Cadenzapalooza

First-time adventures in writing my own cadenzas.

I've decided I'm going to add tag-lines at the beginning of these posts, in case that seemed weird.  You know, so when I post the link on facebook, the first sentence that shows up under the title isn't about blueberry muffins or something....

So tonight, I finished writing out very nice-looking copies of the first drafts of my first attempts at cadenzas for the Mozart concerto, movements 1 and 2.  (I'll write one for 3 in the next few days.)  It was actually a lot of fun!  I definitely kept in the spirit of the game that I wrote about last entry.  At the beginning, I went to Blair in order to finish these cadenzas, work on reeds, and maybe practice a little.  Old mindset would have been worrying about reeds while working on the cadenzas and mangling reeds while frustrated I didn't have enough time to practice today.  New mindset said I have to write these cadenzas at some point, and if it takes a little longer tonight and I don't get to the oboe, that's OK.  Originally I was going to do them over fall break because I "wanted to have a lot of time" to do it, but I've come to realize that isn't the best mentality, and I can do just as good of a job in the middle of a school week as during a four day break.  I have to manage time according to quality of product, not quantity.

Well, about the cadenzas!  I got the part about deconstructing the themes into motives and piecing them together in interesting ways.  And I had a lot of fun snaking around different key areas.  The most difficult part for me was writing a "virtuosic" part - basically, interestingly noodley sequences.  Noodle, noodle.  I asked Professor Ploger about it, and today in Musicianship, we talked a little about sequences. She gave us a Bach Fugue (WTC Eb Major) to analyze and basically suggested that we will learn how to write best from studying fugues and written cadenzas and playing around with it ourselves.  So, I actually did give myself the time to just play around with chords and discover things for myself (learning-oriented) instead of allotting time to write the cadenza (product-oriented).  This afternoon, before embarking on my cadenza expedition, I analyzed the fugue in great detail - blue for statements of the subject, yellow for countersubject, and then identified how the motivic fragments played themselves out in the episodes (with more colors!  Green, orange, purple, grey!).  I also did a general harmonic analysis and a very specific one when it came to the sequences.  I learned SO much from doing that!  The noodley parts in my Mozart cadenzas are very Bach Eb Major Fugue inspired...

The other major difficulty I had was writing the cadenza for the second movement.  I found it to be a lot more challenging that for the first movement, primarily because the technique I used to modulate in the first cadenza is inextricably embedded in the melody of the second movement.  That doesn't seem to be too clear, I might just end up babbling nonsensically about this...but for example...I want to take the descending motive "la sol fa mi re do#"....well, what exactly do I change?  The melody already did a rather suave move from fa major to re harmonic minor.  So I ended up with a lot more embellishment, jumping octaves, and less harmonic adventure, but I'm still pleased at how it turned out.  The sequence is kinda nifty that I used because I actually come back to sol harmonic minor in a different way than I left it...

So, they aren't masterpieces, of course, but I am so proud that my first attempts turned out so nicely!  Can't wait to write the third movement's.  I know they'll be good, because I'm looking forward to some ingenious feedback from Professor Ploger and Professor Hauser.  Maybe I will show them to Dr. Rose as well...

The Excerpt Hat and Other Magic Tricks

I have devised a fun, new element to add to my daily practice. I wrote down all of the excerpts I'm working on/want to keep fresh on little slips of paper. I didn't count, but looking back I'd estimate around 25. Well, my original idea was to put them in a hat, but I didn't have a proper hat in the reed room (even though there is actually a box of hats in there, but no suitable hats for pulling rabbits out of). Instead, I folded the slips of paper and put them in one of the wine glasses from that time we played the Schwantner in orchestra. Uh, the piece involved the oboists playing pitched wine glasses, you know, filling them with a certain amount of water and then gliding a finger around the rim to make squealy ringy noises.

Okay, back to the magic excerpt hat. Er, wine glass. Magic Excerpt Wine Glass. The plan is that every time I sit down to a new practice session to pick a slip of paper, solfege the excerpt first, then give myself one chance to play it really well. And then move on. If I'm unhappy, I can practice it later of course, but part of the exercise is to really ask myself to play it well straight away, not allowing myself to practice hard bits first or play with a metronome first. Allllsooo, if anyone walks into the reed room or knocks on the door, I will ask them to pick an excerpt from the Magic Excerpt Wine Glass and then perform it for him or her.

