Hands
    Since our hands are so much closer together on the piccolo, make sure that you are not adding extra tension in either the hands, shoulders, neck, or arms. It helps to remember to balance the piccolo between your left knuckle joint and right thumb, as opposed to holding the instrument. Keep the fingers as close to the keys as possible as this diminishes excess finger motion and increases efficiency of technique.
    I find that practicing trills is an excellent way to work on light, quick, low finger motion. It is impossible to raise your fingers too high off the keys when executing a quick trill. The trill exercise in Taffanel & Gaubert’s 17 Big Daily Exercises is an excellent specific study.
    Because of the piccolo’s small size, I find it tempting to raise my right shoulder slightly when playing. Be sure to keep that shoulder in its proper relaxed position, lower than you might think. Don’t allow it to make friends with your earlobe!
    For this compressed practice schedule, I recommend 10 minutes of technical practice – either an etude (there are many fabulous sources to choose from) or daily study of patterned scales from the Taffanel & Gaubert or Moyse books.

Alternate Fingerings
    Lastly, I find that knowledge of alternate fingerings is a wonderful technique specific to the piccolo. I use alternates in my flute playing as well, but they are different fingerings than those I use on the piccolo. Also, the piccolo’s problem notes are slightly different from the flute’s. I use more alternates on flute to lower pitch at a louder dynamic. Alternates on piccolo help me most when I am playing extremely softly.
    Spending a few minutes each day working on fingering options for some of the more unstable notes on your instrument will save you a lot of headaches down the road. I often use several different choices available for the same pitch depending on the dynamic, the color I want, and who I am blending with in a chord. Knowing the tendencies of the alternates makes me ready for any given situation.
    With just a little time each day, this routine will quickly make you a stronger piccolo player.         

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    An excellent book to use for this slow and loving process is 24 Petites Etudes Mélodiques by Marcel Moyse. Work mainly on the themes of #1, #6, and #8. That would be a good start.
    Slowly work without nerves or frustration, listening to your fingers. That’s what I refer to as finger phrasing. Of course, when you feel in control of your addiction to noisy technique, you can apply what you have learned with care to Bach Adagios, Mozart Andantes, and all the music we love.
    Obviously, a little snap to help a difficult note along is a good thing, and finger-snapping staccato with no sound, required by some contemporary composers, is a necessity. I don’t think, however, that constant slam-and-squeeze is a sane technical and musical idea. The flute is not a percussion instrument. It’s like a cat: when you pat it, it purrs. But when you brutalize it, watch out for bites and scratches.

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Playing Second Flute
     Another flutist commented that she had learned to play second flute. On the surface this may not seem to be a lot, but it is a huge accomplishment. The roll of a second flutist is to compliment and support the first player. The first player gets to make the choices about dynamics, tone color, tempo, style, vibrato, and length of a note, and the second flutist’s job is to implement those choices, whether they agree with them or not.
     At Sewanee the flutists rotate between playing first flute or assistant, second flute or assistant, and piccolo. Within an hour-long concert, a flutist will be the leader on one composition and a follower on the next. The daily coached chamber music sessions also present the opportunity for students to learn how to be a supporting member of an ensemble and also play the solo lines – ideas that carry over to orchestral playing as well.
     Most students were surprised to learn that there are three levels of each of the following dynamics: pp, p, mp, mf, f, ff. There is the solo p that is the loudest, the accompanying p that is the softest, and the section or tutti p, which is in between. This certainly puts the burden on each individual to play at the correct dynamic level. Learning to use your ears is the goal.

