Instead of "Don't Rush," Try This

Do you rush? Do your students?

I’m guessing that for many of you, the answer is yes. Sure, a lucky few of us seem to have been born with a metronome welded to our hearts, but most of us have a tempo tendency: we either push forward, or pull back. And of the two tendencies, rushing is far more common.

In fact, I’ll go ahead and confess: pulling forward is my own tendency, and I have worked very hard over the years to mitigate it. Which is why I know how frustrating it sometimes can be, as a learner, to be told, simply, “don’t rush.”

Sure, sometimes “don't rush” is all it takes. There are times when merely having an awareness that you’re rushing allows you to direct your attention toward playing in better time. But this generally only works with experienced musicians who have already developed the skills to monitor and alter their playing in relation to an internal beat. They might have momentarily been distracted from doing do, but once their attention is called to that fact, they’re fine.

But for other learners, hearing “don’t rush” is a bit like like hearing “be happy.” I mean, sure, yes, OBVIOUSLY. Be happy. And don’t rush. But. how???

Over the years, I’ve worked with many, many rushers, and I’m constantly on the hunt for new ways to help them master keeping time when “don’t rush” isn’t enough. Here are three of my more successful strategies:

1) Feel the pulse Sometimes rushing arises from the fact that the student has not yet learned, or been taught, to keep a conscious pulse (or in some cases, any pulse at all). These students feel adrift in the rhythm, often able to memorize the approximate rhythmic contour of a melody, but unable to pinpoint where the beats fall and prone in particular to eating time during longer note values. With these students, I work specifically on developing the ability to keep a pulse while simultaneously receiving or generating auditory input. We choose a way to physicalize the pulse (my recommedation is often to tap a big toe, though any small, unobtrusive motion will work) and then build up: First listening to a known piece while tapping the pulse, then speaking the rhythm while tapping the pulse, then playing while tapping a pulse. Working on pulse is not a quick fix, but it helps to shore up a vital foundational skill.

2) Think about vowels One of my favorite tricks (I use it with myself) is to ask the student to think about notes they are rushing as consonant-vowel-consonant words, paying special attention to the vowels. When you’re speaking, if you don't leave enough time for the vowel, the words sound clipped and strange, and since the experience of speaking is near universal, most of us have a ready-made mental template we can access to help us learn to leave enough time between our beginnings and endings. It’s just a matter of calling it up.

3) You’re James Dean! If rushing is part of general over-functioning, tension, and/or nerves, adopting a nonchalant body posture, as I discussed in this post, can be immeasurably helpful. If your overall body positioning is broadcasting ease and comfort, as it might if you pretend you’re a very cool cinema idol just noodling around, your'e much less likely to rush. Along these same lines, I often tell myself “there’s no hurry,” as I play, which helps me achieve a feeling of confident calm.

Student-generated bonus strategies!

One of the great pleasures of teaching adults is that they become partners in their own learning. Occasionally a student who rushes doesn’t respond to my go-to strategies, but, as we tackle the issue, he or she is able to generate a tweak or an entirely new tactic that helps achieve the desired result. Here are a couple of strategies students have self-generated in the recent past. I wouldn’t have thought of either of these off the top of my head, but for these particular students, they worked amazingly well.

4) Commas I have one student whose rushing was immeasurably improved when she drew commas into her music after notes she was shortening. The visual cue reminded her not to move on from that note too quickly.

5) I have a right to be here! Another student saw significant improvement when she told herself she had a right to be playing and a right to be heard. When she said to herself “I have a right to be here,” she stopped hurrying forward in her playing and took her time.

What else have you tried in place of “don’t rush?”

The Most Important Question You Can Ask Yourself

I feel for my students sometimes, I really do. No sooner have they accomplished a task -mastering a specific articulation, say, or getting a tricky ornament under their fingers- than I’m giving them a new one, possibly while yodeling “the reward for good work is more work!” in my most obnoxious teacher voice.

I’m sure at times it feels like I’m Lucy, forever snatching the football away from Charlie Brown as he kicks. But the thing is, with music, there are no touchdowns. There are no field goals. Instead it’s about yardage- constantly moving forward. Maybe you move laterally for a while, or backward for a minute or two, but always, ultimately, you’re headed forward toward the end of the field. Only, as you draw near, you realize there’s another field waiting for you after that.

I try to explain the scope of this, the awesomeness of the endeavor to my students. I’ve been working to improve my playing very steadily for 30 years and there is no end in sight. The day I stop and think “right, that’s it. I’m as good as I’m going to get,” is unimaginable to me at this moment. It may be the day I die.

And do you know what? That’s OK. It’s more than OK. There’s something both beautiful and empowering about a commitment with a very long horizon, a journey with a receding, chimerical end. It forces you to revel in inches, to celebrate centimeters. It makes you grateful for every step.

Which brings me to the most important question you can ask yourself as you approach any given piece. It’s not “am I done?” It’s not “how can I perfect this.” It’s not “am I good yet?” No, the question is simple, but powerful: What’s the next step?

Note that you don’t have to ask this question right away. If you’ve worked hard at a piece, you are entitled to rest on your laurels for while; your labor deserves acknowledgment. Nor can you never leave a piece. But the fact is that there is always, always something left to work on, and that infinitude is, if you think about it, pretty darn glorious.

Asking what the next step is doesn’t mean you’re bad, and it doesn’t mean your’re good. To be honest, whether you’re “bad” or” good” (imprecise words that are almost useless in this context) has zero interest for me as a teacher, unless you are contemplating pursuing a career in recorder. I’m much more interested in whether, as a student, you are moving forward- or not.

And make no mistake: everyone (anyone!) CAN move forward. Some do it faster than others; some do it more evenly than others; some start 10 yards ahead; some start 10 yards behind. But no matter how old you are, or when you start, or what you bring to the musical table, if you consistently ask “what’s the next step?” you WILL keep moving down the field.

I’ll see you out there.

Your Guide to Getting Lost

It’s the nightmare of many a beginning ensemble player. You’re hanging in there, playing your part, when all of a sudden a black hole opens up the musical universe and you are swallowed up. Your fellow players soldier on without you. You’re lost. And you don’t know how to get back in.

Getting lost can feel disorienting, scary, and upsetting. For some players, it can be such an aversive experience that they quit trying to play in groups entirely. And that’s a shame, because playing with others is some of the most rewarding playing we can do.

Unfortunately, playing with others is off the table for most of us right now thanks to the global pandemic. But hopefully there will come a time when we can gather again. Which makes NOW the perfect time for you to brush up on the most important ensemble skill there is- getting lost- well

How do you practice getting lost well? Here’s my guide:

1) Accept that you will get lost. Look, you’re going to get lost. My students get lost. I get lost. My colleagues get lost. When you get lost, you have three choices. You can panic, flooding your body with adrenaline and making it much more difficult to do the kind of focused processing you need to get back in. You can tantrum, using all spare brain power to silently or not so silently excoriate yourself. Or you can roll up your sleeves, embrace this great new opportunity to practice getting back in, and go to work.

2) Get used to hearing other people play while you play. For beginning ensemble players, the sound of others playing can be disorienting. Playing your part while you are receiving a lot of auditory input from other people playing is a skill, and skills must be specifically practiced. Few of us have live partners to practice with at the moment, but you can simulate other players using recordings. Find (or make) a recording of the piece you’re working on. First, just try following your part in the score with your eyes as you listen. Then, try playing along.

