Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Practice Wisdom from Julius Baker

In an effort to pass time at work, I've been reading book after book after book. (It feels good to finally read all the books that I impulsively bought from Amazon over the last school year!)

I just finished reading "The Mastery of Music: Ten Pathways to True Artistry" by Barry Green, author of the prominent book, "The Inner Game of Music."



I highlighted a number of passages and folded tabs on half of the page corners to be able to go back and reflect on my favorite tips, which will likely result in a follow-up post.

In The Mastery of Music, Green interviewed a number of musicians and teachers in an effort to report on what he considers to be the ten pathways to artistry, which he relates to various groups of musicians. Not surprisingly, the chapter that resonated with me was, "Discipline," which he associates with woodwind players.

Green articulates wonderful advice about how to practice versus how much to practice, and includes the wonderful quote from Julius Baker:
"You'll never make a mistake if you never make a mistake."


Green emphasizes that mindless practice for prolonged periods can be counter-productive. (Also see Bulletproof Musician!) If we practice things too rapidly or mindlessly, we have a higher chance of making mistakes. There will come a point where we will have to undergo the difficult task of unlearning and inhibiting our bad habits and replacing them with new ones, which proves to be an inefficient use of practice time. Baker ingeniously articulates that it is possible to avoid this laborious process by not ingraining mistakes in the first place.

What seems to be the best advice for what should be happening when we practice?

Practice slow enough to avoid making any mistakes. Yes, it feels too easy.
If it feels too boring, however, there's a good chance your focus is not on the present.


We like to think that we're not really accomplishing anything when we remove the challenge of speed. (I am guilty of this.) However, slowing down to avoid mistakes altogether provides the opportunity to put a microscope on what we're actually doing. We are able to answer the questions of "what am I doing?" and "how am I doing that?" when we play slower. We will more likely be able to figure out why the E-flat cracked or why the C-sharp was too sharp when we're going slow enough to make more critical observations. (Also called "micro-discoveries!") This gives us the opportunity to observe and learn more about ourselves and the music, which can result in faster, more notable improvement.

A point that Green emphasizes is the importance of learning first, then practicing.  
Observe what you're doing, learn how to best achieve the desired outcome, then practice the optimal solution.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Today's Practice Notes: Melting Like a Snow Cone in Phoenix

WARM-UP

What's more fun than warming up with long tones in the morning? Singing and playing! What's more fun than just singing and playing? Playing Ian Clarke's Tuberama while blasting the backing track on surround sound speakers!


Singing and playing is one of my favorite ways to warm up. I play a few test notes, then spend 5-15 minutes improvising with singing, beat-boxing, extended techniques, breathing exercises, and so forth. (Rhonda Larson's warm-up class at the Florida Flute Association Convention featured dancing while improvising to a beat track! Who says you can't have fun while warming up?)


PRACTICE NOTES

THE BODY, THE AIRSTREAM, & THE PHRASE

  • When the airstream has a sense of forward-moving energy, phrases have a sense of forward-moving energy. 
  • The phrase is supported by the airstream, and gives a sense of direction.
  • When the body is tense, frozen, or still, so is the airstream. The phrase lacks direction and life.
  • The airstream has fluidity and ease when the body has fluidity and ease. A phrase has life when the body is free, moving, resilient. Freedom leads to resonance.


RHONDA LARSON'S MOVIN' ON FOR SOLO FLUTE

My first flute teacher and band director is retiring after 27 years at my elementary school, and I have the great honor of performing at his retirement celebration, along with many other former students.
I decided to play Movin' On by Rhonda Larson: It's symbolic, it's beautiful, and it's a less-than-five-minute piece for solo flute!

I recorded myself playing close to tempo after I had warmed up, and felt as though I had a grasp on the sound and body feeling I wanted.

After watching the recording, I noted several things:
  • I noted the places where I stumbled the most, and used this as a guide to break the piece into chunks that I will focus on over the next week.
  • The first note of each measure is a low note, generally followed by higher notes. I observed my embouchure changing in every measure.
  • Because I felt the need to re-set my embouchure for the low notes that started each measure, I failed to blow through more than a measure at a time. It disturbed the phrase, and the notes lacked the "shimmering" quality I was after.

I chose to work on the first section that had a lot of hesitation, which begins on a low F.

"What would I tell my student?" 
Watching myself on the recording put me in the position of the observer, much like I am when I'm teaching. I am able to watch and think about what I could do differently, which is why recordings are an essential tool for speeding up the learning process.
  1. "Play a really tense low F. Lift the tongue in the mouth, tense the lips, jaw, throat, toes..."
  2. "Keep blowing, then melt into the floor. Melt the body around the airstream. Let go of everything. Go through a mental checklist of things let go of: A-O joint, tongue, ankles, fingers, eyelids, tailbone, jaw, eyebrows, ears... Keep going until you've gone too far, then begin to add back." (Try Kay Hooper's "Goldilocks Effort" from the book, Sensory Tuneups!)
Result
  • When my body was tense:
    • I felt overwhelmed and consumed mentally.
    • My sound was muffled and lacked "shimmer" or resonance.
    • I felt that I was not in control.
    • I couldn't hear myself due to the mental cloud that bodily tension caused.
  • After instructing myself to "melt:" 
    • I immediately sensed a mental shift: I became an observer and felt less panicked.
    • I felt that I was in control.
    • I could hear myself better.
    • My sound opened and resonated through the house. 
    • There was a natural vibrato that added life to the spinning sound.
    • There was direction and a sense of phrase in a single note. (See above!)
I went back to the original measure, playing slowly to maintain "melted-snow-cone-status." (I can't help a good Mrs. Doubtfire Reference!)