Style Period Considerations
     Several of the younger students knew that the composers they were performing lived in varying historical times, but how this knowledge related to musical style and the flute was a mystery. This is not uncommon for flutists today, as most perform in a band or wind ensemble where the repertoire is predominantly contemporary.
     On the white board I wrote the names of the four major style periods in which the flute is involved – the Baroque (1600–1750), Classic Era (1750–1827), Romantic (1800–1900) and Contemporary (1900–present). Under each period I wrote the names of the major composers. During chamber music sessions, as we performed a composition from one of the style periods, we discussed the characteristics of that style.
     For example, in the Baroque, when composers indicated dynamics, they used either piano or forte. During the Classical Era, six dynamic markings were used: pp, p, mp, mf, f, ff. During the Romantic period ppp and fff were added. In the contemporary era, there may be a dynamic under each note. A musician can almost tell when a piece was written by the use of the dynamics.
     In connecting notes, we used the terms glued and unglued. In the treatise On the Playing of the Flute (1752) J. J. Quantz wrote, “The notes must not appear to be glued together.” I related that a famous harpsichordist, when asked about note length, replied that the note length should be as if you were playing each note with one finger. This natural separation is what we should strive for in articulated Baroque music.
     Closer to the Romantic period of music, the notes are more glued together. Learning this distinction is a big step in becoming an accomplished musician. We also discussed that Baroque and Classical music relate strongly to dancing; the strength of the beat rule should be followed. Musicians call this “coming from the beat.” In playing Romantic music, the music is about singing and “going to the beat.”

Practice
     Most of the students already had a lesson/practice notebook when they arrived. However, they still were not always sure what they should practice and what practice technique to use for a specific passage.
     Referencing the Robert Jourdain book Music, the Brain and Ecstasy, we explored eye movement when reading one line of music. Because the human eye sees in a one-inch fixation or segment, chunking followed by a rest is a good practice technique to use.
     Chunking music three times a day for five days is the best plan to learn a difficult passage quickly. On the sixth day, play the passage at performance tempo. Week after week a camp student expressed his surprise at how well the chunking theory worked.

Posture
     Many of the students had not realized that the flute is played asymmetrically. This means we should stand with the left foot in front (12:00) and the right foot in back comfortably pointed to approximately 3:00. Another way to think of this setup is to stand as if you are serving a tennis ball. In relationship to the music stand, the body is turned to the right about 45 degrees and the head is turned to the left facing the music stand. Sitting in a chair, follow the same rules, only the chair should be turned 45 degrees to the right for comfort’s sake. The flute is balanced parallel to the music stand. I insisted that each flutist had his own music and music stand, which made more room between each flutist possible. One end-of-the flute in front and the next flute in back, as in many bands, is not desireable.

Vibrato
     A student from France was a lovely player, but her tone lacked vibrato. I asked if the flutist professors at her local conservatoire taught vibrato and she said no. After practicing a week of vibrato exercises George style, she played with fantastic expressive vibrato. She was excited to return to her orchestra and play with vibrato.
     Teaching vibrato is simple: start on the headjoint with hah, hah, hah, rest staccato until you are comfortable. Then alternate a set of staccato hah, hah, hah, rest with a set of slurred hah, hah, hah, rest.
     The American flutists found it interesting that the word legato in Europe means to slur. So each time I would instruct: slur two-tongue two, I would follow with legato two-tongue two. Exploring cultural differences was a valuable experience. 

Plan to Attend a Summer Camp Now
     I write this article about my experiences with the 2010 Sewanee Summer Music Festival Flute class to inspire you or your students to attend a similar camp or masterclass next summer. October is a good month to research what camps are available. (Check the March 2010 Flute Talk Masterclass/
Camp Directory for ideas, also available online.)
     Make an audition C.D. in November, and submit the application, financial aid forms, C.D., and letters of recommendation in December. Students who apply early are most often the ones who are accepted and receive scholarship assistance. If you are a flute teacher, October is a great time to start planning your flute camp. If you are not interested in attending a camp or hosting one, then why not consider donating money to your local school music program to send a kid to camp. It will change both your lives.
      In 1970 I attended the Sewanee Summer Music Festival as a guest artist. While I was only there one week, those seven days transformed my life. The director of the festival was Dr. Martha McCrory. While the orchestras and chamber groups rehearsed for their Sunday afternoon concert, I kept thinking how this experience was so valuable. Not only was it changing the student’s lives, but when they went home, they would show their fellow students what they had learned. The program was bringing higher orchestral standards to groups across the U.S. After that week, I went home and planned my first flute camp because if one woman could do it, so could I. This past August Dr. Martha celebrated her 90th birthday. Her work is still changing lives. I owe her so much.    