3) Learn your music. You probably thought this was supposed to prevent you from getting lost. And it does- to a point. But knowing your music also helps when you when you inevitably do get lost, by giving you a better understanding of what is supposed to be happening in your part, now and in the future.

4) Learn everyone else’s music. It’s not nosy! It’s survival! If you learn the line of your duet partner, listening to it will be more helpful to you as you attempt to find your way back in.

5) Stop playing. One of the most common mistakes I see people make is to keep on playing even though they know, or suspect, that they’re lost. This isn’t smart. First, it takes up brain space you need to figure out where you are and how to get back in. Second, it produces lots of confusing auditory input that muddles the musical waters for both you AND your ensemble mates. If you know, or suspect, you’re off, stop playing and take a pause to orient yourself.

5) Track the beat. When you get lost, the beat is your life preserver. If you hold onto it, it will keep you afloat in the musical ocean until you can drag yourself back onto the boat. You need to keep it in your body, but you also need to keep it visually, tracking where are you move on the page with each pulse. How do you practice this? Embrace your mistakes! Mistakes are an organic opportunity to practice keeping the beat while you fumble around. Treat each one as a practice opportunity and you will improve! You can also create opportunities for yourself to practice this skill by purposefully dropping out, even putting the recorder physically down, while keeping a pulse in your body and your eyes on the music.

6) Find the most audible line. If you haven’t managed to keep visual track of where you are in the music, you need to open up your ears. What’s the line that’s easiest to hear? It can vary, depending on spacial placement, range, and musical material, but the line you can hear most clearly is the one you want to use to orient yourself. Latch onto it, locate the material your colleague is playing on the page, and once you have, get ready to hop back in.

7) Make appointments. What if you don’t have the score, or what if the things you’ve tried haven’t worked? This is when you want to set up a series of appointments with yourself, throughout the piece, in advance. What are appointments? They’re music’s mountain peaks- big, easily recognizable locations in the musical geography that clue you in to exactly where you are. Think group rests, everyone playing in the same rhythm, cadences….anything that grabs the ear can make for a great appointment.

8) Get back in, no matter what. It doesn’t matter that much if you get lost. What matters is that you get back in. Ideally you do this quickly as possible, perhaps within a few notes. But if not, you get back in a few measures down the line. Or you get back in at your next appointment. Or the appointment after that. Missed all those? Jump back in when you hear the final note of the piece, and end with grace and pride. Getting lost is inevitable. Giving up is not.

What is Priming, and How Can it Help You Play Better?

I was a triple major in college. This wasn’t because I was industrious. It was pure, unadulterated indecision: I was REALLY INTERESTED in a lot of different things, and it seemed impossibly wrenching to narrow it down. This caused me a lot of angst when, after five years, I graduated with not one, not two, but three degrees of questionable utility (recorder performance, psychology, and creative writing) and couldn’t figure out what the heck I was supposed to do next.

A couple of decades later, I’ve discovered that recorder teaching is a fabulous fit for me, allowing me to roll all my skills and interests into one endlessly fascinating bundle! I especially enjoy when I can make connections across fields, which is one of the reasons I’m so excited to talk to you this month about priming, and how it can help you learn and play better!

In the field of Psychology, priming means changing how you react to a thing by previewing something else- usually something related. If you prime a person with the word “taxes,” he or she will subsequently react more quickly to a related word like “accountant.” In other words, exposure to the first stimulus changes how you respond to the second.

The great news is that you can harness the concept of priming to improve your playing. Here are three examples of how I use priming in my playing and teaching:

Prime difficult notes

Are you having trouble leaping to specific high notes during a difficult passage? One thing that can help immensely is playing a long, beautiful tone on the note you’re struggling with immediately before you attempt the passage. Having the experience of producing a beautiful, resonant tone on, say, high F on the alto immediately before you have to leap to it can make accessing that F feel more natural and less risky. It diminishes the urge to clench up or push that difficult notes often evoke, and helps pair the note with the memory of success in the mind of the player.

Prime a clef or key

Are you struggling with a piece in a key you don’t play a lot in, like E major? Or maybe you have to read a difficult piece for bass, when you’ve only recently learned the clef? In cases like these, you can improve your success by priming yourself immediately prior with an easier selection in the key or clef in which you’re struggling. Ground yourself in bass clef by playing through the bass part in a hymnal, for example, or play through an exercise in E major before you tackle the main event.

Priming in Van Eyck

Van Eyck’s collection for solo recorder, Der Fluyten Lusthof, is one of our masterworks, containing sequences of variations on a host of different themes. These variations become quite complex, and as they do so, it can become harder and harder to hear the tune amidst what becomes a forest of notes. That’s where priming come in. My favorite way of practicing Van Eyck, for both myself and my students, is what I call phrase-by-phrase practicing. Instead of playing the theme all the way through and then the variation all the way through, try matching each phrase of the theme with its corresponding phrase in a variation. Play these matching phrases side by side, with the theme coming first, to gain a deeper understanding of how Van Eyck is transforming his tunes.

Can you think of any other ways to prime yourself for increased success?

The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Recorder Players!

Photo credit: Lisa Scherrer

What are the habits my most upwardly mobile recorder students share?  

I often invite my students to engage in self-reflection when it comes to their own learning, and over the years I’ve learned a few things about the habits that help students thrive.  

What I find exciting is that all of these things are habits that can be deliberately cultivated  by YOU, right now, whether or not you’re studying formally. (I’m working on a few myself!)

So what do highly effective recorder students do?

1) They have a practice routine

Students who are able to make practice a habit, engaging in it for at least a few minutes most days a week to the point where practicing becomes hard NOT to do, make faster progress than those who have to choose to practice every time.  Put in bald mathematical terms, practicing 10 minutes 6 days a week is better than practicing 60 minutes one day a week.

2) They develop goals

Developing goals for and with students is part of the work of being a teacher, but I’ve noticed that my most driven students often supplement our jointly generated goals with goals they’ve come up with on their own.  Whether it’s playing for a local church service, forming an ensemble, or showing off for their own students, there’s something about the self-generated goal that seems to be extra motivating.

3) They listen….

Upwardly mobile students are have their ears wide open both during and outside of lessons.  They listen attentively to their own playing, to my playing, and to our conversation.  They are also listening outside of lessons- to other players, other perspectives, other ways of making music.  All of this helps them grow

4) …and they talk

Effective students listen deeply; but they also know when it’s time to speak up- telling me they don’t’ understand a particular explanation, for example, or clueing me in to something I could do to help them learn.  I especially love when students bring me questions.  It means they are actively engaging with the material, and that kind of engagement leads to progress. 

5) They get comfortable with discomfort

Learning is change, and change can be uncomfortable.  In lessons, I am frequently asking a student to do things that are new and, at least at first, difficult or even scary.  Students who can learn to accept feeling uncomfortable, unsure, or incompetent have a major advantage, in that they are more willing to experiment and evolve.

6) They play with others

Playing with others is a fabulous chance for students to implement all the new techniques they are learning in lessons.  It is also highly motivating- there’s nothing like wanting to be able to play the bass part in your ensemble to get you to learn to read the clef.  I see big benefits to almost every kind of group playing, from casual get-togethers to hour-long chapter meetings to immersive week-long workshops. Alas, this habit is mostly off the table during pandemic times, but I hope that at some point it will be possible to cultivate it again!