You know what that means. If you're a Blair student, you should knock on the door if you're passing by and ask me for an excerpt!!! It'll only take 3 minutes or less, and if you have to run, you don't have to stay and listen! I may put a sign on the door inviting passersby in...

So another big thing I've been thinking about - particularly with all the exercises we do in musicianship, but also really with everything I enjoy doing - reading, practicing, etcetera - what it was/would have been like to do those things as a child. I dwell on this mostly because of how frustrating many of the exercises in musicianship are. It's already frustrating when I have a hard time getting the hang of something, but it is aggravated by my knowledge that if I were 3 or 5 or 6 and doing the same thing, it would be no effort at all to become fluent in the same concepts on the same level. I don't remember anything ever being difficult for me as a little kid. I either chose to learn something or I chose not to. For the longest time, I thought learning how tell time was really dumb and useless, and so refused to learn how. Same for learning how to read music...clearly got over that at some point.

Funny how one of those things that I refused to learn, I think, is standing way in the way of getting back to the me who refused to learn it: time. Wanting to get back to a mode of learning that is nothing but sheer fun, I have been asking myself what the differences are between how I approach things now and how I approached things then. Maybe these differences seem obvious to you, dear readers, but addressing it has really illuminated much in my own mind.

Childhood learning is pure play. It's characterized by a complete absorption in the moment and the task at hand with full value placed solely on doing for the sake of what is being done, as opposed to for the sake of achieving a long term goal or satisfying a requirement. There is no sense of (here are some extreme examples) "if I can't play this excerpt perfectly, I'll never get a job" or "it's so embarrassing that I've been in music school for four years and can't read this rhythm correctly the first time" or "i've got to read this book by tomorrow for philosophy class, i need to know the terms right now, i'll think about them later" or "i don't have time to practice (spends half hour of practicing thinking about the looming philosophy paper)."

Basically, in all the memories I have of myself learning as a child, I had no inner talking. No self-conscious criticism. The learning is done purely for the self, not for a teacher, a grade, acceptance into a conservatory, or to get a job. I'm not saying we are always thinking this way or only thinking this way. Actually, I'm not saying anything about "we" at all. Just talking from my own experience. I certainly do things I love for myself, but they are always colored by the ten million other things I am conscious of having to get done or the reasons why I have to be doing this specific thing now and what I'm doing it for. Even sometimes when I read for fun it seems that I'm doing it more because of the idea that I like reading more than I am actually enjoying the reading at hand in the moment.

As a child, I played, and accidentally learned while doing so. I remember reading, making a big chart of the multiplication tables and finding patterns, playing drawing games with my mom, writing stories, all without any regard for it "being good for me" or "making me smarter" or "making my future better." When I learned to read, it was practically an accident. Zero awareness of needing to learn how to read in order to be accepted as intelligent in the culture I was born in, or needing to learn how to read so that some day I could get into college. It was just something fun that I was doing. And with that kind of approach, I learned to read, which is now, I feel it is safe to say, my strongest skill out of every learned skill I have.

I don't know exactly how to communicate what I'm trying to say. I don't mean for it to seem like I'm always doing tasks as a mercenary for something or someone else. But in comparison to what it was like to be a child, I am. I feel like most people probably do in some capacity.

So my new goal is to approach everything as a child. To think of it as play. Ideally, before I start something is the only time when I will be planning ahead, thinking how much time I am allowing myself to play at whatever it is I'm doing (rhythm exercises, Bach, oboe, reeds, whatever). But after that, total engagement with the task at hand. No worries if I spend the entire half hour on one exercise or one excerpt. If I'm having fun...I don't care. Because if I'm having fun, the learning will be quality. Because I have sufficient wisdom to practice effectively. It's the times when I don't want to be in the practice room that I waste time notching up the metronome and practicing scales mindlessly. If I'm having fun, it takes a quarter of the time to get my scales fast and clean like I want them. I know this from experience. I'll have gotten WAY more out of having fun playing one excerpt for a half hour than from unhappily and trudgingly spending three hours running through the hour and a half of solo rep I'm working on.

