It's What's On The Inside That Counts

Is it really December 8th? It still feels like September based on this week's weather...time flies when you live in Florida!

                                                                  Print by Hazel Nicholls

The semester is ending with or without me, and I've been reflecting on everything that's happened in the past four months.

In my lesson last week, I told my teacher: "I feel like I've done nothing this semester. I'm worried I'm going to fail flute lessons."

I had accomplished a few Karg-Elert Caprices and essentially, one movement of the Uebayashi Sonata. In my undergraduate career, I would knock off 10 or more pieces in a semester, and at least 20 etudes. Clearly, I'm feeling like a failure for not even completing one new piece in its entirety.

My teacher encouraged me to list all of the things I had done, reminding me that repertoire was not intended to be my focus this semester:

I changed my tonguing, improved the placement of my jaw, clarified the idea of support, improved vibrato, improved projection, changed the angle of my upper body allowing me to uncover more of my lower lip (therefore improving flexibility)... and I learned how to circular breathe!

What I learned this semester is that it can be terrifying to go through an inward journey. We're constantly comparing ourselves to those around us, and when you feel as though you have nothing to show on the outside, it becomes difficult to feel valuable.

I had to give up my comfortable habits of playing to replace them with better ones, and there were times when I was completely unable to make any sounds at all. My teacher knew I was ready to study this way, and she was aware that it was a healing process I needed.

There were times when I stopped believing in myself-- I stopped believing that I was good at anything. That's a very frustrating feeling to have when you stop and realize: "I'm pursuing a Masters degree in flute playing... and yet I can't make a sound." I always trusted the process. Even when I was frustrated, I was grateful for the opportunity to struggle, and I absolutely trusted my teacher. She is the most perceptive and intuitive person I've ever met. She knows her students better than they know themselves, and she fosters life-changing experiences during 50-minute flute lessons EVERY week. Honestly. I left EVERY lesson with tears.

I am learning to practice for myself and for my future, not for up-coming performances. Re-establishing my foundation will help me to improve more than practicing pieces ever will. During most of my performances this semester, my mind was saying: "I don't know how to play anymore!" Performing anyway was a chance to struggle, and a chance to grow.

The most important things I learned this semester:

1. Courage.
2. Trust. Trusting your teacher leads to self-trust.
3. Gratitude. For the opportunity to struggle.
4. Self-healing is vital, and it starts with being honest with yourself.
5. Letting go. For the opportunity to grow beyond what was previously possible.


"When you want something you've never had, you have to do something you've never done."

"Give me your elbows!" // Karg-Elert Video!

Another post inspired by a student!

While preparing to play a long passage of soft, repeated notes, I noticed my student's arm structure tense upward: her elbows and shoulders raised. I asked her if I could place my hands under her elbows as she played, and she agreed.

"Give me your elbows. Let them release into my hands." I asked her to play while letting me hold her elbows, and we were both amazed at how easy it was to play the long, difficult line at a very soft dynamic.

Amy Porter first introduced me to this idea, and it is astounding how much of a difference it makes. Inhibiting the habit of tensing the arm structure and bringing the elbows up is something that all flutists should be aware of. Not only does it become easier to breathe and move fingers freely, it also prevents pain.


Additionally, I have been promising myself that I would memorize Karg-Elert Caprice Number 4. I found myself having to stop to think logically about notes and patterns with this one, and I'm excited to take on more Caprices! 

Play Better by Doing Nothing

I'll just apologize in advance, but every post between now and December is going to contain some indication of my love for fall.

I would like to express that I miss foliage. I am also sad to have missed our cranberry harvest this year. (These photos were taken at home last October.) 

Now on to flute-related fun! This post is inspired by an exciting lesson I had with one of my wonderful students.

After she played her piece once, I asked her simply to listen to what she was playing instead of trying to create sound.

"WOW" was my response. I am continuously surprised by how much of a difference this simple mental change can make in one's playing.

Her sound had opened up tremendously-- her tone was more resonant, articulation improved, the ends of notes were less abrupt, and I heard a greater sense of direction in phrases. She also gained a greater sense of presence in the room-- she looked effortless.