7) They treat mistakes as data

Mistakes may feel agonizing iin the moment, but they are, at their core, information. And my most successful students realize this. Rather than becoming upset when you make a mistake, treat it like what it is: incredibly valuable data you can use to help improve your playing. For example, you might be distressed by the small blips and disynchronies that occur between notes when your fingers don’t move exactly at the same time. These are irritating, but they are also real-time, important auditory feedback that, over time, can help you learn to synchronize your movements. And if you embrace them, as opposed to trying to avoid them, your playing will improve faster.

The Hidden Curriculum: Four Essential Musical Skills You Might Not Know You Need to Practice

In school, there are a whole bunch things you' are explicitly taught- what fractions mean, how volcanos erupt, how to tell time. And then there a whole bunch of things about which you never receive explicit instruction, but which, nevertheless, you absorb: how to follow the teacher’s instructions, how to know what to listen for in class, how to care for your things and navigate the school environment.

In the field of education, these silent lessons are called “the hidden curriculum,” and for better or for worse, your level of mastery of the the hidden curriculum can determine your educational fate.

Music is no different. Just as in school, there are musical skills that aren’t often explicitly taught, but that, nevertheless, you must learn. I think of this as music’s hidden curriculum: skills you might not even know you need to practice. Sometimes these skills evolve instinctually, especially in young players, but the more years I teach, the more I’ve found value in spelling them out.

Here are some examples:

1) Flexible subdivision. One of the shifts many players from more traditional classical music backgrounds face when moving into early repertoire is a change of pulse- I have a colleague who jokes that everything in early music is either in one or two, and he’s not far off. But feeling a more infrequent tactus (beat) can present difficulty in rhythmically intricate music. This is where flexible subdivision comes in. You might start out feeling the piece in whole notes, then swap to feeling a quarter note pulse when the going gets tough- then swap back. Flexibly subdividing (changing the pulse you feel midstream) is an essential skill, but if you don't practice it, you won’t be able to use it in the moment.

2) Counting rests. As I discovered far, far, far too late in my musical life, you actually do need to practice counting rests. You can’t just skip them in practice and expect to be able count effectively in performance.

3) Getting back in. Leaping back onto the musical train after getting thrown off is one of the most vital skills any musician can master, and yet we often waste our opportunities to practice by throwing silent (or not-so-silent) mini-tantrums. And it’s true, getting back is no joke, but rather, a complex skill made up of many subskills. First, you need to identify that you are off. Then, you need to quiet your emotional and physical response. Next, you need to listen and look, matching what you hear in the other parts to what’s on the page. Finally, you need to forecast ahead, identifying the place where you will make your re-entry. Getting back in is a far, far more useful skill than the mythical musical skill of “never getting lost in the first place,” and yet we don’t often talk about what it takes to make it happen, let alone deliberately practice it.

4) Relaxing during mistakes. Similarly, we don’t often explicitly teach, or practice, how to make mistakes with ease and grace, and yet it is of vital importance that when we make a mistake (which, yes, we will!), we do it with skill. Mistakes often cause us to tense up, flooding us with adrenaline, and stiffening our fingers and minds. This is not conducive to accurate or musical playing. So the next time you make a mistake, consider taking it as an opportunity to practice relaxing into the error- and keep on playing.

What other examples of music’s hidden curriculum can you think of?

Six Tips to Improve Your Sight Reading

Usually on the blog, I write about whatever has lately been catching my interest as a player and a teacher.  But recently I had a reader (I am continually surprised to discover I actually have readers!) write in with a request. She wanted to know about sight reading: how could she improve?  

Initially, I buried the suggestion deep in my “later” pile. After all, who was I to talk about sight reading?  Sight reading has been my bugbear throughout my life as a musician. In my first years of lessons, I used to make sure to get my teacher to play through whatever piece I was supposed to learn so I wouldn’t have to actually read it.  I’ve wildly improved since then, but I still take care to be as rigorously prepared as possible- preparation being the secret weapon of the weak reader.

Then I figured: Who better to offer tips than someone who has struggled- and improved?

The truth is that poor sight reading is a vicious cycle: If you are not a good sight reader, you tend to avoid sight reading- which makes you a yet weaker sight reader.  And on and on.

So the first step in improving your sight reading is simple:

Do It!

You must practice sight reading in order to improve at sight reading.  And you must practice it regularly, ideally every time you pick up the instrument.  Set aside 10-15 daily minutes of dedicated reading time and you WILL see improvement over time.  Even if you read no further down this tip list, this is the thing to try.

Orient

Before you start reading a piece, take a moment to orient yourself.  What is the key signature?  Time signature?  Are there any difficult passages to note in advance?  Are there repeats, or first and second endings?  It will help to get the lay of the land before you plunge in.

Start Right

Each time you begin to play, count a full measure in your head first, inhaling in time the beat prior to your first note.  Even more important, make this starting process a habit- something you do each and every time you pick up a piece.

Rhythm

For many struggling sight readers, reading rhythm is a big part of the problem. If rhythm is difficult for you, make a practice of reading the rhythm of a piece first, before you start, by speaking or clapping to the beat.  This will allow you to improve your rhythmic accuracy without the distraction of having to move your fingers and vary articulations. You can also practice rhythm away from the music with flashcards, a rhythm reading book, etc.  Use a metronome to help you keep a pulse.

Find the Weak Points

Sight reading is not a monolith- rather, it is made up of many different subskills that must be practiced separately. Practicing in one clef is not going to make you a whiz at rest; practicing in one time signature won’t necessarily help you in another.  Figure out where your weak points are.  Is it sight reading with a whole note beat?  Sight reading up the octave?  Sight reading in sharp keys?  Tailor your reading practice accordingly.

Ensemble Skills

When recorder players tell me they are weak sight readers, they often mean that they have trouble keeping up in a group.  Reading as part of an ensemble is very different than reading on your own, and requires practicing several additional skills. 

First, practice keeping going in tempo after you make a mistake.  If you allow a mistake to derail you rhythmically in a group, you’ll be lost.  But if you err and pick back up in tempo, you’ll still be with the group. This is a skill- so it must be practiced!   

Second, get used to reading while hearing the auditory input of other parts.  This can be a real adjustment- and is one reason players new to group playing struggle.  Simulate playing with a group at home by playing along to a recording, or even just listening to a recording while following your part in the score.

If you get off, treat it as opportunity to practice my very favorite ensemble skill, hopping back in!  This is seriously the most valuable reading skill there is, and every mistake is an opportunity to practice!

Happy reading- you CAN improve. I’m proof.

The James Dean Technique

One of the things I like most about teaching is that you can have decades of experience and STILL discover new ways of helping your students.

A couple of months ago, I had a lesson with a student with whom I’ve been working for several years.  Over those years, we’ve worked toward many different goals from many different angles, with a particular emphasis on air consistency.  My student, who is extremely musical, had made very considerable improvements, but the air consistency still took focus.

At this particular lesson, she was working on a difficult solo selection that required fast fingers and active interpretation.  The air consistency was slipping, and I tried reminding my student to feel the forward motion of the air, not accent with breath, etc.  It got a little better, but her whole system still looked tight and constricted. Then I had a brainwave.