So the basic train of thought is as follows: I have fun when I'm practicing effectively. So if I think about practicing (and everything else!) as all fun and games, I'll learn more effectively from my practicing. I don't mean that one necessarily follows the other. Effectiveness and fun are co-constitutive aspects of genuine adult learning.

Okay, I'm babbling on and on and on and NOBODY is reading anymore, I'm sure. Except my parents probably. Hi mom. Anyway, none of this probably made any sense, and I'm sure I left out some key explanations or points, but writing it has certainly helped me understand what I've been thinking about recently. Aaaaand I had fun writing this entry, so THERE. I win.

IBIL Update

I survived the concert last night! Hooray! I'm establishing a good pre-performance routine that includes Alexander and meditation.

I ended up basically making the reed I played on right before I went on stage - not making it entirely, but finishing it, at least. I feel independent! How did I suddenly develop the ability to make good reeds? I am still astounded how it suddenly clicked in May. Like, the mathematician works for days, but then the solution comes as a bolt from the blue when he's sitting at the bus stop thinking about something else entirely...finally, three long years of dedicated, frustrated reed making are paying off. Of course I'll have my future slumps and new frustrations, but I'm suddenly at an unprecedented level of comfort and ease, and it's a little bizarre. But I'm cerrrtainly not complaining.

I guess I finally have a little time to update about many of the adventures in Baroque of the last week. Tonight is the faculty concert, and there was a chamber concert at lunch today as well, but other than that, nothing in the afternoon. I'm fairly exhausted.

I've gone through a LOT of rep this week. 2-4 brand new movements per day, ornaments and everything, to be played in masterclass the next morning. On top of actually getting to know the instrument, making a type of reed I've never made before, and warming up every day. And learning the chamber and orchestra music, and reading duets and things for fun. Solfege has been really invaluable, and in my initial practice sessions with new pieces, I spent a lot of time at the harpsichord singing (not that the harpsichords have actually been in tune by the time I get to them, but at least I get a starting pitch and can check the general vicinity of intervalic relationships (that last phrase was absolute nonsense, but I'm going to leave it in here anyway because I kinda like it)).

I've also bought a lot of drinks at Starbucks. It's across the street from the dorm I'm staying in, on the way to the music building...

Other fun activities - orchestra, oboe band. Two chamber music groups. It's been incredibly busy, but I think it has felt that way mostly since until today, I spent nearly every free moment (before 9am, lunch and after orchestra at 5) practicing. Although we have had coffee and pastry breaks every day at 10:30 between master classes and chamber, which has been really excellent. Except for the lack of caffeinated tea. This herbal stuff just doesn't cut it.

Oh, and we had Wednesday afternoon off. There was a fabulous bowling outing involved.

I've had such trouble sleeping the past few nights because I've been so excited about early music. And music in general. And grad school. I have so many grand plans for next year, including an early music extravaganza recital in the spring. I have a ton of verrry exciting ideas. The most difficult bit I think is going to be getting some key people on board. Probably obvious who I am talking about, specifically........

Anyway. I think a nap might be in order.

Yesterday's Post (I didn't have internet)

Well, no internet yet tonight, so I won’t be posting this until tomorrow at least.

So I have arrived in Boston! Specifically, Cambridge. I’m here for the International Baroque Institute at Longy (aka IBIL) for the next week.

After orientation, we met in sections. Gonzalo handed me a French sonata and said, “Here, you can play this in masterclass tomorrow.” This was at 9pm. And there are only three of us, so the slots of time are pretty big – meaning, more than one movement. Meaning, he and I are expecting me to have the entire thing learned by 9am tomorrow.

So! Perfect study in Learning Music Quickly, a point of extreme interest for this blog. So I can’t resist writing about what I’ve done so far tonight, even though I really need to get to bed (if I wake up at 6, I can be practicing by 7:30…).