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1   Recordings: Recording technology has become more commonplace, but when recording with your own equipment, make sure the quality is good. Recordings done in bedrooms often sound too dry. Experiment with the microphone placement and different locations. After creating your C.D., play it on several different players to be sure it will play properly.

2    Read Carefully: Check the rules and guidelines for the competition very carefully. Be sure that you record the correct piece for the recorded round. If you are required to list final-round repertoire on the application form, do so with accuracy. If you fail to list pieces, you may be prevented from performing them. Similarly, if you list a piece you think you might be ready to perform, you may be prohibited from changing the piece. Read all of the rules carefully and observe all deadlines.

3    Time Carefully: Rehearse the program for the live rounds carefully, paying close attention to the timing of each selection. You do not want to run out of time before you get to play the finale. Being stopped by the timer because your program ran beyond the alotted time could be perceived by the judges as a lack of preparation.

4    Consider Memory: When the decision between you and another contestant is close, it is possible that an excellent memorized performance could have put you ahead of the other player. If you decide to perform from memory however, be sure to practice in front of audiences many times to be sure your performance will be solid.

5    Stage Presence: The importance of excellent stage presence should not be taken for granted. Even if the only people in the audience are your parents and the judges, treat the stage as if you were performing for a full hall. Presentation matters. Walk on stage with confidence, bow, tune, and perform. Dress appropriately for the performance. While an evening gown is probably overkill, khakis and a sweater may be too casual. Many times, I have heard judges comment that one finalist or another had exceptional stage presence; it does make a difference.

6    Show Versatility: When you have the opportunity to select works for your program, choose pieces with differing styles. Change your playing to match the various time periods. I have heard judges comment on how nice it was to hear a change in style from a Baroque sonata to a Romantic piece, for example. Study the performance practices of each time period represented in your program and perform the pieces convincingly.

7    Consider the Accompaniment: When using a competition-provided accompanist, there will probably be only a brief rehearsal prior to the performance. Select repertoire with that in mind. For example, Messiaen’s Le Merle Noir is a fabulous piece, but it takes significant rehearsal time to achieve a good ensemble between the flute and piano. Choose pieces that will avoid the extra stress of ensemble considerations.

8    Do What You Do Best! When choosing the music for the live rounds, select musical styles that you play best. If Baroque ornamentation, extended techniques, altissimo register, or memorization are your forte, show that in your selections. In most cases, everyone in the competition will be an excellent performer. Showcase what makes you special.

9    Don’t Give Up Hope: If you are not selected as a finalist or fail to win a prize, do not give up hope. I have observed an ebb and flow in competition applicants. Different people enter each year. If you are not selected one year, keep practicing and try again the next year.
 
10    Go for it! As one of my former flute teachers always says to me before a performance, “Don’t forget to take musical risks!” Play with passion. You must show musicality beyond simply obeying the printed music. Once in a competition, I heard someone try for an extremely high note toward the end of a piece. While he missed the note, his attempt was done with such energy that he still won first place in the competition. As another former teacher said, “The wrong note with the right feel is better than the right note with the wrong feel.”
     Good luck in your competition preparations. Most have age limits, with few open to flutists past age 30, so enjoy the opportunities while you can. When competing, be sure to keep a good perspective. Even though winning is nice, the important thing is to learn from the competition and grow as a flutist.

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    The overall form of the movement can be described as A B A (with increasingly developmental variations) plus a coda. The flute solo occupies a very prominent place – the beginning of the B section where the meter changes from 34 to 32. While most of the variations in the A section change harmony once a bar, the three bars leading into the 32 section proceed from beat to beat around the circle of fifths, creating a harmonic stretto that sets up the V-I cadence into the B section.