During his master class two weeks ago, Jean Ferrandis continuously asked each of us to "stop reading the music." He emphasized that the best musicians never read the music, but instead hear the sound they want. "You do not need to try to make the sound. When you hear the music, the sound will always happen on its own."

Hear the sound you want as you play. It's important to have a sound concept, either from another flutist's recording of a piece, another instrument, a color, a mood... sound can be inspired by anything, and your sound will automatically improve when you play with intention.

Listening is the key to creating an effortless and compelling performance, but it can be difficult to maintain this mentality for an entire piece. We lose focus, start thinking of other things, start inching closer to the notes on the stand, and we lose awareness of ourselves and the outside world.

Beginning a piece by saying: "It is my intention to listen to the music as I play" can make a tremendous difference. It also reduces the pressure we often feel to play perfectly. Our tendency is often to try to create sound-- what a relief it is to know that a great sound comes from doing nothing!

Open your ears to open your sound. It makes a bigger difference than you might realize!

Happy October!

It's October! (Though based on the fact that it is 86 degrees, I'm going to call it "August: Part III.")

I missed my chance to post during the entire month of September, and that's a reflection of just how busy the first few weeks of school have been. Wonderful things have happened in the past month, and I feel incredibly grateful to be a member of such a thriving community of musicians.

1. I bought a piccolo! Burkart Professional model with Wave headjoint. I am in love. It has a gorgeous, flexible sound. I can even taper in the upper register! What a wonderful change it is to not be completely panicked through an entire rehearsal!

2. Jean Ferrandis visited our studio to teach master classes and present a recital. My jaw was on the floor every time he played, and his "Afternoon of a Faun" performance gave me the chills. It was such a joy to meet him!

3. Andover Educator and flutist Rhonda Cassano visited from Jacksonville to present a Body Mapping workshop, and she gave me a private lesson that completely reawakened some important ideas about breathing and movement. We first met at Amy Porter's Anatomy of Sound masterclass in 2011. I learned a lot from her!

4. Every single lesson I've had with Professor Amsler has been life-changing. She is an intuitive teacher, and she genuinely cares for her students, offering the most encouraging learning environment possible. We're going back to the fundamentals, and I feel that I'm on a wonderful journey that will lead me to more mature playing. I'm thrilled about this! She has helped me to clarify many of the Body Mapping ideas I've been confused about, as well. I'm so grateful to have such an incredible teacher!

I've been trying so many new ideas in the past few weeks that I'm still feeling overloaded. As I continue to refine these new techniques, I will be writing about them each week. Stay tuned for some exciting tips!

Back to School!

Packing, moving, unpacking, upper respiratory infection, auditions, buying a new piccolo, getting to know a new city, new school, new people, hurricane panic...

A lot is happening. But mostly, I'm thrilled to be starting the semester as a teaching assistant at Florida State.

Because the practice rooms at FSU do not have music stands in them, I've felt encouraged to spend more time working in front of the mirror.

Today, I decided to open my mouth, stick my tongue out, and take a look at the back of my mouth and throat. The photo from the Soft Palate post is helpful.

In doing so, I realized that there's more space back there than I realized. I consciously know that the back of my tongue is the front of my throat, but in observing it in the mirror, I was able to understand how air moves up and out of my wind pipe and into my mouth. I could envision air spilling up and over my tongue. Additionally, I was able to relax my tongue, knowing that only the tip is necessary for articulation. After experimenting, I was able to double-tongue faster and with more "support." 

What does "support" mean? My next post will identify what "support" is and is not.

The Soft Palate

Another quickie:

While attempting to play fluidly in the low register at a warm mezzo-forte, I found myself wanting to adjust to avoid cracked notes. I found myself pulling my embouchure back, which forced me to adjust within my mouth.

I know that being aware of the soft palate and the volume inside the mouth can increase resonance, so I reminded myself to "notice the soft palate," "allow the soft palate to lift."

(The soft palate is the "back" of the roof of the mouth. Trace your tongue along the roof of your mouth moving backwards. Towards the front, the roof of the mouth feels hard. As you move back, you reach a point where it becomes softer, almost squishy. This is the soft palate.) 