“You’re James Dean!” I yelped

My student, being a reasonable human being, said “what?”

I put down my recorder and got out my computer.  To the thrill of recorder devotees everywhere, there are a number of photographs of James Dean playing recorder.  A quick Google search will pull up an image or three. In some of them Dean is shirtless.  In all of them, his posture telegraphs nonchalance and a profound sense of cool. 

“Try pretending you’re James Dean,” I told my student.  “Look at his body.  He’s leaning back in his chair.  He’s easy. He’s casual.  He’s just playing around. That’s how you want to be for this piece.”

My student, who is nothing if not a good sport, said she’d try it out.  And the change in her playing was profound.  As soon as she began to telegraph ease in her body, her air smoothed out.  Her tempo fluctuations clamed.  Her fingers ran more smoothly and her very strong natural musicality was able to shine through.

At this point I think I said something very intelligent and teacherly, like “woah.”  Placing her body in a position of nonchalance had short-circuited a number of ways in which she was over-functioning, and the change in her playing was pronounced.

Obviously this is not a panacea. Aping James Dean is not a shortcut to recorder virtuosity, and it is far from the only skill you need.   And pretending to be James Dean was somewhat uncomfortable for my student, who said, after the initial couple of run-throughs, that she felt straight-jacketed.  We talked about feeling easy instead of frozen, smooth movements instead of no movements.  But it’s something she, and I, will continue to have to fine tune in the months to come.

But “The James Dean Technique,” as my student has dubbed it, is powerful, and reminds me that sometimes you need to change your body before you change your mind.  I’m excited to try it out in my own playing (I’m also a forward-leaner) and with some of my other students. 

As my thoughtful student wrote in a lovely post-lesson reflection, “Bravery, and perhaps some swagger, is necessary in order to live life from the heart rather than according to the expectations of or defense against others.  The same is required of the highest level of artistry.” 

Three Exercise Books I'm Enjoying Right Now

A pandemic is a splendid time to discover the pleasures of a good exercise book!

 (Add that to the catalog of sentences I never thought I’d have to write.)

So many musical avenues are closed to us these days, but exercise books, with their siren song of self-betterment, still beckon.

And truth be told, I’ve always loved a good exercise book. They are straightforward, promising a direct path to improvement if only you put in the time. And after spending enough time scrabbling in the weeds of musical interpretation and performance practice, mere repetition can be a relief.

Of course, the best exercise books reward your effort not only with increased skill, but with loveliness. 

Here are three exercise books I’ve been enjoying lately. One is a longtime favorite and two are recent discoveries- but all of them are worth your time.

Hans-Martin Linde: Neuzeitliche Übungsstücke für die Altblockflöte.

I’ve owned and loved this exercise book for so long that my copy is quite literally disintegrating (see above- no cover!) But every time I return to it, I discover something new.  The 22 exercises, written in a modern idiom, are musically satisfying while, almost incidentally, making a bullseye of specific skill areas.  I have shared this book with many students over the years, and to my surprise, I have found that it can be polarizing- students either adore it, as I do, or try it and shy away.

At any rate, I believe it’s a classic every serious recorder student should own.  

Where to buy: There are innumerable places to buy music these days. But I tend to order from recorder specialty purveyors like Honeysuckle Music or Von Huene Workshop- both knowledgeably staffed and open for orders during the pandemic.

Alison Melville: Hors d’Oeuvres.

Hors d’Oeuvres, by the Canadian recorder player and teacher Alison Melville, has only been out for a few years, but it’s quickly becoming one of the exercise books I use most with my students.  Like the Linde, the exercises in Hors d’Oeuvres are musically satisfying- absolutely no hardship to repeat.  They are also somewhat easier technically than the exercises in the other books discussed here, so while the book has much to offer advanced players, it is more accessible to players in intermediate stages of their recorder journeys.  And finally, the exercises are neo-baroque in style, so if a student balks at Linde or other more “modern” exercise books, I’ll often direct them here.

Where to buy: You can pick up a copy at Alison’s website.  

Héloïse Degrugillier: Exercises for the Alto Recorder- Mostly

Boston-based recorder player and teacher Héloïse Degrugillier published this book in 2019, and I am really enjoying getting to know it during this pandemic!  What I particularly like about this book is the way in which every exercise takes on a specific recorder issue- and that these issues are not restricted to tricky fingerings.  There’s an exercise for syncopation, an exercise for low F and high F, and exercise for low chromatic passagework—even one for switching instruments.  I also enjoy that each exercise is accompanied by some short but sweet technical instruction.  This one is not for the faint of heart, but it is well worth the effort.

Where to buy: Contact Héloïse directly: heloise.degrugillier@gmail.com

What is a Learning Community, and How Can it Help You Stay Motivated?

It’s amazing how quickly the calendar becomes blank.  In February, I was facing down a whirlwind spring.  Now, a long, bare spring and summer stretch ahead, and I’m wondering if my September and October work will get cancelled, too.

This photo of hands totally makes me low-grade nervous now!

No concerts means nothing to practice for, so in addition to upending my daily life, COVID has blown apart my practicing routine. I literally have nothing for the foreseeable future for which I must practice.  I could do anything- but there’s nothing I must do. That’s a disconcerting feeling!

I know I’m not alone.  Concerts are canceled, recorder societies are on hiatus…we’ve all lost our regular playing outlets.  And without a specific event to practice for, it gets harder to maintain a quality practice routine —at least for me.

For about a week after the last of my spring concerts was cancelled, I drifted.  I played through one thing after another, hopping around, not bothering to invest much time or energy in anything.

After seven or eight days of that, I’d had enough. I needed structure and accountability, and if the world wasn’t going to provide them for me, I’d have to set them up for myself.

I decided to form a learning community.

What is a learning community?  Loosely, a learning community is a group of learners progressing together through a project. (Obviously, these days, your learning community will be online.) Membership in a learning community can benefit your practice by providing structure and social accountability- both powerful motivators. And it can help your fellow community members find the same. 

Interested in forming your own learning community? All you need is a project, some people, a platform, and some ground rules.  Let’s look at each of these things a little more in-depth.

Project

A project helps to focus your endeavor and make your conversation relevant, a little like a book club for music. It also provides your group with a built-in-structure. For my community’s project,  I proposed digging in to Telemann’s solo fantasias for viola da gamba, recently published in an arrangement for recorder by Girolamo. The original facsimile for viol is also available on imslp, which made for a nice opportunity to refer back to the source.

Other possible projects: Telemann’s solo fantasias for recorder, Van Eyck’s Der Fluyten Lust Hof, Bach’s cello suites….the possibilities are legion.  I think a multi-part collection is a good bet, since it looks like we’ll all be immured for a while. And working on solo music seems, at least to me, a little bit less sad.

People

I selected a project first, and then put out a call to other professional players to see if anyone was interested in joining me.  Five said yes, and I am grateful to them.  While the playing levels within your learning community can vary, I do think it’s helpful if you’re all more or less in the same range- it will make it easier to dig into the repertoire and support one another. I also like an open call rather than a specific ask- some people might not need or want a project like this during this time, and that’s OK.