   
   
    Many things combine to highlight the flute solo variation. Harmonically, all eight bars are accompanied by a pedal E (tonic) in the violas and horns, which seems especially static following those previous three harmonically active bars. (The harmonies do change above the pedal E.) Second, the dynamic level drops to pianissimo during the three measures before the solo begins, and is piano with a poco crescendo during the variation. Third, the texture thins out, with just horns and upper strings in the accompaniment. But the most striking aspect is the meter change that causes the entire B section to function as a slow section within the movement. All these elements draw the listener’s attention to this glorious flute solo.
    One of the most important goals in performing this solo is to bring out the overall arc shape of the passage, from the opening piano E to the climax on the high F#, and back down to the final E in the low register. Although the music is marked only poco crescendo, the dramatic impact of the solo will be greater if the peak of the solo is at least forte, as long as the tone quality remains rich and not forced.
    It seems to me the key to making this solo musically effective is dynamic control. In addition to having a wide enough dynamic range to build the overall crescendo one must obey Brahms’ <> markings, to make sure that the loudest note of each bar is the 4th note, the peak of each small crescendo. The solo is built on the appoggiatura gesture, so the loudest note of each bar should also be the note with the most vibrato. In a sense there are four appoggiaturas in every bar, but if each of them is shaped equally the listener hears the quarter rather than the half-note beat, and the solo loses its overall shape. To keep each measure moving forward, make sure the second half of the measure (which consists of 5 notes) functions as a pickup into the next bar.

    Another key to making the solo coherent is minimizing the eighth-note rests; view the rests as very small spaces that allow you to breathe. Thus, the note after the rest is a continuation of the (same) note before it, so sneak back in without an accent. If you do this, the entire solo seems like one long phrase, reflecting its context of being the 12th variation of the eight-bar ground.
    In addition to a rich, Brahmsian tone and great dynamic control, this solo requires impeccable intonation. It is crucial that the Es in each of the three octaves be in tune with the violas and horns (who are hopefully in tune with each other.), so practice this solo with a tuner droning an E.
    A second intonation trap to avoid is going flat on the decrescendos into the eighth rests. Finally, make sure the overall pitch doesn’t rise as you crescendo into the high F# or fall as you descend to the low E. Many flutists use the right hand middle finger for the high F#, which helps bring the pitch down.
    As flutists we are always looking for ways to develop our sound, and this solo is one of those perfect venues for working on a beautiful, open high register. Because F# is probably not your best note, pick one that is better, perhaps a fifth lower , and practice the figure leading to the high F# transposed down to B minor. Listen to the full and open sound you get on the B; then work your way back up to the E minor version.
    There are many wonderful moments for the flute in the orchestral music of the Romantic period, but few are as stunning as the flute solo in the Finale of Brahms’ Symphony #4. There are over 30 variations in the movement, but only one is assigned to a solo instrument. Its placement at the beginning of the slow section in this Allego energico underscores its importance within the piece. By slowing the pace, decreasing the dynamic level, and thinning the texture Brahms uses the solo flute to calm the mood of this intense movement. The solo also ushers in the one section (variations 13-15) in E major. This is a truly remarkable solo, one of our gems from the Romantic era.

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What was the musical environment like in your family? Were there parents or relatives who played musical instruments?
    After I showed some talent, my mother told people who asked that question, ‘No, I play the tape recorder’. My immediate family environment was extremely supportive – both parents really loved the arts and music, and all the children took lessons, but neither parent performed to any great extent.

Where were your parents from?
    Both sets of grandparents were Chinese – from southern China. We speak an interesting hybrid of the dialect known as Fuchienese. My parents suspected that their children would probably spend their lives in the Western world, so we spoke English at home, although the educational system was in Bahasa Malaysia. And the Chinese language was our mother tongue. You can imagine what our conversations sounded like!

Where had your parents learned English?
    They were both educated in English. In fact, my mother was an English teacher. They made sure we could speak English from birth.

Fuchienese is a dialect that is mutually unintelligible with Mandarin, if I am not mistaken.
    Yes, completely. It doesn’t even have a relationship with Mandarin, such as the similarities between High German and Low German. Fuchienese is not even that close to Mandarin. It’s a completely different language with different intonations and a different way of saying certain words, although the written language is the same.

You went to school in Kuala Lumpur?
   I went to elementary and high school in Kuala Lumpur, and that’s where I started playing and studying music, first the piano, then the violin, and finally the flute.