Upon bring the soft palate into my awareness, I felt less need to pull my embouchure back. I had more control over my lips to shape the more fluid airstream that I was producing.

I find it helpful to picture the journey of the air while I breathe and play. I remind myself what movements are necessary to breathe, and I inhibit anything that could interrupt a natural breath, such as tension within the mouth.

Air comes first because it creates the sound. The lips shape the air. 

This simple equation reminds me of the fundamentals while practicing, and helps me resolve issues such as cracked notes and lack of resonance.

Relaxed Ears = Better Double-Tonguing?

Goodbye, Hamptons. I've ended work at the golf club and moved back home for a week. This time next week, I'll be in my new apartment in Florida!

I have four days at home to practice and pack, and my flute is like new after a COA. (My repairman is like a therapist. A new cork in the headjoint and I'm smiling once again.)

In my mad rush to feel confident with all of my audition repertoire, I came up with a new, helpful direction to avoid tension while double-tonguing.

I am practicing the third movement of CPE Bach's Concerto in D Minor. It is meant to be incredibly fast: every recording I've heard is a blazing prestissimo. While playing it up to tempo, I noticed tension in my head. It felt like I was tensing my ears.

So, I give myself a healthy intention: "Play with relaxed ears."

Big surprise: Tension reduction led to faster, smoother double-tonguing. (Who knew?!)

Making Slow Practice Meaningful

Is it just me? Or am I being haunted by slow practice?

Tons of articles are popping up about slow practice. A stranger visited and discussed it with me in my kitchen. People discuss practicing golf slowly at work. I swear I saw a commercial about it:

• http://www.bulletproofmusician.com/is-slow-practice-really-necessary/
• http://themartialartscoach.com/train-slow-to-learn-fast
• http://musiciansway.com/blog/2011/02/a-different-kind-of-slow-practice/
• http://billplakemusic.org/2012/07/18/keep-this-aim-in-mind-when-practicing-slowly/

Erica Sipes from Beyond the Notes graciously shared these quotes on her Facebook page:

"One must practice slowly, then more slowly, and finally slowly." 

-- Camille Saint-Saens

"....You cannot achieve speed by speedy practice. The only way to get fast is to be deep, wide awake, and slow. When you habitually zip through your music, your ears are crystallizing in sloppiness." ....Pray for the patience of a stonecutter. ....Pray to understand that speed is one of those things you have to give up - like love - before it comes flying to you through the back window."
-- The Listening Book by W.A. Mathieu, p. 101.

Slow practice is consuming my thoughts. So how has this influenced my most recent practice sessions?

A quote from Bill Plake sums it up nicely: "The main aim of slow practice: to learn how to move from note to note through release and balance."

Slow practice has become a wonderful opportunity for me to really integrate body mapping techniques. I've become aware of how I change from note to note. I find that I tense my neck at certain moments, my arms at others. It's like turning a microscope on: bad habits jump right out.

It is important to practice with intention. Therefore, a high level of awareness is necessary to observe, experiment, discover, and memorize healthy performance habits. And there are many things to become consciously aware of when practicing. 

When I practice slowly, I'm memorizing how it feels to play with... inclusive awareness, balance, freedom at the joints, awareness of spinal movements, a grounded feeling/equal contact of feet on the floor, freedom of the jaw and face, space between the teeth, freedom of the tongue, effective volume of the oral cavity, ease of vision, a feeling of release in the arm structures, awareness of rib movement, inhibition of my habit to maintain expansion by tensing...

And I used to think slow practice was boring.

While practicing with physical awareness, I'm naturally finding a greater musical awareness.

I continuously find that performing with ease of the body leads to easy, natural expression. Logical phrases feel intuitive. Interpretations become more compelling. Breathing is not a concern. All of it feels easy. 

That's why I'm practicing slowly.

How to Cope With a Bad Tone Day

We all have bad tone days. They are usually accompanied by the words: "I can't play." Or "I sound like a third grader." On such days, I typically want to crawl back into bed or change my major.