I practiced a lot yesterday, so it was actually a very good thing that pre-orientation I had only practiced about an hour, because by the end of the second hour, my chops were a little eeeh and I was biting a little (eeeeeh). Probably more than a little. (That’s bad, if you don’t play oboe and don’t know what I’m talking about.) So that second hour started at 9:15ish, when the oboe meeting was over and I was left standing in the room with this sonata by Andre Cheron. Immediate fight or flight response (choosing fight of course) was to dive irresponsibly straight into trying to play the music at tempo with all the ornaments. Dumb of course. But I was saved actually, by the harpsichord maintenance team, or whoever they were, who came in after about five minutes to put together a harpsichord in that room, and I moved rooms. It was enough time to clear my head and say to myself, “Here’s an opportunity to learn something quickly the correct way, so take it.” Luckily, there was a fully functional (but radically out of tune, alas) harpsichord in this new room (much easier than playing a half step lower than you are singing solfege on the piano).

So I sang through movement by movement, and in logical chunks, I’d go through the rhythm, sing it (using the piano to check intervals I wasn’t totally sure of, but surprise, I wasn’t ever off, I don’t think), and then attempt to play it. I made it through the entire piece like this, leaving off the ornaments, and on the fast movements often playing something slowly once and then speeding it up. Then I started to go back to the beginning and work on first shaping the phrase the way I wanted it (still starting with singing the solfege until it sounded the way I wanted, then playing it), and then adding in some ornaments. But I didn’t even make it past the first half of the first page when the security guard came in and told me the practice rooms were closing.

It was 10pm. What? What kind of practice rooms close at 10pm??? I take Blair for granted, I guess.

So I came back to the dorm (about a ten minute walk, I was impressed that I can already navigate around here, haven’t gotten lost yet. Well, the first time I set foot in the town doesn’t count, but I’m just saying that every time I’ve had a general idea of where I wanted to go after that, I haven’t been lost). I went through each movement all the way through, two times each for just singing rhythm without the ornaments (including the inegalite, which I sure hope I am using appropriately, probably not). After that, I spoke solfege in rhythm, without ornaments. The solfege is really important for getting the groupings and the phrasings just right – things suddenly make sense, which they don’t do if I just start playing on the instrument and barrel through, trying to get the right notes. So then I spoke through with ornaments, which is a bit more of a challenge. That’s the hard part. It is particularly challenging because it is a matter of both getting the rhetoric correct and getting the fingers to be extremely graceful and not blurble or slam down or wind a note at the end of a gesture because it is a cross fingering, and it might not come out…or something.

So hopefully this will all pay off tomorrow, and I won’t be so dead tired that I can’t function. I woke up at 4:45 this morning to head to the airport. Had some rough sleep on the plane (but long sleep, almost the entire three hour flight, surprising for me) and then napped when I got here for about two hours. We shall see. Luckily, there’s a Starbucks across the street.

Oh yes, the other thing I have been meaning to write about. So yesterday I was watching America’s Next Top Model. You laugh, but this is very relevant! (I was also practicing Baroque oboe at the same time, which might not have been entirely healthy, but we can discuss that later…). So (cycle 16, if you’re interested) one of the first challenges for the girls was with a prominent acting coach. The challenge was basically, to face the “inner critic.” When I heard this, I had to laugh because this is such a familiar concept to us musicians (at least us musicians at Blair and us musicians who have read Inner Game of Tennis and probably everyone else). In The Inner Game of Tennis, the author talks about Self 1 and Self 2, Self 1 being the voice that rambles on and on, trying to control everything and getting in the way of the performance (tennis, music, anything really). Professor Ploger’s name for it is the “coach,” that is, pretty much the same thing – the berating voice that is the biggest obstacle for any performer.

In the past year, while I was practicing at school, I had been focusing on building a better relationship with my coach. We were really on bad terms, and I hadn’t even been noticing how mean my inner coach was being to me, how much it was affecting not only my playing, but my overall happiness. I spent a lot of time, particularly first semester, both paying attention in order to notice my coach’s negativity, and literally having conversations (mostly in my head, sometimes out loud, don’t institutionalize me haha) with my coach. I was forgiving, made offerings of friendship, was gentle. In years before, when trying to deal with the negative voice, the (inappropriate) response I gave was always equally negative; I knew thinking these things were not doing me any good, but I didn’t know how to fix it – “Don’t be stupid, why are you thinking like that? If you think like that, you’re never going to be any good. Now play it right this time and stop beating yourself up.” Ironically of course, just another form of beating myself up.