At what age did you start on the piano?
    Rather later than most prodigies – I was all of six years old. I took it up because my sisters played it, and there was a piano at home. I started with English pedagogical pieces for little kids – there was a whole set of them. There were and are still vestiges in Malaysia of the days when it was an English colony. The educational and music-pedagogical systems are shaped after the British model – the Royal College of Music system of graded study.

How old were you when you started violin?
    At the almost senile age of eight. I remember playing violin with the older kids – it was so cool. They all studied with my first violin teacher, who was quite elderly by that time. We referred to him as Grandfather when he wasn’t present. He was so nurturing. Within a couple of years I got to play quintets with the big kids, and I liked the violin because of that.

How did you come to begin flute studies?
    I had always wanted to play flute. The British Council had a nice recital space, and I heard a concert there performed by a glamorous American flutist. I wish I could remember her name. She played a gold flute. I was just enchanted. But with wind instruments you have to wait for your lungs to grow a little bit before you start. I started it last, and ended up with the flute as my main instrument. I could have played on Malaysian and Chinese flutes, but the sound of the Western flute was what I was always after.
    Much later, when I began playing concertos and more advanced repertoire, I had my flute overhauled by flute maker Jonathan Landell. He just happened to have finished making a gorgeous gold flute, and of course he let me try it. How do you put it? Is it love at first toot? Or first long-tone? The gold shimmer in the sound was irresistible, just like that first flute sound I had heard.

Tell me about the music you heard growing up.
    You could go marketing with your nanny and hear Chinese opera, both the Mandarin high-art opera, as well as Cantonese opera. There were traveling troupes that would present a show in the middle of an open court, in the middle of a market, very much like the commedia dell’arte. I heard that a lot. I remember that sound, the sound of the gong that inflects upwards, the singing style, and the incredible costumes. In fact, those memories have found their way into my chamber opera that will be performed in May.
    There was also a lot of Chinese music, including Chinese classical orchestra music, which is very beautiful, and also a wide array of gamelan-inspired music. I danced with a gamelan for a while. I think I was probably the only music doctoral candidate at Princeton who danced at their oral exams. The examiners asked us to be prepared to discuss three different bodies of music – our own, late-Beethoven quartets, and a body of music that we had some history with. I remember that I wanted to show the sensuality attached to the gamelan, and how together the dance and music made a single whole. So I did some of the dancing at the exams. It’s a different thing entirely when you actually see the dance alongside the bell music.

That style of music has been influential for so many composers in the West from Debussy on.
    I was the only Chinese member of the dance troupe for the Ministry of Culture, so I knew gamelan music as dance music, not as something austere or abstract, but as something to go along with the motions and the gestures that we were making in the dance. There were many concerts sponsored by the Ministry in which I played with the Western part of the orchestra, and there were many concerts that fused the Western orchestra with gamelan instruments. The group traveled to a variety of courts, to the sultans’ palaces, and other very formal venues. Gamelan music was something I lived with, not something that I heard and thought was cool. I was dancing it and playing it.

In the West readers have heard, perhaps, of the famously wealthy Sultan of Brunei, which is an independent state. There are also sultans within the state of Malaysia?
    Absolutely. We have a king, and if I am not mistaken, two different royal families. They alternate in providing the current monarch.

The sultans are equivalent then to dukes and earls.
    And there are princes and princesses – everything from the cast of characters that go to form a monarchy. My sister used to go and hang out in the palace with the princesses.

Was she a musician also?
    My sister studied piano and violin with the same teacher that I did, and became quite a good clarinetist. I think she was principal clarinet when she played in the Bryn Mawr orchestra. Of course now she is an incredibly gifted vascular surgeon and is too busy to keep it up.

Was there other traditional music that you heard?
    Malaysia is a very cosmopolitan country. There were Indians – I remember especially Indian food from going home with my friends for lunch. So there was also a great deal of classical Indian music, and somewhat pop-ish music. In various parts of Kuala Lumpur and out in the countryside, you would hear Moslems chant from the minarets. My musical voice very much reflects this kind of environment.

The sheer variety of music makes it sound like an entrancing paradise. The Indian music was Hindustani, north-Indian?
    I believe so. Just before he died, the sarod master Ali Akbar Khan came to Middlebury College, and everything he played sounded very familiar – not at all foreign.