Procedure and Platform

Before you start, lay out some kind of schedule or procedure.  In my community, the plan was originally to tackle one fantasia per week (there are 12), but we’ve since realized we should the window for each fantasia to two weeks.  Within the course of that fortnight (and beyond), everyone is encouraged (not required!) to engage publically in some way with the selected fantasia-.  The engagement could be posing a question or making a comment, submitting a video file or even offering a live performance.  I made a private Facebook group for my learning community, but you could also communicate via email, zoom call, or another method your group finds convenient.

Ground Rules

I think this can be pretty loose, but you might consider agreeing as a group to the following:

1)    What happens in the group stays in the group (no public sharing of private files)

2)    Don’t expect perfection- of yourself or others.  Learning communities work best when you are not afraid to share, improve, and learn.

I’m only a few weeks into my project, but it’s already giving me some of the structure I need, and I’m excited to see it through. And If you form or have formed a learning community, I’m interested in hearing about it- drop me a line at anne@annetimberlake.com

Recorder in the time of COVID-19

In the face of global pandemic, what is a recorder player to do?

As I write this, my upcoming travel plans are draining away- one workshop after another is cancelling or postponing. COVID-19 is hitting the recorder world hard. So many of our activities depend on gathering together, so when we can’t, we face significant disruption.

Seeing as how so many of us may soon be hunkered at home trying to wait out the contagion, I’ve been giving some thought to how we can continue to grow musically during such an isolated and difficult time!

Here are five ideas:

Chain Your Practice

One of the few things we may soon have a wealth of is time. And how better to spend that time than making your practice habitual? Jerry Seinfeld’s “don’t break the chain” method for creative output is focused not on results, but on consistency- you get yourself a blank calendar and X out the first day you practice. Then you do it again the next day. The idea is to keep X-ing, without breaking the chain. Again, the emphasis isn’t on duration of practice- it’s on the everydayness. If you can make practice a part of your everyday, it will pay amazing dividends down the line.

Embrace solitude!

Turn isolation into a plus by tackling some of the wonderful music that’s out there for unaccompanied recorder. The postal system still works, so try motivating yourself by purchasing a quality edition of one of the following…or any other solo music that fits the bill.

• Telemann: 12 Fantasias for Solo flute (recorder version)

• Van Eyck: Der Fluyten Lusthof

• Bassasno: Ricercate

Record and Replay

Recording yourself can be uncomfortable at first, but it pays off. You’ll be able to analyze your own playing much more keenly and deeply than you can in real time, and that can only help you grow. You can also fake a duet partner by recording yourself playing one part, and then playing the other part as you play the recording back. Pro tip: If you do this, DEFINITELY use a metronome as you record. Because you won’t have two parties able to respond to rhythmic fluctuations in real time, at least one part must be rock solid.

Go Online

Facetime, Skype, Zoom, and other platforms help us connect with one another across vast distances. Although the time lag makes it impossible to play simultaneously with another person online, you are able to listen to one another play and talk back and forth with ease. Now is a great time to take some online recorder lessons, or simply call up a friend and take turns playing for one another. No mask required!

Dream

You may not be able to meet up with your fellow recorder players at the moment, but you can start thinking about what you’ll want to play when you can. Explore new music online, either via hunting for scores or listening to recordings. When the pandemic passes, you’ll be ready.

Change What You Say to Change How You Play

I’ve developed an accidental sideline teaching teachers. I think it’s because of how much I enjoy teaching recorder technique. If you’ve never received formal instruction on an instrument, it makes teaching technique more difficult, so I have a number of experienced musicians and teachers in my studio who have sought me out to help ground their recorder instruction and fill in technical gaps.

I love all teaching, but I especially enjoy teaching teachers because they are interested in, and very thoughtful about, the learning process.  I inevitably come away from my lessons with teachers having learned something new.

Case in point: A few weeks ago, I was having a FaceTime lesson with a teaching colleague who is looking to improve her recorder skills.  I was introducing her to long tones, that staple of recorder practice, explaining how the ultimate goal of long tones the goal of long tones wasn’t so much length as beauty- each one was a chance to practice producing your most exquisite tone.

My student looked thoughtful.

“So you call them long tones, but length isn’t the most important thing?”

The question stopped me in my tracks.  Length was definitely not the most important part of long tones, so why did I call them that?  The answer was simple: tradition.  I called them long tones because my teacher did, and her teacher before her, and because they are called long tones by other teachers all across the country.

But my student’s question was insightful.  By calling something a “long tone,” I was priming students for prioritization of length, even though tone quality was the more important learning goal.  And sure, I could explain and elaborate, steer students away from taking enormous breaths to squeeze out notes for as long as possible, but why was I using a word I would subsequently need to spend energy fighting against?

I’m going to rename “long tones.”   I haven’t figured out the perfect thing to call them yet, but I’m determined that it will be something that more directly primes my students for what the exercise is about.  “Tone work,” maybe, or “smooth tones.”  (If you have any brilliant ideas, let me know!)

Because if you’ve managed to become an adult, you’ve long since realized that the old playground adage “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me” is false.  Words are powerful.  They can hurt you, but they can also help you.  And thanks to my student, I’ve been thinking a lot about how changing the words we use can help us be better musicians.

Another substitution I’m planning to make is swapping “fast” for “fleet.”  “Fast” conjures forward-leaning effort, and tends to lead to tension and fear.  “Fleet,” on the other hand, conjures lightness and ease, which is much more what I’m usually after.

And I routinely substitute “challenging” for “hard.” Challenging carries with it implicit effort, and the idea that effort can surmount difficulty.  “Hard “ is just….hard. I also use “emerging” in place of “poor” when describing sight reading, because we are never, ever stuck where we are.

How can you shift what you say to improve how you play?

The five things I wish every one-day workshop student knew

Leading a class at Pinewoods Early Music Week

2020 seems to be my year for one-day workshops.   I always give a few, but in 2020 I am slated to give a somewhat shocking 10. (Please come join me in Lakeland, FL; Atlanta, GA; Palm Beach, FL; St. Louis, MO; Manhattan, KS; Boston, MA; Quincy, IL; Buffalo, NY; Nashville, TN, and Philadelphia, PA! I will probably still be standing at the end!)

I enjoy one-day workshops. They’re an interesting middle ground between a chapter meeting and a full-on weeklong recorder extravaganza. You don’t usually get the breadth and depth a weeklong workshop offers, but you do get the chance to devote yourself wholly to playing and learning for one full day.  And there is usually free coffee!

With the number of workshops I’m doing this year, I’ve been thinking a lot about what would help a student get the most out of a one-day experience. So here are the five things I wish I could make sure every student knew before signing up:

1) We’re here to help!  

Your clinician is not here to judge you, your playing, or your chapter’s playing.  We’re here because we love helping people make music in community, and we want to grow your skills and deepen your enjoyment.  We genuinely love what we do, and we’re excited to introduce you to some of the music we love! 

2) You’ll feel overwhelmed- or underwhelmed.  Or both.

Of the one day workshops at which I’ve taught, the majority feature only one clinician.   This means that players of many differening levels are together in one big group.  It is therefore impossible for your clinician to select music at the perfect level for all members of the group (though we do have some tricks up our sleeves to help balance levels).  Some of the music will be too hard for some of you.  Concentrate on doing the best you can do in the moment, and remember that every person is at a different place on his or her musical journey, and that is 100% OK! Conversely, some of the music may feel too easy for some of you.  Spoiler alert: No music is ever too easy for anyone.  There is always something you can learn while playing.  If a piece feels too easy, give yourself an extra assignment, like mentally tracking the alto part, or concentrating on producing your most beautiful sound.