But the gentler, patient approach worked really, really well. I’d say my coach and I have an excellent relationship now. Except sometimes the coach is lazy. Well, okay, a lot of times the coach is lazy. So that’s my challenge now, and particularly for the next year – I’ve gotten the coach to stop hurting me, but the coach doesn’t always put out the effort to help me in the way I know it can. And that’s largely on me. I think more Alexander and possibly (hopefully) yoga are in order here.

I do want to finish describing the ANTM challenge though! Because I think I will do it sometime possibly, it sounds like a good idea. So the acting coach had an easel with poster paper and markers set up behind each girl, and after he described the concept of the inner critic and they all understood it, he told them to turn around – 15 minutes to draw their inner critic. Then each went up on stage to face their inner critic in front of the other girls (the acting coach held up the poster and played the part of the critic while the girls had to confront the inner coach and tell it what’s what). Good idea I thought.

Which reminds me of something else I should mention, since the girls definitely weren’t gentle with their inner coach. There does have to be a definite degree of dominance – gentle, yes, but firm first. Resolute. Stare it down. Let it know you are in charge, and you won’t be putting up with its nonsense anymore.

Recommended Reading: The Inner Game of Tennis

Recommended Viewing: ANTM

Georgia On My Mind

Hi guys! I finished BPI (Baroque Performance Institute) last Sunday, so I haven't been updating. I had originally intended to just blog for those two weeks, but I think I will keep it up. I've actually heard from some people that they were reading this blog for real, which is really cool! I had no idea anyone would actually check it out, much less follow it! How exciting!

I'll definitely have a lot of interesting things to write about - right now I am at an oboe camp in Georgia for a week, and in a couple of weeks, I'll be attending the International Baroque Institute at Longy. This Baroque thing is kind of addictive. Next year I'll definitely be keeping up with the Baroque oboe, so I'll keep everybody updated on that. And I'll have grad school lessons and auditions, so it might be kind of cool for those a year or more younger than me to see what that process is like. I'm also hoping to put on a big Baroque historical performance recital at Blair next year, so I'll write about what those struggles as well.

So let me go back a little and wrap up BPI! The final concert went really well - I performed in a trio sonata, a piece (supposedly) by Handel. And we opened the concert with our dance class performing the minuet that we had learned. Kanad (my lovely dance partner) and I rocked that minuet. My second lesson also went very well - Gonzalo is really a fantastic teacher.

After that final (again four hour) concert, there was a small get together in this crazy house with crazy cats. Pictures on facebook eventually. Crazy gamba collection.

I've been at Oxford Oboes since Sunday. It's an oboe camp for middle and high schoolers, and each day there are masterclasses, reed class, and chamber music. During the masterclasses, some students split off into smaller assigned groups for different classes (like English horn class) or have individual lessons. I've had so much fun here so far. Most mornings I've been in the masterclasses. When younger kids are playing in the masterclasses, I I only hear a little that I haven't heard before about oboe playing, but it has been such a great educational experience in pedagogy. I find myself really paying attention to how the professors approach different aspects in the music, what kinds of explanations work best for different ages, that sort of thing. Really important stuff for when I'm teaching later. When I was playing in the masterclass, the professors often brought up something I did well and explained/demonstrated it for the kids, a really good tactic, I think.

Love that the professors play the accompaniment (on oboe, often a bass line) along with the kids playing the solos. I can really hear in their sounds a huge increase in confidence, and they take more risks. In my lesson with Dr. O, we ended by playing through an entire Barrett sonata movement together, and I found myself gaining a lot of confidence and taking more risks as well. And just having so much fun! Wish I had recorded that.

Today I coached a sextet of beginning middle school oboists.

Yeah, you try that sometime. You can't even imagine.

But what an interesting experience, trying to figure out what they can relate to, trying to figure out what ideas are most important for them to be exposed to, not wanting to talk way above or below their level, but slightly above it, or at least at the ceiling, to challenge them but to keep them interested...teaching is hard. I've also been working with the students often at reed class, and it's really crazy having to dissect something you've been doing so long that it's permanent muscle memory in order to explain it to an ADHD middle schooler. ie tying reeds. And I didn't really realize how far I have come in reed making until seeing the beginners and intermediates. Reed making is one of those things that is so frustrating because it feels like I'm never making any progress (oboe playing too, for that matter). But to see how awkward it is for the beginners to hold a reed in one hand and a knife in the other reminds me of how natural it is for me to hold a knife or scrape a reed.