I don't dive right into long tones on "bad tone days." I use long tones to memorize how it feels to play with ease and resonance. I start them once they feel more productive than frustrating. 

These things make me feel better:

1. Warm up your body. The body moves best when it is free of tension. Try some tension relieving stretches or yoga poses. Go for a run. Dance in front of a mirror. At UNH, I would walk up and down three flights of stairs to get a drink of water. When I got back to my practice room, my blood was pumping and I could breathe more naturally while playing.
2. Relax. Reduce stress. Meditate. Take care of something that's taking over your thoughts.
3. Lay in constructive rest for five to ten minutes. Place your hands on your ribs to feel them moving. Watch your body breathe. Think about the gathering and lengthening of the spine. Release the A-O joint.
4. "Bobble" at the A-O joint while playing to avoid unnecessary tension.
5. Check your flute: Leaks can cause an unfocused sound. Some people recommend a COA every year, but I get them done twice a year. It depends on your flute and level of activity.
6. Is your cork loose?
7. Blow warm, moist air onto the pads. (James Galways does this in a masterclass video on YouTube. It especially helps with footjoint notes.)
8. Change rooms, if possible. A livelier room is more forgiving. I like to spend some time warming up in a better room, then return to a dull room so I can hear myself better for tone exercises.
9. Sing. Do vocal warm-ups. Sing, then play the note.
10. Sing and play simultaneously. For some reason, I've resorted to sing-playing through the exposition of Mozart's G Major flute concerto as a warm-up. I sound better playing it normally after I've done this.
11. Do other extended techniques (from Robert Dick's Tone Development Through Extended Techniques) such as whistle tones, timbral trills, multiphonics, bamboo tones... Play through one of Robert Dick's Flying Lessons etudes. These let you work on embouchure flexibility while avoiding straight tone.
12. Harmonics. Harmonics. Harmonics. There are so many ways to practice them. The most effective for me is playing a harmonic, then slurring to the true fingering. This really helps me to feel a sense of openness and resonance when I play the actual note.
13. Keep your flute warm. From then end of August to about the end of October, the band room at UNH is about 12 degrees. My flute is cold. My body is cold. It's impossible to sound good. I resorted to bringing a scarf for my flute. Also try complaining until someone turns the air conditioner off. (This does not work at the University of New Hampshire, however.)
14. Change vowel sounds. Experiment with each possible vowel sound. You might find that your natural tendency isn't the most effective for creating a resonant tone: On "bad days," I realize that my tendency is "eeee" or "ehhh" which results in a thin tone. "Ahhh," "ooooh," and "augh" allow warmer air, producing a warmer sound. Think of how each vowel sound changes the space inside the mouth. Greater volume increases resonance.
15. If time allows, come back later. I always sound best at night because my body is naturally warmed up from moving all day. As a personal note, I typically have less IBS pain in the evening, making it easier to practice.
16. Listen to a great recording. Get the flutist's tone in your head.
17. Mentally practice a tone study. Think about how it would feel and sound when played with ease and resonance. Imagine it three times in a row. Then play it. 
18. Inclusive awareness. Stop analyzing and just play. Listen back. Get to know the space behind you. Let your sound "open" by not trying. 
19. Play in the dugout position, while squatting, while laying on the floor, while bouncing on a balance ball, while pretending to sit on a bench...
20. Are you covering too much of the embouchure hole? Is your flute too high or low on your chin? If your flute is open-hole, are you covering the holes entirely?
21. If all else fails,  vivid mental practice can be extremely effective. (Spend time mentally practicing in the morning, then return to your instrument later. You might be surprised!)

How do you cope with a bad tone day?

Late-Night Kitchen Recitals // Who Do You Play For?

On Sunday night, we had a late-night visit from two friends of my host family.

One of them went to school for music and is now working in insurance.

My host mentioned that I am a musician, and at 11 pm said, "Go get your flute!"

I played some C.P.E. Bach in a kitchen recital while my roommate was making Muddy Buddies, (known in this house as 'puppy chow.')

The musician in my audience of five was an interesting person to talk to. At first, he didn't say much, but I could he was really thinking. He asked to see my score.