3) Try a little technique 

As a clinician, I always try to work a little bit of technique into my one day workshops, either formally or informally.  And I highly recommend that students be on the alert for these technical nuggets.  You can always play through music on your own, but technical expertise is part of what you pay a professional for.

4) Go in with a goal.

When I recommend a one-day workshop to one of my private students, I will often either give them, or ask them to develop, a goal.  This could be as simple as playing the last note of every piece, or trying out tenor on one piece.  Talk to someone from another chapter (one day workshops often draw regionally) or sit next to someone you’ve never played beside before.  Your goals are only limited by your imagination! But you’ll get more out of a workshop if you go in with one.

5) You’ll get tired

Most one-day workshops feature at least four 1.25 hour playing sessions, with maybe some technique mixed in.  That is a lot more playing than most people do on most days, so by the end of the day, it is more than likely that you’ll be both physically and mentally tired. Hopefully in a good way!  But prepare for the fatigue, and cut yourself some slack as the day wears on.  By 4:00 PM, you likely won’t be as fresh or as sharp as you were at 9:00 AM, and that’s OK.  Making sure you have plenty of water (or, ahem, free coffee) to drink can help, as can reminding yourself to play in a relaxed way. And don’t be afraid to take breaks when you need them: Your clinician understands, and will not be offended.

Happy workshopping, and I’ll hope to see you on the road!

All I really need to know about dealing with my inner critic, I learned from my three-year-old.

Perhaps it is a side effect of parenting two small and intermittently obstreperous beings, but lately my teaching metaphors skew toddler.  Make a face like a fish!  Spit! Blow through the notes like you’re pushing spaghetti through cheerios!

Hopefully my students will wait me out until I can get back to rivers and pearls.

But there’s one facet of music-making in which thinking like a parent pays immediate and powerful dividends. And that’s dealing with your inner critic.

Most of you have met your inner critic. I sure have. It’s that insidious, interior voice that whispers to you while you’re playing.  It says “oh, hey, you’re about to mess up.”  Or, “geez, you sound terrible.”  “You’re never going to get this.” “Why are you even bothering.”  “Failed again!”

But here’s the thing: Your inner critic is basically a three-year-old.  However savvy it is about your vulnerabilities, however fulsome its vituperative vocabulary, it responds to the same techniques that work on small children.  And knowing that, you may already have the tools you need to keep your inner from running amok:

Set up for success:

Teachers and parents know to set up a kid’s environment to facilitate good behavior. You don’t leave your Ming vase lying around if you don’t want it smashed. You don’t put out a candy bowl if you don’t want to fight over Kit Kats.  If you want your inner critic to behave, set yourself up for success by making sure you’ve practiced adequately and in a variety of contexts.

Give it a job:

Kids make trouble when they have nothing to do.  But if you give a kid meaningful, engaging work, chances are they’ll be too busy to misbehave.  Your inner critic is the same way.  Your conscious mind can really only deal with one thing at a time, so if you can occupy it with specific job, it can’t start to make trouble. Try listening to the bass line as you play, concentrating on tone, or keying in on the feeling of relaxation in your fingers.  This is probably the technique that is most useful for me personally.

Speak slowly, clearly, and positively:

Little kids do best when you give them a brief, specific instruction that’s positively phrased. Your inner critic is the same way. If you feel your inner critic start to kick in and want to stop it, try a simple rejoinder like “enough.”

Ignore, ignore, ignore:

You may not be able to control what your three-year-old does or what your inner critic says to you.  But you can definitely control your reaction. If you pitch a fit when your three-year-old draws on the wall to get your attention, he’ll probably repeat the action. Similarly, if you have a big physical or verbal reaction every time you make a mistake (UGGGGGHHHH! GOD!!! WHY?!?), you’re reinforcing the idea that mistakes are a big, scary, awful deal.  If you keep calmly moving past them, they lose their power.

Don’t take it personally

I once asked a successful pre-school teacher what her secret was.  “I don’t take anything they do personally,” she said. This is a useful tack to take your inner critic, too. Your inner critic is not your fault, nor is its presence a reflection on your worth as a person or a musician.

It’s a marathon, not a sprint

This is what we parents tell ourselves when the floor is covered with spaghetti sauce and two children are screaming to get on our laps at the same time.  No single pasta disaster or practice session or performance is the be all and end all.  Whatever happens in the moment, pick yourself up and keep on playing.

Aim High: Sharpen Your Soprano Skills

Photo credit: Tim Brown

This post also appears as part of the American Recorder Society’s ARS Nova eMag. To subscribe to ARS Nova, click here.

Ah, the soprano recorder- scourge of ensembles... childhood torture device… a thing of beauty and a joy forever!

Confession time: I wholeheartedly adore the soprano recorder.  I pretended for a long time that the tenor was my favorite size of recorder, but I was lying to myself.  My favorite size is the soprano. It is clear, pure, and melodic.  It’s exquisitely sensitive.  And it is very, very easy to hear.

But as it is with so many of us, the soprano’s strengths are also its weaknesses.  Because of its sensitivity, it is easy to play out of tune.  And because of its power, every little slip-up is spectacularly audible.  Couple that with the fact that many beginning players start on, or only play, soprano, and you can see why the instrument gets a bad rap. 

And that’s sad! Played well, the soprano can be stunning.  It just requires extra care- and of course, practice.  If you’re looking to increase your comfort on the soprano, here are my top tips:

Consider the alto

Don’t laugh!  I know that’s an odd start to a soprano primer, but if you are a beginner looking to join an ensemble, consider learning the alto first, unless there is a particular reason not to. The alto is a slightly more forgiving instrument with greater flexibility of role, and you’ll be able to learn the nitty-gritty of producing a nice sound before you have to soar into the stratosphere.  You’ll also be more popular in ensemble.  

Sips of air

Here’s the thing about soprano- the amount of air you should be dealing with is only slightly more than the volume of your resting breath (that’s the air you take in and exhale while you are sitting reading this article).  It’s exatraordinarily easy to overblow on soprano, and that will not produce a nice sound.  So when you inhale, think of taking in (and spending) small sips of air.  You never want to take in more air than you need on the recorder, and for the soprano, you often need less than you think.

No fear!  No apologies!

Overblowing is more common than underblowing, but I also hear soprano players who seem to be afraid of, or sorry for, for, their sound.  The soprano recorder is like a three-year-old.  You must show it, kindly, that you are in charge. Screaming and yelling at the three-year-old does not work.  But neither does hesitation and fear.  The three-year-old will listen if you are calm and confident.  People WILL hear you if you’re playing soprano, and you shouldn’t apologize for that with your tone 

Practice

It almost, but not quite, goes without saying.  If you want to get better at playing the soprano recorder, you must practice the soprano recorder.  Every recorder is different, and while practice on one may generalize to some extent on another, the only thing that will really work is specifically practicing the thing at which you want to improve..  If you only play soprano during ensembles, and never on your own time, you’re missing out on an opportunity to improve your ensemble playing.  Time spent practicing soprano with a drone is particularly useful.   