What a weird thing to be good at. Life is weird.

Oh yeah, and the other thing. Chamber music. Thirteen oboes in my chamber group, and I am the appointed leader. Why does this keep happening to me? Haha. Not complaining though, I guess somebody has to do it. I was so worried that we weren't even going to be able to stay together for the first rehearsals, but somehow miraculously around Wednesday, things started to really shape up. These rehearsals have been so much work. A very different kind of work than I am used to in rehearsals. First off, keeping everyone focused. Come on guys, every time we stop playing is not an opportunity for you to practice your part on your own or tell your neighbor a story...and I don't wanna be the bad guy or the band director. It's a very difficult balance to find!

But everyone has simmered down a lot since the first day, and there's a lot less chatter and a lot more focus. It's weird to go from group discussion of purely musical elements and subtleties like in college to directing people on how to play rhythms and things like that. There were a lot of transitions and things that we had to work through together, and a lot of spot work that took up a lot of time. The first two rehearsals, we had a professor come in for part of it, which was really helpful. I was particularly thankful not to have to be the bad guy for the entire rehearsal and to have someone with authority backing up what I was saying. I mean, I technically have authority officially, but it is an odd thing to only be a few years older than the oldest of the group. Particularly since I how I look could still pass for 17 or 18 if one didn't know I was actually old.

Gosh I feel really old here. There's an incoming college freshman here who was born in 1994. What's up with that? Sooo old.

But anyway, I suppose I'm doing an all right job organizing and waving my arms around a lot. The piece is coming together nicely, and we are even playing dynamics now! And sometimes we look at each other! Little steps.

So that seems like enough for now. Kind of a long post, but I haven't updated in a while. But I will continue to update from now on, expect a new blog every 1-3 days! Good to hear a few of you out there are reading it! :)

Response (And Not My Reeds)

I am of the opinion that at a certain high level of oboe playing, everyone really is saying the same thing. After a certain point, there is not a lot of new information that I am going to get about say, breathing, from a single masterclass, or even a week. Of course, I will learn so much about breathing, because every teacher has their own way of explaining things, and each has particular brilliant insights into how to approach the issue mentally, how to visualize, or how to "get into" your own body in such a way that minimalizes tension. But the basic bits - how exactly the ribcage and the lungs work together, how there needs to not be tension in the upper body/shoulders, how the breath should be deep or full or some other modifier - those are the same. Sure, maybe ED says she feels tension in one part of her stomach and JH says it's totally relaxed - you gotta figure out what is right for your body. There are two types of knowing, which we unfortunately have only one word for in the English language.

type A: I know that this bowl is on my desk.

type B: I know Beethoven 7 very well.

I am saying that under the surface, the type A information about playing the oboe, about making reeds, is baaaasically the same. That is not a blanket statement, and I allow for sure for exceptions (ie the European style of oboe playing, completely different beast). But, to really internalize type B knowledge is no easy task. It's super easy to internalize the type A knowledge: "The sides of the tip of the reed should be thinner than the middle of the tip." Sure, I only have to hear that once to know it (type A). And every teacher after the first one is going to say, "Taper to the sides" "Taper off the plaque" "Thin the tip and clip" "Scrape the sides and corners of the tip". So in this case, I am not hearing anything new. This is true. I am not acquiring new information. But I am being reminded. I am hearing the information in new ways, which will make new connections in my brain. The information is being reinforced. I am taking the advice of the second teacher, and his wording along with my first teacher's wording, and having a new physical experience of scraping a tip, with a new mental composite of advice. The type A information, through various points of view and physical experiences, begins to internalize into something natural - something you KNOW, type B know.

So I do maintain, that I probably have acquired 80, 85% of Type A knowledge about the physicality of American style oboe playing and American style reeds. It is rare to get new information. I don't think this is presumptuous. I think everyone in my place, who has gone to the same amount of masterclasses, summer festivals, and taken lessons with the same variety of teachers, could easily claim the same, whether or not they realize it. I would say my dear friend Megan, a performance major a year younger than me at my university, has the same amount of type A knowledge about playing the oboe. "At this point in my education" means - a college level oboist.

Type B? I am so so so so far away from the oboists I admire, teachers and performers.