What influence did western pop music have?
    My father traveled quite a bit, and he brought back the Beatles’ music during the huge craze, so even in my first few years I heard the Beatles. Everything that you could pirate was pirated and readily available – all manner of American pop. I remember Saturday Night Fever very clearly from my teenage years, and my friends and I went crazy over it. I wasn’t allowed to go see the movie, but my friends did. I still consider the BeeGees some of the most awesome pop musicians. There was a lot of Jackson Five and Michael Jackson, too. All of this ended up influencing me. In some of my pieces, especially U-Don Rock and Moo Shu Wrap Rap, I have composed pop-inspired music and also included improvisatory sections where the musicians can rock out in their own way.

Why did you go to the United States for college?
    Trinity College in London has programs abroad in which they prescribe a syllabus or set of pieces and studies from which to choose. Then, once or twice a year, they send professors to the locations where they have foreign students, and they conduct the exams in person. I took some time off from high school to prepare for diplomas from Trinity College through this program. To this date I don’t have a high school diploma, but I was a Fellow of Trinity College, London, at age sixteen. I worked on these with my teachers in Kuala Lumpur and Singapore. The fellowship exam was to perform a whole recital, chosen from a suggested set of pieces. While my fellow students were going to regular school, I stayed at home to practice and to put together programs for the examinations. To this day, I admire my parents, for not only allowing this, but also encouraging it.
    Both my sisters had gone to Bryn Mawr, and my second sister was staying on to go to MIT. My father would only have been comfortable sending me to an English-speaking country for college, as I was a little bit under-age. We chose Bennington for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it was such a highly artistic school. We knew I would get to perform there, and that the teachers would be fantastic.
    Also, very few colleges would accept someone without a high-school diploma. Bennington gave me a full scholarship, and then some. I am very glad I went. I go back to teach there whenever I can. I still find it amazing to walk into that beautiful music building in the morning and feel so inspired.

What kind of flute literature did you play before going to Bennington?
    I learned very standard European fare – a lot of German music – because my teacher from age 14 on was German Swiss. I played all of the Bach sonatas, Poulenc and other French composers, a lovely impressionistic piece by Koechlin, Martinu, Hindemith, and the Mozart concertos, of course.
    There was a lovely conductor in Kuala Lumpur by the name of Johari Salleh, who was a composer as well. He conducted the Kuala Lumpur Symphony Orchestra and the Radio and TV Orchestra (equivalent to the BBC). There was a moment when we were playing the L’Arlesienne Suite with the Kuala Lumpur Symphony Orchestra, and there was some dispute as to who should play the big, beautiful flute solo. My mother recounts that Salleh was asked about this, and said “The little girl can play.”
    The principal flutist was a middle-aged American, who simply stormed out of the hall. I don’t remember this at all, but my mother does. Salleh is a lovely musician, and I was very good friends with his daughter. I remember the moment of being given the responsibility for that solo. I played a lot of orchestral music at summer camps, as well as in the Kuala Lumpur Symphony Orchestra. As it turns out, this was all great preparation for playing in orchestras at Bennington and Juilliard.

Tell me about your beginnings as a composer. You were already composing at Bennington.
    I composed at Bennington because I had to. Everyone in music there had to compose and know what all of that was about. This is so valuable, and that’s why we have implemented the same concept here at Middlebury. My first class was with the great Vivian Fine. It could not have been more inspiring for me to hear and see the music of a female composer. At the same time she was so full of gravitas and fun. What a character! Exactly as her music is.

What was her pedagogical approach?
    She provided freedom, and information when you needed it, which was perfect for me. The class was much the way that I run my composition
classes today; everyone wrote a piece for a specific
    instrument, and then a faculty member came to the class and played it. Then we talked about the music, and the faculty member would fill in gaps and make suggestions. Classes were very lively. At Bennington you heard everything that you wrote.

