary, flute lessons in the studios, students using the recording studio for auditions and competitions, and of course, students finishing homework while waiting for lessons. We have free Wi-Fi for all to use. On Saturdays, there are piano, flute and violin lessons all day. The middle school flute choir, Flute Loops, and the high school flute choir, Flutations, rehearse for semester-end concerts, and  the adult flute choir, City Flutes, meets every other Saturday. There are also Saturday chamber music rehearsals, makeup lessons, group classes, and theory and ear training.
    We keep tuition reasonable so many flutists can afford to participate. Flute choir is $110 for students and $75 for adults for a 10-week semester. For the other classes the tuition is $100. Our goal is to have everyone want to come back and play their flutes for the rest of their lives.

Do most of your students enter competitions?
    Goodness no! The Flute Academy mission is to provide quality music instruction through the teaching of the flute with the goal of students becoming life-long music lovers and concert attendees. We teach students of all ages, abilities, and interest levels. Each student I teach is my favorite one, ever. However, many of the students do enter and win competitions. 
    We have had numerous road trips with 15-passenger vans full of Kumer Kids of all ages competing in PMTA, MTNA, PMEA, and National Flute Association events. One student, T.J. Wible, won the MTNA National High School Woodwind competition in Salt Lake City and was a finalist in both the National Flute Association High School Soloist and piccolo competitions. From my studio I have had approximately 100 high school flutists win the NFA High School Flute Choir competition over the past 30 years.
    For some students, entering a competition can be a motivation tool. If their skill level, practice habits and personality align in a proper proportion, I urge them to try out for something. If this appeals to them and it works as a motivator, we are off and running. About 15% of my flute students thrive in this environment. Some love learning the music, recording it, but never submitting the applications, and that is fine too. Part of my scrutiny into who is suited to this curriculum is a student’s (and family’s) attitude and definition of winning. We define winning as playing up to your expectations and noticing improvement since the last performance. We enjoy and often learn from reading judges’ comments but are not bound by them. Placing first or last is arbitrary and is not the goal.
 
Do you teach adults?
    Yes. When I first started teaching, I was not keen on teaching adults. I could not relate to where they were in their lives with grown children and now returning to the flute after a long hiatus. I liked them, but didn’t get them. It is amazing how a few decades can change one’s perspective. I cherish my current, adult re-entry students. Their stories are fascinating because of their life experiences. I love that they still feel connected to the flute and flute music. This is one of the reasons why our 35-member adult flute choir, City Flutes, is so vibrant.

Organizing and conducting flute choirs has been a huge part of your life. What do you think is the future for flute choirs? 
    Flute choirs are our future. Check out the big flute choirs on YouTube (Netherlands Flute Academy, Korea and Japan). In 2006, I persuaded the National Flute Association to allow the 200-member Pittsburgh Flute Club flute choir to play as a pre-concert event on the Saturday evening gala with orchestra. Flutists from middle-school age through senior citizens played Kirk Vogel’s Secret Language of Snow to a packed audience. This is what it is all about.
Later that fall, more than 100 flutists from the Pittsburgh Flute Club played Irish music in venues around the symphony hall before the concert appearance of Sir James Galway and the Pittsburgh Symphony. Later that evening 35 flutists played the Galway Piper by David Overton on stage with Lady Jeanne and Sir James Galway. In 2009, the Pittsburgh Flute Choir (75 flutists) performed at the NFA Convention in New York City. This past fall, 150 flutists performed in the lobby of Heinz Hall just before a concert in which Pittsburgh Symphony principal flutist, Lorna McGhee, performed the Nielsen Concerto. 
    My next project is to gather as many as possible Pittsburgh Flute Club flutists and friends to perform at the Smithsonian National Zoo in Washington, DC on Saturday, August 15 during the NFA convention. We will perform Joe’s Treat by Gay Kahkonen, which was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Flute Club, and Kathy Blocki is also commissioning a piece. We are featuring Joe Bonadio, a soon-to-be 92-year-old beginner flutist. Bonadio attends everything flute-related within driving distance of Pittsburgh. Lorna McGhee has also promised to drop by for our zoo concert.