Listen hard

Here’s the thing- soprano recorder players must listen harder, and more tenaciously, than anyone else in the ensemble.  Why do I say this?  First, the intervallic distance between you and the bass is larger than it is for any other part.  In order to play in tune with the bass, you have to cast your ear down through a vast gulf of octaves.  That can be tricky, so you definitely need to be paying attention.  You’re also super audible on the soprano, so if you’re not listening, it’s immediately apparent.  Then there’s issue of melodic temptation- you often have nice melody parts when you’re playing soprano, so the temptation to listen too much to yourself can be great! Resist!  If you’re playing soprano, your ears should be wide open.

Check your hearing

It is an unfortunate truth that our high frequency hearing is usually the first thing to go.  If you are aging, and/or you’ve accumulated noise exposure in your lifetime, there is a solid chance that your high frequency hearing is not what it used to be.  This can be extremely problematic for playing in tune in the soprano’s range, as you may not be able to hear all the acoustic information you need to accurately adjust your pitch. If you are concerned that your high frequency hearing is compromised, see an audioloigst.  You can also ask a buddy to check your tuning if you can’t trust your own ears, or periodically check in with a tuner. 

See you in the stratosphere!

How to Deal with Envy

I know you know the feeling: you’re scrolling through someone’s Facebook feed, or reading an upcoming concert announcement, and there it is-  someone else playing that awesome gig you really wanted, someone else teaching that workshop you used to do, someone else forming a group you really wish you’ belonged to, someone else breaking in an instrument you’d sacrifice a decent chunk of your future cheese-eating to get your hands on.

Ah, someone else. We all know someone else, because someone else is a fixture. Someone else is multi-talented.  Someone else knows everyone, and can do everything. Someone else will always, always be traveling alongside us on the road.

Because the arts are a competitive field, other people’s successes can, at times, feel like personal failures.  Why not me? I might ask, when I see someone else snag that terrific job.  What’s wrong with me?

As musicians, I think more of us struggle with professional envy than we let on.  Envy is not attractive, and it is not something other people want to be around.  And so most of us simply stew in it silently, or try, with varying success, to crush it.

So here’s my call for change.  Let’s talk about envy. Because guess what?  Like everything else we do in music, we can get better at managing envy with the aid of our hero, deliberate practice!

Next time you catch yourself mired in envy, try coming up with a response, a script or routine you can practice running through every time unhelpful, envious thoughts bubble up. 

If you’re thinking: I really wanted that.....

Try: I’m grateful for...  For every person you envy, there is probably someone who envies you.  I may not have gotten X gig, but I did get Y.  I may not get to do Z, but A was pretty amazing while it lasted.  Any time you become fixated on what you don’t have, take the time to run through a list of the things you do have.

If you’re thinking: She’s so better much than I am….

Try: What can I learn?  Envying someone’s skills can be incredibly motivating.   What is it about X’s playing that you love, and how can you improve your skills in that area? What makes Y such a terrific teacher, and what can you do to be more like her?

If you’re thinking: That’s not fair….or, What’s wrong with me…. 

Try: Do the work. You’re making music because, at some level, you love the work, the actual process of doing what you do. I play because I love the work.  I teach because I love the work. When I can focus myself on the labor itself, as opposed to its fruits, I am stronger and more grateful.

I’m still practicing- and I hope you will, too.

How to Pick the Perfect Tempo

How fast should I go?

Hint: Not this fast

This is one of the most frequent questions I get from students, and it’s also a question I repeatedly ask myself in the course of my own music preparation.   Tempo can make or break a piece, and choosing the right one is an essential part of your job as a musician.

Of course, “the right tempo” is a bit of a misnomer because there is usually a range of “perfect” tempos that can work for a particular piece, and that range often broadens as you gain expressivity and skill as a musician.

But if you choose a tempo that doesn’t work, both you and your listeners will know it: The piece will, in some essential way, refuse to come alive. Finding the right tempo is like plugging music into an electrical circuit: Suddenly, it shines.

So how do you choose? Unfortunately for quick-fix fans, the decision is fairly complex, requiring a consideration of multiple, often interlocking factors.  So buckle up, folks: this is going to be a long one.

What is the tempo designation?

When you start to think about tempo, this is the obvious starting point. An adagio is going to be slower than an allegro, for example, and a larghetto is going to be faster than a largo. Great!

But you have to be careful, because it isn’t, as many students want it to be, a straight shot between vivace and the handily shaded vivace range on your metronome.  First of all, metronomes were invented in the nineteenth century, so you really shouldn’t apply a modern-day metronome maker’s take on vivace to music written in, say, 1727.  And for baroque music, tempo designations are often most usefully interpreted as designations of character, not speed (though these concepts are intertwined).  Vivace, for example, means “lively,” and you can be lively at a variety of different speeds

How fast can you play the piece with ease?

This provides you with an obvious upper limit for your tempo selection.  Notice I said “how fast can you play the piece with ease?” and not “how fast can you play the piece?” When you play with ease, you have relaxed body positioning.  You can play with good consistency, as well as with a minimum of mental and physical effort.   If you can’t play a piece with ease within the range of that piece’s musically desirable tempos, you should probably choose another piece to perform in public, although playing at a slower tempo can still be a fabulous learning experience.

What do you know about the piece?

This is where you get to break out all the musical knowledge you’ve been steadily squirreling away from teachers, books, articles, and colleagues.  A chorale, for example, will have a tempo that is very different from a dance….and if you’re playing a dance, the type of dance matters.  A sarabande is going to have a very different tempo (and character) from a gavotte- though to add complexity, this can vary by time period and geographic origin.   If a piece is vocal, you know the tempo needs to be slow enough for the text to be comprehensible.   If you know Bach wrote a flute sonata for a player of particular skill, that piece might be faster than some other works for flute.  A triple meter often suggests more speed than a duple meter.  And on and on. Nerdery for the win!

What’s the mood?

Mood is another tempo indicator, often entwined with key.  Something doleful in minor is probably going to be slower than something peppy in major, though there are always exceptions.  On a more fine-grained level, it tends to work well to select a few words to describe the character of the piece, and use them to help guide you toward a tempo.  Is a piece martial?  Forlorn?  Cute? Lyrical?  All of these suggest different speeds.  And if there is text, what is its content?  You’re definitely going to take a piece about, oh, say, chickens at a different speed than you’re going to take a piece about death.

What is the harmonic rhythm or density?

This is among the most nerdy and intimidating of tempo clues, but it is also one of the most useful, so it’s absolutely worth learning how to assess.  Basically, we are asking ourselves: How easy is a piece to listen to?  As listeners, we need more time to process complex harmony than simple harmony, and we need more time to process changes in harmony than we do harmony that stays the same.  So if a piece has a lot of different chords, one after another, the performer has to take it slower than a piece that features only a chord or two per bar. Or if a piece has complex or unusual harmony, it’s likely to be slower than a piece that contains only two or three chords.

If you haven’t yet had the chance to hack your way through a music theory course or two, a pretty fair cheat, at least in pieces with figured bass, is to look at the numbers underneath the staff.  Are there are a lot of them, and are they close together?  Then you likely have a piece with high harmonic density/complexity, and you should take it relatively more slowly.  Are there only a few in the whole piece?  You’ve probably got low harmonic density/complexity, and you might consider going faster.