What sort of musical language did you bring to your lessons with Vivian Fine?
    I wrote what you might characterize as modal pieces at that point. They were a hybrid of the Eastern and Western modalities that I had in my inner ear. At that point Bennington was, and I think it still is, a very avant-garde school. After the first semester my ears had been opened up much more, and that changed my writing. Most of the teachers were involved in 20th-century music, including Jack Glick, who was a violist and also played the mandolin. He was very active – one of the top free-lancers in New York. He was my violin teacher there and chose contemporary music for me to play, both in chamber music class and in violin lessons. Playing contemporary music was so important – it was immediate immersion. In short order I was approaching music very differently.

With whom did you study flute?
    It was just the most marvelous and comical occurrence. I studied flute with Sue Anne Kahn, and my name is Su Lian Tan. I was already quite advanced when I entered Bennington, so people would occasionally call the department and say something garbled which could be either name. The assistant would have to ask whether the person wanted Sue Anne Kahn, or Su Lian Tan.”
    Sue Anne was marvelous in the way she helped me with technique and to equalize tone production from the bottom to the top. She too brought new music into my life, since she was, and I think still is, a member of the Jubal Trio. She recommended marvelous pieces to work on, including the Dutilleux Sonatine and the Jolivet Chant de Linos. She has such breadth as a musician that there wasn’t any style or form of music that she couldn’t talk about or help me with.
    I remember very clearly a conversation we had about articulation in Baroque music. She was very specific, right down to where my tonguing should be placed to bring out the style and how this attitude might shift from genre to genre. This kind of attention to detail motivated me to seek a larger palette for tone production as well. Voice lessons really helped too.
    I was a bit anxious the semester she went on sabbatical, but I shouldn’t have worried. The interim teacher was Patricia Spencer, who not only continued this kind of pedagogy, but has been a friend ever since. These days we meet up as composer and ensemble member. The Da Capo Chamber Players, with whom she performs, have been our guests at Middlebury College numerous times.

What made you decide to study composition rather than performance in graduate school?
    I was in a quandary about which program to follow, largely because of a masterclass I played with Tom Nyfenger. He sat me down afterwards and invited me to come study at Yale with him. It was very hard to turn down an invitation like that. However, it was equally hard to turn down an invitation to study with Vincent Persichetti. At that point Juilliard did not encourage students to major in two disciplines simultaneously, but they said they could accommodate me. I could play in the orchestra, and there would be many other opportunities to play as well. I visited both schools, and in the end I couldn’t really see myself at Yale. New York was beckoning, and I decided to go to Juilliard.

Did you study composition with others at Juilliard in addition to Persichetti?
    Unfortunately, Vincent had a lifelong cigar-smoking habit, which caught up with him the second year that I was there. They brought in Bernard Rands during the time in which they were hoping that Vincent would recover. I studied with Bernard for a semester. It was a lively time for him – he had just won the Pulitzer Prize for the Canti trilogy. After Bernard left, I had to decide between studying with David Diamond or Milton Babbitt. I asked Milton if he would include me in his studio, and he squeezed me in, one of the more delightful occurrences in my life.

What piece would you consider your Opus 1?
    My mother would say that my actual opus one is a piece called Little Pig Snort Snort. I illustrated the manuscript, and my sister helped me with the musical notation.
I think you are asking when I took myself a little more seriously, and I have to admit that I still don’t. But somewhere between By Leaps and Bounds and Autumn Lute Song I started writing in what would become my voice. I didn’t know it was my voice yet. It was Milton Babbitt at Juilliard who encouraged me to be all that I am.
    When you are young, you try to learn the theory and philosophy behind Western music. But that wasn’t all that I was. By Leaps and Bounds is the first piece in which I unmistakably let the Asiatic roots show, in the form of gamelan influence. Autumn Lute Song also has that voice in which the Western philosophies fuse with Chinese idioms and gestures.

How else would you describe the style of Autumn Lute Song?
    Imagine an old Chinese brush painting of a philosopher singing his verses. Ancient Chinese poetry is profound, and its message is often made through landscape imagery. Autumn Lute Song (Theodore Presser) is a big song for flute and string orchestra based on that image. I made it in such a way that the principal flute of any orchestra could play the solo part. The instruments imitate the plucking of pipa (a Chinese four-stringed lute-like instrument) and the strumming of the chin (one of the oldest Chinese instruments, similar to a zither).
    So its veneer is Asian, but its philosophy and text are understood from a French standpoint. That marrying of the classical Chinese ideology with my knowledge of French style, mostly of the Belle Époque, is what grounds that piece – the mélodie includes the comprehensive text of what is being told. Asian music is all linear, with very little sense of verticality as Westerners would analyze it. Harmonies in Chinese music occur by accident. What is important is what is said horizontally.