MORE WAYS TO PRACTICE
I love savasana in yoga, especially when the instructor gently guides you to relaxation from head to toe. (I always say, "Oh, wow!" when they mention "relaxing behind the eyes.")

Practice letting go in savasana, and try a guided meditation video. Observing and releasing tension in the body without a flute makes it easier to become aware of tension while playing.

Try Savasana-Inspired Long Tones to release tension while playing!



Monday, May 20, 2013

Open Sound: Why I Love Middle C!

I'm thrilled to pieces. I want to stand on a roof and scream, "I like my sound!" Even more, I like how it feels to play this week. Why?

A colleague recently told me about a sound exercise that our teacher loves, which involves an etude with a lot of intervals and octave changes. She suggests moving everything into the comfortable middle register and practicing with the goal of staying open.

I did this several days ago, and remembered what it felt like to just breathe and let sound happen. I wasn't forcing anything into place, just exhaling. (With a flute on my face.) I allowed air in my cheeks, and I felt resonance happen, instead of trying to make it happen.

I found it easiest to achieve this open feeling when I left the tongue out entirely. I simply let the air start the sound. I also stopped worrying about where my lips should go or if my tongue was tense or in the way.

I was so thrilled with my sound, I immediately tore my bookshelves apart looking for more and more things to play! (I'm supposed to be packing to leave for the summer...) It became fun to play everything with this exact same open feeling. I've been trying to overcome my habits of making micro-adjustments from note to note, and in doing so have added some unnecessary panic and therefore tension.

Pretending that EVERY note was the same as an easy-breezy middle C did the trick! Whenever I felt my throat begin to tense, I just played middle C again and memorized the feeling.

The feeling of support that accompanies this is the natural exhale, which provides an easy, constant airstream. One of my favorite exercises is from David Vining's Breathing Book.

Watch his video demonstration here:



I played through two whole books of etudes, and realized (for the hundredth time) that sound is the most important part of practicing technique. It's really about finding the most ideal "tone set-up," and inhibiting habits that could disrupt it. Somehow, it becomes easier to move fingers faster and more evenly when you are able to trust and stay open.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

First Year? Check! Hello, Summer!

Mid-May? Already? (Does every post start with something about how time flies?)

Summer seems to be the time for blogging since I'm left to my own devices to improve as much as possible before the fall semester begins. I'm thrilled to be returning to Bridgehampton this summer, and I look forward to having plenty of time to practice, write, relax at the beach, and add to my collection of creative Starbucks misspellings. And work, of course. This whole thing started because I had plenty of "thinking time" at work last summer! (What a difference a year makes!)

While finalizing summer plans, I'm still in disbelief that I've finished the first year of my Master's degree at FSU. Of all the wonderful things I learned about music performance and pedagogy this year, the lessons I've learned about myself and life in general are by far the most prominent.

Before I go into the deep, human revelaions of my first year of grad school, here's a recap of some of my favorite moments, and of course, exciting flute tips!
  • I traveled to Orlando in January to attend the Florida Flute Association Convention. I performed with the FSU Flute Choir and the Graduate Flute Ensemble. My top 3 favorite things about the convention? 1. Hearing Rhonda Larson perform Be Still My Soul, 2. Finally buying an Altieri flute backpack (in navy!), and 3. Eating at Steak n' Shake for the first time ever.
  • I had the wonderful opportunity to play piccolo with the FSU Symphony Orchestra this semester! The high level of commitment and artistry from my colleagues was awe-inspiring, and Dr. Alexander Jimenez is an incredible musician and a wonderful human being. (I was also very happy to spend more time with the beautiful Burkart piccolo I purchased last fall!) Exciting moments include: Performing Dohnanyi's Symphony No. 2 and recording it for the Naxos label, and performing Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade last month!
  • I took beginning baroque flute this semester I found it extremely enjoyable. I'm thrilled to take the advanced class next fall. I learned a lot about Baroque music and style, and I finally came to understand the importance of the lumbar spine in support. I have previously over-exaggerated the arch of the lumbar spine in an effort to feel my sit-bones. I thought I was maintaining the curves of the spine, when I was actually adding tension to my lower back, making it very difficult to support by maintaining resilience in the pelvic floor. I'm spending a lot of time practicing while sitting or leaning against a desk to let go in my lower back, and was reminded to bend my knees while standing.
Okay, the best things I learned this year:
  • I became aware my ability to positively influence the people around me and to offer my views in a non-threatening, understanding way. Although I did not necessarily intend to change others' opinions, I noticed that I could persuade others to value my views.
  • I'm becoming extremely courageous. After learning Ian Clarke's Hatching Aliens and Joseph Jongen's Sonata, Op. 77 in a very short time for my first solo recital, I realized just how much I am capable of. (And don't think I didn't complain about "having to rush to learn difficult pieces," and said things like: "I took 6 months to prepare my senior recital!" for most of the experience!) I'm more willing to take on challenges for the experience to learn, rather than turning them down due to self-doubt.
  • Self-respect comes first. Put it on your priority list. (Also, my semester got much better when my teacher assigned me to put "Eat chocolate cake" on my to do list as a gesture of self-kindness.)
  • I became aware of my physiological reactions when nervous or frustrated, and learned that accepting negative feelings is the only way to feel in control of them.
  • I learned to be okay with being uncomfortable. (By accepting that I feel uncomfortable!) I feel ready to give up expectations and "safe" options for the chance to seek something greater- true self-fulfillment. It's okay to change the plan! 
I learned something new every day this year, and have spent the past two weeks simply reflecting. I'm sure these things will continue to sink in, and will lead me to think and practice in new ways. I'm excited for things to come, and look forward to more frequent posts from all of my summertime-fluting!


Saturday, December 8, 2012

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."

Saturday, October 13, 2012

"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! 





Monday, October 8, 2012

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!