What just happened?  What will happen next?

Say you’ve just played an andante as the opening movement of your sonata.  Next comes an allegro ma non troppo.  If you play them at a tempo that is too similar, your listeners are going to get bored.  If every slow movement in your partita is exactly the same tempo, your listeners are going to get bored.  If every piece on a program is played as fast as possible, your listeners are going to get bored….you get the idea. The name of the game is contrast, and in general, the more, the better.  

Red herrings

Here are some things I DON’T think about when I try to find a piece’s best tempo.

Note values   This is a common misapprehension among beginning musicians.  A piece isn’t slow just because there are two whole notes per bar.  Nor is it fast just because you see a lot of black notes.  

Breathing  Your breathing should adapt to your tempo, not the other way around. Don’t take things too fast simply because you would otherwise have to take a breath. Instead, learn to breathe quickly and quietly, without interrupting the musical line.

The named ranges on your metronome  Step away from your metronome’s tempo chart.  Just step away. 

How fast that one dude was playing it on Youtube Maybe it works for him, maybe it doesn’t- but you want something that works for you.  And Youtube is full of crazy. 

I’ve done everything you said: Now what?  

In a word, experiment. Take all your data, make your analysis, and try out some tempos.  Some will feel too fast or too slow; one, or several, may feel “right.” And some may feel “right” only with practice, so it’s worth giving things more than one shot. Over time, your tempo selection process should become faster, more intuitive and, I hope, more fun!

Five Ways to Practice Performing Without Leaving Your Living Room

The only way to get better at performing is to perform.

You may have heard this one.  I know I have. It’s even come out of my mouth a time or two.

But the thing is, it’s not entirely true.

Yes, there’s a lot of truth to it. Practicing the tricky bits of a Handel sonata in your living room feels a whole lot different then playing them in front of a crowd, and the only way to really understand that, deep in your bones, is to take a deep breath and head onstage.

Performing and playing are intimately related skills, but they are different, and if there’s anything I’ve learned in my years of playing and teaching, is that effective practice is skill-specific. In other words, you must practice exactly what you want to learn. 

Let’s say you have a performance in October...but that performance is your only scheduled performance, and it’s already August. How are you supposed to prepare? You’re not looking to be bodily assumed into Carnegie Hall, but you do want to do justice to the music you love. If the only way to get better at performing is to perform, are you out of luck? Should you simply throw up your hands and hope for the best?

You could, but you could also harness that most human of superpowers, self-deception!

In short, you can create situations in which some part of you believes you are performing, even if you’re not.

How, you ask? There are a lot of options, but here are five:

Keep going.  Often, when we practice, we are not running through our entire piece.  Instead, we zero in on difficult passages, trying out different interpretations, fixing mistakes, and seeking to improve our execution.  And that is as it should be! But it’s also important to get in a few “performance” runs, in which you practice keeping going no matter what.  Continuing to play after a mistake is a skill, and you need to practice it. 

Mirror, mirror. One of the simplest ways to trick yourself into thinking you’re being watched is to  play in front of a mirror.  A mirror is not an audience, but it does increase your self-awareness in the same way an audience does, and that can be a helpful trick.

Record yourself.  This is maybe my favorite way to fake myself out.  If you’re recording yourself, you feel some of the same pressure not to make mistakes as you’ll feel in performance.  You also have the bonus of a recording you can play back to get a better sense of what you want to change or improve about your playing.

Play for Spot.  Try playing for your pet (if he or she will stay still).  Do not take the pet’s reaction personally! Spouses, parents, and children are other, sometimes more docile, options.

Phone a friend.  Do you have a friend or relative who is willing to Skype with you for ten minutes?  Perhaps you have a colleague who wants to do a performance exchange?  Make a Skype date and “perform” over the ether for one another. 

Good luck!

Process vs. Product

How do you get a student to articulate more clearly?

This topic came up in the faculty lounge at a recent workshop (I know- we recorder teachers know how to party).  Clutching our workshop snacks, we began to call out suggestions.  Review oral anatomy!  Shape the desired tongue placement from an /s/!  Cue teeth closed!   Anchor tongue against back teeth!  Think about spitting a watermelon seed and shape from there!

The inquiring teacher had tried a number of these tricks, but he filed away the new ones to bring back at home.  

Then a colleague chimed in with “tell the student you want a clearer sound.”

“Huh,” we said.

“I haven’t tried that,” mused the first teacher.

It was a good reminder for me.  As a teacher, and particularly as a teacher with a strong interest in technique and a detailed knowledge of the anatomy and physiology behind what we do as recorder players, I tend to focus on process- here’s where your tongue placement should be on this particular syllable, here’s how the articulators should move, here’s what you should feel, etc.

And very often, this works.  After all, breaking down particular skills and teaching, step by step, how to acquire and execute them, is the bread and butter of teaching.  

But sometimes, with some students in some situations, you actually get further by emphasizing product- make a clear sound.  Find a beautiful tone.  Make this part smoother. 

It’s definitely not a panacea- if an emphasis on product were all that was required to learn an instrument, we’d all be instant virtuosi. But occasionally, a student can get so bogged down in the details of process that it is actually better to skip to the goal and then, once achieved, work backward from there to gain a better understanding of the steps required to meet it.

A flexible teacher is able to work from both directions, supporting process while also highlighting product, and toggling between the two as necessary.

Something to take with me as I travel homeward.

My Fourth Best Practice Hack

I used to shirk preparing my music.

This is because score prep is one of my least favorite musical activities, right behind music stand assembly and disassembly.  I resent printing out my music, dislike hole punching and taping, abhor cutting and pasting, and lack enthusiasm for binder assembly. And don’t even get me started on numbering my measures.

As a result, I used to postpone this chore as long as possible, often until hours before the gig.  This ultimately was a time waster- practicing with an unprepared score or part is simply less efficient than practicing from something that is performance ready.

Then, a few years ago, I discovered a simple cognitive trick that allowed me embrace (or at least tolerate) all the musical chores I’d been squirming out of.

I called them practice.  

See, I’m pretty good at getting myself to practice.  On the “Big Five” personality traits, I score the highest on conscientiousness. I may not be able to practice as much as I did when I was young and unencumbered by adult obligations (anyone else spend hours tracking down a gutter company this week?), but it’s an extremely rare day that I don’t practice at all, and I prioritize it in my schedule.

By calling music preparation “practice,” I suddenly had time for it, because I’d blocked out time to practice.  I also found myself resenting it less- instead of having to take time I didn’t have for a dreaded chore, I was fulfilling my obligation to practice.  And the time it took away from more traditional practice was time I ultimately got back by not having to shuffle through stacks of paper hunting for my music, or negotiate reading from too many pages at once.

I’ve since done the same thing with recorder maintenance (another hated chore), music organization, and directed listening, which is something I don’t hate, but which tended to get pushed to the back burner.  

In short, by making my definition of practice more elastic, I am able to accomplish more.

And you know what, these tasks really are practice. They are activities I undertake to improve my playing, and what is practice if not that?

If your challenge is getting yourself into the practice room in the first place, this hack may not work for you.  But it’s been a game changer for me, and for several of my students.  

So happy practicing, whatever form it takes! (And my best, second-best, and third-best practice hacks? Try here, here, and here.)