What was it like to study with Bernard Goldberg and Marcel Moyse?
    Goldberg’s teaching was heavily influenced by Georges Barrère and Marcel Moyse. His curriculum included a firm technical foundation starting with the 17 Big Daily Exercises by Taffanel et Gaubert and etudes by Berbiguier and Andersen. He taught the French solos as well as compositions by Handel, Bach, Mozart, Kuhlau, and Demersseman. For tone color and phrasing he used the Moyse De La Sonorite and both the 24 Little Melodies with Variations and the 25 Melodies with Variations, in addition to Tone Development through Interpretation. He was a genius at teaching orchestral excerpts, as you might expect.
    At Goldberg’s suggestion, I went to study with Marcel Moyse in Vermont for four summers. This was a life-changing event. I was in attendance when Moyse celebrated his 90th birthday with an orchestra concert (conducted by Blanche Honegger Moyse). Classes were held in his grandson’s art barn in the woods. Huge 1970s colorful oil paintings were stacked against all the walls, and we sat on folding chairs for at least five hours twice a day.
    Moyse limped (slowest gait, ever) into the plywood building and made his way to the front, breathing loudly with lungs full of congestion. We all knew that every breath could be his last. But, as soon as he seated himself in his padded, rolling office chair, took a sip of what he proclaimed loudly as “whiskey,” a flutist or woodwind chamber ensemble would begin to play. Suddenly he was 40 years younger. He literally bubbled with life and energy. It was remarkable how Moyse danced and waved about. His gesturing was historic. His teaching was inspired, deep, insightful, and all about the color, phrase, composers’ intentions, and conveying the deepest meaning in your playing. He could be brutal, but it wasn’t personal. He was simply passionate about music. My dream during those heady days at the Moyse seminars was to do my part in continuing his legacy of teaching with my students. I have been blessed with many students, years of opportunities, and a thoroughly enjoyable and satisfying career.


*     *     *


Favorite Flute Choir Repertoire
    Since most middle school flutists study in a public school band program, they are used to playing in unison. To become independent rhythmically and harmonically, I introduce students to flute choir literature that is in three or four parts. I carefully mark the breaths for each part and have them play each of the other parts at one time or another. If a student has a piccolo, I add piccolo on the top part. If a flutist is large enough to play alto or bass flute, we may add them into the mix also. The Flute Loops middle school flute choir also plays several pieces that they can perform with the high school group and then a few additional pieces they can play with the three combined flute choirs, including the adult ensemble.
    The three combined choirs’ repertoire this spring includes: King’s Processional by Alexandra Molnar-Suhajda (self published), Beckett’s Whisper by Ron Korb (Nourse Wind), Brazilian Alleluia by Ralph Manuel (arranged by Wendy Kumer), and Colonel Bogey’s March by Alford (ALRY). Flutations and City Flutes combination repertoire includes: Flute 66 by Jonathan Cohen (self published), Fanfare 36 by Kelly Via (Nourse Wind), Unexpected Journeys by James-Michael Sellers (Flute.net), and Souvenir de Porto Rico by Gottschalk/Davis (Fall House Press).

Growing Up with Art
    Wendy Kumer is the daughter of two graduates from the Art Institute of Pittsburgh. She thought everyone’s parents sketched restaurant patrons on napkins when out for dinner and designed elaborate covers for their children’s school projects. Wendy’s father, Frank Webb, a commercial art studio owner, studied watercolor painting in Maine every summer while she was growing up. His teacher, Edgar A. Whitney, was in his late eighties and led painting critique classes in the woods. The similarities between the painter’s classes and Moyse’s class were remarkable. Eventually Frank Webb became the teacher and now in his late eighties, teaches watercolor painting all over the world. Google Frank Webb to see his use of design, color, shapes, and textures – visual responses reflecting Moyse’s beliefs about musicality.