He started asking me questions. The first was, "which part is the hardest for you?"

I pointed out a section in the third movement of the Concerto in D Minor, and explained that it was so difficult because there wasn't a place to breathe. He asked me to play it for him, and he was interested to see how I would handle the passage.

He complimented my technical ability, and then proceeded to analyze my score while I snacked on Muddy Buddies.

He then explained to me and my roommate that he once had a professor tell him, "choosing a major is simply choosing a point of view." Choosing what you study in college influences how you view and interpret the rest of your life. He chose music. So did I. He "views the world in harmonies," and admits that he is influenced by music in his work with insurance. Interesting thought.

Looking at my score again, he asked me if I enjoyed the music I was playing. I was quick to say yes, but he had a different angle in mind. He showed me what he meant by asking me to play one phrase from the Concerto. He asked me to cut the tempo in half. Then again. "Watch this, it's going to feel like a lullaby," he said. He pointed out that there is SO MUCH in that one phrase that needs to be enjoyed. At full speed, most of it gets tossed away. There are complex harmonies in the movement that need to be appreciated.

I read the recent article about slow practice from the Bulletproof Musician the day before, so the idea was on my mind. I told him that I try to practice slowly, but it's mindless. I'm usually just trying to get the notes. The idea of enjoying it, however, was really encouraging. Slow practice is about discovery.

He later asked me, "who do you play for?" I could tell that he was challenging me with a deep and personal question. First I said, "myself." He then led me to answer, "People who appreciate it...People that do this, too." He respected my answer, and told me that I do have a choice.

I recalled the most exciting performances that I've given, and they're the ones in which I was playing for other musicians or a room full of flute players. That might be selfish, but it's honest.

Though I've thought about what I want to do when I graduate, I haven't thought of it in a "choose your audience" kind of way. Music is about communicating with people. Who do you want to communicate with? This is an interesting question to grapple with.

Who do you play for?

Tools for a Creative Practice Session

Every time I need to order something from Flute World, I spend hours carefully shopping for everything else I might need so I can have it all shipped at once.

A FluterScooter bag has made its way onto my wishlist, so I've spent an entire day online shopping for anything else I could possibly need until (at least) September.

I came across Jennifer Keeney's Creative Practice Recipes. I've heard wonderful things about them, and I'm currently trying to make my own practice sessions as creative and inspired as possible; I definitely need some outside ideas. There are two sets of Creative Practice Recipes, and unfortunately, set one is back-ordered.

I'm impatient. So in the meantime, I created my own.

I love craft projects. And I REALLY love Staples.

I was showered and at the store before 10am. (On my day off!)

 

I had two ideas for creative practice tools:

1. Index cards similar to Jennifer Keeney's Creative Practice Recipe cards.

2. Popsicle stick practice prompts.

 

 

 

For the popsicle sticks (which were hard to come by in the Hamptons), I bought pencil cups and sticky labels. Each cup is a category: 

I have tons of tone and technique exercises that I love doing, but I can't do all of them in their entirety every day. There are just too many. I've tried making calendars and schedules for each, but it was too complicated and overwhelming. 

I'm excited about this.

The popsicle sticks in the Technique cup each have a different technique exercise, such as Taffanel-Gaubert #1, thirds, extended scales, arpeggio trill study... etc. The tone cup is similar.

I created a stick for each major and minor key, and a variety of articulations, as well. 

The "How?" cup contains adjectives that can govern style, color, vibrato, and so forth: Dark, ethereal, Baroque, stormy, tenderly, mysteriously, sensually, like a cello...

I'm planning to use them in several ways:

• Choose three major keys each day (and their relative minor keys), and do all of the technique exercises in those keys. Don't put them back in the cup until you've gone through all keys.
• Choose several technique exercises, do them in all keys, and use different articulations/styles.
• Experiment with different styles in etudes and repertoire.

 

I also bought an index card box to contain my own Creative Practice Recipes. I'm planning to include my favorite Body Mapping reminders, stretches, yoga breathing exercises, quotes from teachers and master classes, and anything else that might be a helpful reminder or a creative solution.