Is your string quartet also based on Asian ideas?
    Life in Wayang is a large piece. The title refers to shadow puppet theater (wayang kulit). Shadow puppet theater is based on the Ramayana and Mahabharata – the Asian equivalents of the Iliad and the Odyssey. I decided to write my own Wayang Kulit story and base the piece on that. There are warring gods, very much like the Lord of the Rings and the Ring cycle, and the gods tell my Romeo and Juliet that if they were to marry, a century of bad luck would befall them and their villages. That’s the first movement.
    The second movement is the love story, which is where you hear hints of Mahler, who I adore – the young couple tell of their love and think about what to do. The third movement is about the idea of a community celebration. So there is a program that runs through the whole piece.

Was Life in Wayang a commission?
    Yes, the Takacs String Quartet had played on the Middlebury concert series, and we were lucky enough to have them for mini-residencies, in which they read through my students’ music. We decided to do a piece together. They toured Life in Wayang in numerous places after the premiere. I will write a second quartet for them.

Is it available yet on a commercial recording?
    No, but it will be soon. I am recording two CDs of my music, and then two CDs of other people’s music, playing flute. The next recording of my compositions will be of my chamber opera. Two years ago, when I had completed the music, we were booked at a number of places, but when the economy went south things changed. The premiere of the concert version was at the Manhattan School of Music in May 2010, performed by the Meridian Arts Ensemble, Brenda Patterson, mezzo-soprano, Miriam Gordon-Stewart soprano, and conducted by my husband Evan Bennett. I’m very happy to tell you that people really loved it! The Meridians are at the top of their game, and the singers involved are remarkable. 

What about your flute repertoire?
    I have been playing everything from standard repertoire to music by Mario Davidovsky and Elliot Carter, as well as music of friends and colleagues who have dedicated pieces to me. A few years ago, I became so enamored of Cyrus Chestnut’s music that I wanted to try to play music his way. Together with guitarist Mark Christensen, we three met in the concert hall one day at Middlebury and just started playing. What an incredible experience that was. We liked it so much that we decided to do just that again and in public. After so many years of being a notation-based musician, I found it incredible to play with such musicians without even one chart for an entire evening.
Then two years ago a number of pieces written for me came in all at the same time. Some were by former students, now emerging professional composers, and others were from colleagues and more established composers. I grouped them into a recital and presented it four times.
    The program included Peter Hamlin’s Grand Theft Flauto, which is performed with video game controller and stole the show, as well as  John McDonald’s two miniatures Flute at the Bottom and Brief Lyric, Martin Amlin’s Sonata No. 2, Horizons, a shakuhachi-inspired piece written by Mary Koppel, a former student of mine, and Down at the Crossroads by another former student, Matt LaRocca. It is a bluesy piece with great use of extended techniques. We are currently planning to record this program as well as my Autumn Lute-Song and Igor Golubev’s Turning Up Again and Again. We will also record this program at the WGBH studios and the engineer Antonio Oliart is also a flutist. The disc will be on Arsis Audio.
    Plans for the recording are well underway, and already we are looking forward to the next recital, which will feature works for two flutes and accompaniment. I have invited Sue-Ellen Hershman-Tcherepnin to join me. Anthony DeRitis will compose a piece for two flutes and electronics, and John McDonald will write a trio. I am also looking for a composer to write a piece that would be hard-rock or jazz inspired.
Finally, I am planning to ask Milton Babbitt if he might compose us a short something. Whether he can or not, asking him brings together those happy, long arcs of flute and composition that have so fascinated and absorbed me, and that have been the source of so much sweat, elation, and so many epiphanies. I can’t wait to see what happens!             

Editor’s Note: Tan’s music is published by ECS Publishing in Boston, and she is open to commissions. “I love to write pieces for all different instrumentations and instrumentalists.”

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