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The Pros and Cons of Competitions /may-2015-flute-talk/the-pros-and-cons-of-competitions/ Fri, 24 Apr 2015 22:03:57 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/the-pros-and-cons-of-competitions/     I have to be honest right up front. I have mixed feelings about the value of competitions. They were few and far between when I was growing up. One competed for a specific chair in the band or orchestra, and there was a certain level of competition when applying for scholarships to college, but […]

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    I have to be honest right up front. I have mixed feelings about the value of competitions. They were few and far between when I was growing up. One competed for a specific chair in the band or orchestra, and there was a certain level of competition when applying for scholarships to college, but competitions as we know them today had not developed to the extent that they have now. The Geneva Competition, created in 1939, did not include flutes until years later, and there were no other international competitions.
    My distrust of competition stems from several factors. First, the very act of trying to perform better than everyone else negates the purpose of art in the first place. Musical artistry is not a game or team sport. Flute playing is not downhill skiing, the parallel bars, or the 100-meter dash. Whether musical artistry should be exposed to a carnival atmosphere is a serious question for me. We can, however, learn an important lesson from the field of athletics. It is most easily observed during the Summer Olympics in most of the individual events. The level of concentration necessary is clearly demonstrated on the faces of the athletes, and that kind of focus should be in evidence on our concert stages as well, although I don’t think it is there very often.
    Second, my pedagogical foundation says that students should learn and sharpen their techniques from a thorough exploration of all scales, arpeggios, and etudes. Repertoire, while ultimately the main destination, is the icing on the cake. When flutists learn their basic technique from scales and arpeggios, they develop an even, balanced technique in all keys. When they learn their basic technique from repertoire, they develop a strong technique in some keys (those keys represented by the repertoire they have learned) and a weak technique in others. Preparing for competitions takes time away from the basic practice time, and scales and arpeggios fall by the wayside, neglected for more time on the competition requirements.
    This total immersion in specific compositions to the exclusivity of others is detrimental to the musical exposure to all style periods that students should be experiencing. Entire years can be devoted to a handful of works required for specific competitions, while students neglect the scales and arpeggios, supporting etudes, and repertoire that they should learn to attain an even technique in all keys. 
    On the plus side, I have to admit that competitions are motivational. Students practice more because they perceive the goal that hangs out in front of them like the proverbial carrot on a stick. Participating in competitions puts players in a position to learn numerous life lessons. When I was teaching at DePaul, after a competition I would ask students at their next lesson what they had learned. Then we discussed how their performance went, what was good and what wasn’t, was their preparation thorough, etc. My philosophy was if they learned something from the process, it was not a waste of time. Growth is learning. If they learned something, either about themselves or about the music, the entire experience was valuable.
    Participation in competitions can include networking, meeting other flutists and perhaps even interaction with the judges. If the judges are impressed, there is no telling what the future might hold. Winning a national competition can jumpstart a career. There is no argument with that. The problem is that there can only be one winner. What is the message to all of those players who do not win? If they leave thinking, “I’m not good enough,” an injustice has been done. It is our responsibility to prepare students to accept the odds and understand that they probably won’t win. The mindset that students enter a competition with is crucial to a healthy outcome. If they expect to win, they may be in for trouble. If they expect to learn, they are in a good place and will probably live to play another day.
    I know of many fine teachers who teach “to the competition” and their students routinely win. Whether this is good or bad is up to you to decide. I contend that those players who compete learn that particular repertoire extremely well. They also learn how to handle stress and perform under pressure. They may also learn how to perform from memory.
    At the end of it all, how complete are their backgrounds as flutists? Have they learned all of the major solo pieces? Can they play with equal facility in F-sharp major and G minor? Do they understand the difference between phrasing in the Baroque and musical expression in the Romantic era? In other words, are they complete musicians or have they learned specific pieces by parroting their teachers and working toward a specific competition? If you feel you may be a product of the competition craze, I would love to hear your story. Was your background affected by working toward competition requirements rather than developing a thorough musical technique? Alternatively, do you feel competitions improved your playing in significant ways? You can write to me at vjicha2@gmail.com.    

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Senioritis, Burnout, Exhaustion /may-2015-flute-talk/senioritis-burnout-exhaustion/ Fri, 24 Apr 2015 22:00:12 +0000 https://theinstrumenta.wpengine.com/uncategorized/senioritis-burnout-exhaustion/     As we go into the summer months, you may have experienced a version of senioritis, burnout, or sheer exhaustion. You may have played your last concert of the spring, played a final jury, taken or taught your last lesson of the school year, finished a term paper or thesis project, or simply completed […]

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    As we go into the summer months, you may have experienced a version of senioritis, burnout, or sheer exhaustion. You may have played your last concert of the spring, played a final jury, taken or taught your last lesson of the school year, finished a term paper or thesis project, or simply completed a large project at work. The main issue is you haven’t been practicing like you should, bad habits have crept into your playing, and frankly you are too tired to do much about them. You aren’t alone. This happens to the best of us. The question is: “How do you rejuvenate your playing?”