I'm looking forward receiving a new FluterScooter bag and Jennifer Keeney's Creative Practice Recipes soon!

Jennifer Keeney's website features tons of wonderful and inspiring articles. As does her blog: http://practiceideasforthewholemusician.blogspot.com/

I'm thinking of purchasing her ebook as well: http://www.jenniferkeeney.com/proddetail.asp?prod=231_eBook

My next project will be her "Music Goals Dream Journal for the Creative Flutist."

I've created new inspirational flute boards on my Pinterest, too: http://pinterest.com/stuffahju/

Have you used Jennifer Keeney's Recipes?

How do you practice creatively?

( r e v e l a t i o n s } Friday July 20th

Blogging from work now. Oops.

  

I made a discovery about tone and resonance in an incredibly concise practice session yesterday.

  

At the ARIA master class in 2010, Judith Mendenhall instructed us to play with "3 balloons in your chest and 3 eggs in your mouth"  to help us remember that space in the mouth is important for resonance.

I was reminded of the space in my mouth while practicing Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun. I played this excerpt for my Ohio State audition in January and it led Katherine Borst Jones to give me a mini-lesson on resonance right on the spot. She instructed me to "drop my Adam's apple" at the time.

Yesterday, however, I noticed that when I try to "drop my jaw" or "open my throat," I do just that. I try. I did achieve some slight improvement after I instructed myself to "open my throat," but before I got too excited, I considered that there might be a better way. 

Effortless is the way to go!

I released tension in my mouth. I stopped forcing and just allowed myself to feel a larger volume of space. Simply changing my approach to become less "do this" and more "allow this" made a wonderful difference. I noticed that "open throat" feeling without actually having to do anything. 

  

The "It-feels-like-I'm-doing-nothing-and-yet-my-tone-is-gorgeous-and-I-have-enough-air" feeling is the best. 

 

Asking myself "How effortless can I make _________?" helps me get there.

Play the Music, Not the Flute

Have you ever heard a recording of a 'standard' that seems to trump all others?

There are more than 50 videos of Poem by C. T. Griffes on just the first three pages of YouTube. There are at least 16 recordings available from Flute World. 

So why do I prefer Amy Porter's performance above all others?

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeghC40leAU) 

She holds my attention from start to finish.

In my opinion, this is the most engaging recording of Poem that I've heard: I'm able to get a grasp on the entire piece. I hear a journey from start to finish. I hear more of Griffes.

Her interpretation is so compelling not because it is more perfect than any other, but because it is well-planned and the piece is effectively communicated.

{ r e v e l a t i o n s } Monday, July 16th

It's been a while since I've felt productive. I decided to really work on tone today until I actually noticed an improvement that I could describe in words.

   

I have played while lying on the floor in Body Mapping lessons to note how reducing effort can increase resonance.

 Semi-Supine Position

  

Today's revelations while practicing on the floor...

• "Feel air entering through the nose or mouth and let the rest take care of itself." I find myself trying to help my body move to inhale, but it just leads to tension and awkward movements. My body does a better job taking air in when I get out of the way and simply observe the journey the air takes.
• Alexander Technique teachers suggest placing a book under your head when lying in this position. Without the book, I was very much aware airway restriction. With the book, I noticed an improvement in breathing.

Life-Changing Performances: Never Apologize

Today's post from The Sensible Flutist, 'Enriching your artistry through life experience' inspired me to reflect on my most life-changing experience as a performer. When I consider my most thrilling experience on stage, this is the performance that I think of. It was the first time I truly connected to my own emotions while listening to the piece I was playing. Personal experience truly does enrich one's art.

Last summer, as a part of my Musicians' Wellness research, I attended Amy Porter's Anatomy of Sound workshop at the University of Michigan. The guest artist was Ian Clarke, and I was to play Sunstreams for one of the first classes: Clarke compositions with little or no extended techniques.

After I played it through once, Ian asked me what I thought I could improve upon. I really didn't know what to say, so I mentioned something about giving the piece more character. Then he asked the audience what they enjoyed about it. I was surprised when many participants offered kind, positive comments.

{ r e v e l a t i o n s } Monday, July 9th

The words: "I thought I wanted a job, but it turns out I just wanted paychecks" best describe my attitude about work. I sit around thinking about practicing. Which is good. But also terrible. (I literally burst into tears one day. I really wanted to walk out the door and run home in the rain to be reunited with my long lost love...I shouldn't watch the Notebook anymore.) Anyway, making the most of my free time at home is becoming crucial, and I'm also starting to overcome my post-work tiredness to practice as efficiently as possible.

I've been decently successful with my original "Summer To-Do List" plan, though there are still a few things that I haven't even started. I've been recording myself every time I practice, and it is wonderfully helpful. If I'm limited for practice time, I record various sections at different tempi then analyze them from my bed. It's actually working out. (Nothing makes me happier than being productive from my bed.)

After practicing tonight, I have one simple revelation to report. It's almost ridiculous.

LISTEN. 

The idea to consciously listen to the music I was playing popped into my head, and VOILA! Enter effortless musicality via inclusive awareness. 

My tone was more resonant.

I was able to fill the space more.

I was no longer stumbling through difficult technical passages (even the ones I had barely practiced).

Let me just say it again:

LISTEN.

LISTEN TO THE COMPOSER.

Get out of the way and let the composer's intentions guide your performance.

 

{ r e v e l a t i o n s } Friday, June 29th

What a week.

I worked all day today, and I still managed to happily practice for two (productive!) hours.

Better than that, my practice session involved several life-changing revelations!

Before I practiced, I came across a link shared by Amy Likar on facebook:

http://www.acole.net/blog.html/day_one_summerflute_feldenkrais/  

Adam Cole was the Feldenkrais teacher at SummerFlute, and he blogged about each day at the class.
I wish I could’ve attended the class myself, after meeting Amy Likar and many other wonderful Body Mapping flutists at the Andover Educators conference last summer.

Adam graciously shared some gems from the masterclasses, and as a result, MY playing improved drastically in about 3 minutes today.

Thanks to Amy, Adam, and Liisa Ruoho, these are the top four things that I brought into my practice session today:

1. "Feel your toes."

This brought upon a lovely inclusive awareness, and allowed me to feel connected with the ground beneath my feet. Earlier this year, Dr. Jenni Cook helped me to discover that my tendency is to “pull up” from the ground and shift my weight as I breathe and begin to play. I had great success inhibiting that habit as I consciously brought each toe into my awareness. Magic.

2. "Air plays the flute, not the body." -- Liisa Ruoho

Karg-Elert Caprice #9 has made me to realize how difficult it is difficult to consciously maintain a constant stream of air. I try to practice fast, tongued passages slowly and all slurred, but this tends to be mindless and boring. I made it my intention to memorize the feeling of a continuous airstream today, and I made some decent progress. Having a great inclusive awareness reminder also made it easier to notice what my body was doing.

3. "Turn your ears back." -- Liisa Ruoho

If a teacher ever tells me that I need to "open my sound," I will immediately translate it to "turn your ears back." Adam also mentions "listening to the air behind your ears." This was pure magic. Less trying too hard. More wonderful inclusive awareness.

4. "Casually lean on a piano like you're at a party, and just play Bach."  -- Liisa Ruoho

It is SO DIFFICULT to just let go and stop trying to do. If ever I were to tattoo an important reminder on my forearm, it would say: "Just play. You don't have to do anything else."



There is nothing more encouraging that being able to say "I am a much better player than when I started" after a practice session.

To do this week: Encourage more revelations by re-reading masterclass notes and Body Mapping journals.

To do next summer: Go to SummerFlute: http://summerflute.org/

Grateful to Adam Cole, Amy Likar & Liisa Ruoho for inspiring today's practice session.

Summer Repertoire Lists: Making the Most of the Next 8 Weeks

I love summer. Fourteen weeks of beach trips, cookouts, sunburns and excessive napping. Ninety-eight days sans scholarly journal readings, discussion posts, analysis essays, listening assignments, lesson plans, daily rehearsals... Brilliant.
  