Assessment
    The first step is to have your flute checked by a repairman. A year of playing wears on the pads and can affect the total adjustment of the flute. A COA (clean, oil, and adjust) will put your flute in top playing order. If it has been longer than three years since the last COA, do not be surprised if the flute may need a complete overhaul. A well-seating flute makes everything else easier to achieve. 
    The next step is to assess yourself. Think about your sleep, eating, and exercise habits of late. You know what to do in these areas, so make a schedule and get back on track. 

Listen to Something Different
    The first thing to go for me is my tone. It starts to sound tired and predictable. Predictability is not bad in itself, but when I begin playing passages without a lot of thought in a generic way, I know I should do something. Listening to other instrumentalists helps me more than listening to other flutists. This year I have enjoyed studying and listening to two CDs of the Sonatas & Partitas for Violin Solo, BWV 1001-1006. The first is by Hamburg-born violinist Christian Tetzlaff. His recording was recommended to me by an early music specialist who thought Tetzlaff’s playing was a perfect blend of the modern school of violin playing with early music practices. Since that is what performers who play early music on modern instruments are trying to do, I listened with interest to these recordings. 
    The other recording I found inspirational was by Chris Thile, who played these same works on the mandolin. I was introduced to this recording while listening to public radio. When the announcer said the Bach would be played on the mandolin, my first thought was, “Almost anything can be transcribed, but should it be?” However, as I listened, I became fascinated with Thile’s phrasing and tonal inflection. Almost immediately my performance of the Bach A Minor Partita had new energy and vitality. Start a listening project of performers and music that are not well-known to you. I guarantee you will be pleased with the results.
    To improve your melodic playing, listen to all the Schubert Lieder with the score. If you want to understand the sonata cycle, listen to string quartets by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. You can learn to blend with other woodwind instruments through recordings of the Philadelphia Woodwind Quintet – some of the best woodwind ensemble playing around.  
    To breathe new life into a tired tone, with the embouchure hole level, finger a low D and overblow to a middle D and then on to the A in the second octave. Once you can play this series of three notes easily and accurately, practice picking off the A until you can reliably play it without slurring up the harmonic series from the low D. Memorize the position of the lips and embouchure needed to play this note. Keeping the embouchure in that position, slowly play a slurred gruppetto (A, B, A, G#, A) with a constant vibrato. Hang the jaw and use your breath to spin an imaginary grape or a small plum positioned in your mouth. Try to achieve as much ring in the sound as you can. A dynamic of mf or f works best. Make this a new core sound from which to practice scales, arpeggios, seventh chords and etudes. Repeat using the chromatic notes in the first octave (Eb through C# in the second octave). 

Teach or Play Some New Music
    For about thirty years early in my teaching career, I taught the Handel sonatas. When I had a job playing background music, I played the Handel sonatas. Then one day, I realized I needed to teach and play something else because my teaching and playing of these works had become tired and boring. I explored sonatas by German, French, and Italian Baroque composers and discovered some gems in the repertoire. I began teaching the Telemann 12 Fantasias on a regular basis, and with the new music, I found new life in my teaching and playing. I am still vacationing from Handel’s gems, but one day I will return to them. 
    A good way to find new music is to download the repertoire requirements for all of the National Flute Association competitions and learn the music before attending the convention. Then attend the competition finals and compare your interpretations with those of the finalists and winners. If you have  favorite flute composers, search the catalog for other pieces by them that you might enjoy. The more works you know by composers, the better you will perform their music. 
    For a healthy mental approach, rotate etude books so the music remains fresh. My favorite rotation includes works by Andersen, Berbiguier, Boehm, Altes, Castérède, Karg-Elert, Bozza, Furstenau, Souss-man, Koehler, Paganini, and the Bach Studies. Other daily exercise books that are beneficial to improve performance especially in the area of tonal homogeneity throughout the range are ones by Reichert, Maquarre, Barrère, and Wood. If you play in a flute choir, schedule a sightreading rehearsal to read one new piece after another. Volunteer to play the contra, bass, alto, or piccolo to experience a new part of the score. Get out of your comfort zone. 