I am staying in the Hamptons with my lovely college roommate and her gracious family this summer, and I am spending most of my time working at a golf and tennis club. When I am not working, I am eating, sleeping, swimming, lounging at the beach, roaming around King Kullen (buying more Apple Cinnamon Chex and muenster cheese), or watching Veggie Tales (while stuffing my face with microwave s'mores) with an eight-year-old. And practicing. Sort of. Sometimes.
 
Fourteen weeks without flute lessons translates to fourteen weeks without the structured sense of impending doom that forces me to learn an etude every week. 
 
Every summer I feel an incredible sense of ambition to learn as much new repertoire as possible, and I always make clear goals to develop a richer tone, better intonation, a more sophisticated level of musicality, and a faster 'TKT KTK' triple tongue. (And I almost always tack 'learn how to circular breathe' onto the end of my to-do list..) 
 
On May 27th, I decided that this would finally be the summer that I conquer the Ibert Concerto and the excerpts from Prokofiev’s ‘Classical Symphony.’ Those were the goals. The plan was to keep my wishlist manageable so I could tack on whatever other pieces the spirit moved me to learn.
 
On June 13th, however, I received an e-mail from my new flute professor listing the required graduate studio fall repertoire and the repertoire for ensemble auditions.
 
Ibert very quickly returned to his home on the back-burner.
 
After choosing pieces from each category on her list, this is my new ‘to-do’ list:
 
Flute excerpts from... JS Bach: St. John Passion, Beethoven: Symphony No. 7, Bizet: Carmen, Debussy: Prelude to an Afternoon of a Faun, Hindemith: Symphonic Metamorphosis, Mozart: The Magic Flute, Ravel: Bolero, Smetana: The Bartered Bride Overture, Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier, & Stravinsky: Petrouchka

Piccolo excerpts from... Beethoven: Symphony No. 9, Prokofiev: Lieutenant Kije, & Ravel: Mother Goose Suite
 
Etudes: Karg-Elert Caprices (#4, 9, 20, 21, 23, & 30), Robert Dick Flying Lessons (#2, 5, & 6), Piazzolla Tango Etudes (#2 & 3), Bozza Arabasque Etudes (#3 & 7), & others
 
Pieces: CPE Bach: Concerto in D Minor: Mvmt. III, Karg-Elert: Sonata Appassionata, Karg-Elert: Impressions Exotiques, Bozza: Agrestide, Mendelssohn: Sonata in F Minor Op. 4, Vivaldi Concerto in G Minor "La Notte" Op. 10 #2
 
(and others that I'm not acknowledging for now, either because I've already learned them or they would've pushed my Flute World order beyond the limits of my checking account.)
 
My instinctual response to overload panic is to make a detailed calendar that painstakingly prescribes my daily practice sessions for the next 70 days. I have made dozens of these ‘calendars of destruction,’ and I always quit before day one is over.
 
So while sitting on my uncomfortable wooden stool at work (on a rainy Tuesday with no golfers wandering up to the desk asking for an Arnold Palmer), I decided to re-evaluate my previous system. 

I came up with a less daunting approach to make the most out of the next eight weeks:
 
First, I categorized. (I love charts.) Quite simply, One group is the pieces that will take more time to learn, and the other is the pieces that will take less time because I've already worked on them.
 
I decided to schedule ‘lessons’ to give myself a deadline for each group. I've given myself two weeks to polish the easier things and five weeks for the difficult pieces. The goal is to video-record myself performing each piece as I would in a lesson, then analyze each video and be my own Peggy Vagts. (I'm 98% sure that I won't come close to achieving the brilliance of Peggy Vagts.)
  
I've been recording myself anyway (using Photo Booth) to catch awkward movement habits, and I've found that my practice sessions have been much more efficient as a result.
I always find myself running through pieces at tempo when I 'practice,' so I've been avoiding performing (aka practicing mindlessly) after reading this genius article from the Bulletproof Musician: http://www.bulletproofmusician.com/how-many-hours-a-day-should-you-practice/
 
Day one was a raging success. I actually worked on an excerpt. Impending doom is where it’s at.
 
How do you approach repertoire to-do lists?