Play with Different Musicians
    One of the goals of being a great orchestral or chamber musician is being able to know how any colleague will play a passage so that you can perfectly match it. Often by the end of a season, your colleagues may have become as bored with your playing as you are of theirs. Many orchestral players find new horizons by playing in a summer music festival such as the Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra just outside Jackson Hole, Wyoming or the Sun Valley Summer Symphony in Sun Valley, Idaho. Both of these orchestras are comprised of personnel from major US orchestras. A summer masterclass or camp also allows you to explore new musical opportunities. (See Flute Talk’s annual list of summer masterclasses, festivals and camps at www.flutetalkmagazine.com)
    Another option is to plan a chamber series where you play a different genre of music. For example, if you primarily play in a woodwind quintet during the year, organize a flute, cello, and piano trio to explore that repertoire. Playing with piano will sharpen equal temperament tuning skills, and performing with a string player will remind you how nice it is to have a bow rather than the breath. My tennis teacher told me to always play tennis with someone better than me. The same is true in playing chamber music. 
    One day I took my son to his horn lesson. Usually his teacher’s home was perfectly kept with nothing out of place. However, that day there were at least 100 CDs spread here and there on the floor next to the stereo. It was such an unusual occurrence that I asked what was going on. He said that he had been practicing the Brahms Horn Trio with the various CDs. He commented, “When I play with the CDs, I get to play with much better musicians than I usually get to play with. This gives me insight into new ideas about phrasing, tone color, and intonation.” This is a great idea which I follow regularly. 

Enjoy Another Art Genre
    Several times during my studies with Joseph Mariano at the Eastman School of Music, Mariano suggested a walk down East Avenue would improve my imagination. This happened on days when my phrasing was humdrum and my tone was tired. He was correct, as always, and it was months later before I realized that each day he too either drove or walked down East Avenue to get from his home to the Eastman School. No doubt this avenue had helped him with his inspiration too.  
    Rochester, New York’s famed East Avenue was or had been home to many prominent citizens, including George Eastman, founder of Kodak, James Goold Cutler, first president of Western Union and inventor of the Cutler Mail Chute, and Hiram Sibley, an industrialist. The Italianate, Greek Revival, Georgian, Queen Anne, and Prairie School style mansions were designed by America’s leading architects. A walk down this street was a lesson in form and proportion, and of course, light and shadow. I especially liked to take this stroll in the fall so I could shuffle down the sidewalk through the several inches of newly fallen leaves. I delighted in the sound of the leaves crackling under my feet. A stroll down East Avenue was certainly for the senses.
    Mariano’s wife was a painter, as he would later become in retirement. Whenever there was a show at the Memorial Art Gallery/Cutler Union, he encouraged me to attend. When I about to leave on a three-month orchestral tour with the Eastman Philharmonia to Europe, the Middle East, Poland, and Russia, he had a list of paintings I should be sure to see. He knew that art cannot be done in a vacuum and to do art well you have to feed the senses. So whether it is architecture, paintings, sculpture, a book of fiction, poetry, seeing a play or film, nourish your brain and before long your playing will be inspired and your brain stimulated. 

If All Else Fails
    For years I have kept a list of how creative people get their creative juices going each day. Moss Hart, the Broadway playwright, writes in his memoir Act One about completing his first day of work with new writing partner George S. Kaufman. Before Hart left, he asked Kaufman if there was anything else he should do, and Kaufman instructed him to break all the tips of the pencils in the jar. The next morning Hart asked Kaufman how he would like to begin the day, and Kaufman said, “Sharpen the pencils.” Evidently, the sound of the hand-grinding of the pencil sharpener spurred Kaufmann’s creative writing skills. I later read that W. Somerset Maugham started each writing session by writing his name over and over again in cursive. Some writers, including composers, say they get their best ideas in the shower. I find vacuuming does the same for me. Hopefully one of these ideas will help you enter the summer months as a rejuvenated, creative teacher and performer.

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