The good news is, all you have to do is practice. To turn A knowledge into B knowledge. How do you make the transformation? Consciousness. Paying attention. The A knowledge is there, and self 2 KNOWS what to do (going Inner Game of Tennis on you here haha). Self 2 KNOWS. I promise. As long as you paid attention when the teacher said what he or she said, that info is stored away nicely in your brain. The human brain is an amazing thing! The hardest part of playing the oboe, "at this point in my education" (haha I guess that does sound a little elitist, but come on, I know elitist, I hang out with conductors, and I ain't elitist) is trusting myself. I am NOT saying that is the only hard part about playing the oboe. Of COURSE not. The oboe is really difficult! But the hardest part is being aware enough and having enough trust in your own brain.

Again, super easy to say. Easy to have the type A instruction "Trust yourself." Hard to do. Hard to make that into type B knowledge.

Here are some comments Austin made in a convo about this topic with me! Very insightful, and some good examples from the mysterious field of string playing that I know (type A or B haha) verrrry little about.

• there are only so many ways to say "play with a straight bow"
• but I think it's totally valid to say you learned something new when you figure out how to make a more beautiful sound
• by tweaking said bow arm
  • now of course there are rules that apply to everyone
  • you will never (unless you want a certain sound which most people would qualify as inferior) get a better sound by playing with a crooked bow
  • but the translation of knowledge that can't really be put into words... is troublesome

And of course of course there aren't even "rules" for playing an instrument. Of course of course people are always trying to find better ways of doing things, which means they have to break "rules" - I mean, American oboe reed style didn't come from nowhere! But in this narrow context of conservatory playing, orchestral training, or what have you, there is a certain "right" way of doing things that you have to at least start by complying with to a certain extent if you want to survive in the oboe world - and this is the information that we often get in masterclasses, etc. Same thing applies to society too. Some rules you must follow if you want to be accepted by the crowd. Maybe you value breaking those rules more than you value acceptance by the crowd - in some cases, a very, very good thing for humanity. But if this is true, you can't complain about not being accepted by the crowd. So it goes.

There are only 12 pitches and 11 dichords.

Crash

It's been two days and already equal temperament makes me uncomfortable.

So, I completely crashed today. Napped three and a half hours. Straight through dance class (well, my alarm went off in time, but there was no way I was getting up at that point). But I really needed it. I haven't gotten a full night's sleep in three weeks now. This morning was a real struggle, especially during the Music of Bach lecture, at which point I almost fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. Had been a little irritable all morning and not really accomplishing what I wanted to be accomplishing with Baroque oboe in class.

I keep wanting to complain to myself that it's impossible to play stylistically correct while I'm still worried about the mechanics of the instrument. But I know that's an excuse, and that kind of thinking is NOT going to help me. When so many notes inegales start coming all at once though, my brain turns on panic mode, I get all tense, and nothing works mechanically. Wait, that isn't true. It's not true that nothing works mechanically. I just don't sound as beautiful as I would sound were I relaxed, open, and resonant. Hopefully, I will get to bed early tonight, and start mornings off with some Alexander from now on.

One of the major challenges for me with technical passages - in Baroque oboe playing, you don't blow equal air into all the notes. On modern oboe, a good, fast, steady stream of air will get me nicely through any crazy passage. But on Baroque, that strategy breaks down. In fact, it seems easier to get all the notes out if the beginning of a difficult phrase of inegalite is really lengthened and blown through, but the subsequent notes are played on hardly any air, relatively speaking. It also sounds better, not forced or driven. It's difficult to get into this mindset, but I just have to keep gently reminding myself.

Overall, I think I have been doing a pretty good job of being non-judgmental about my playing in practice and class. Class is much more of a challenge to achieve this state of mind for me because there is an external judge (my teacher) who does place value judgments on my triumphs and failures. The importance to me of his approval sometimes gets in the way of actually doing something the way he wants it to be done. I will focus more on being wholly observational in class of my own playing the way I am in the practice room. The real danger in the practice room is unconsciousness. There's so much to think about in playing this music on this instrument that instead of keeping an awareness of everything, I focus too narrowly on one skill to the neglect of other, basic skills. Or I just space out. Spacing out = not good. But I suspect that largely has to do with my lack of sleep, since it is not normally a problem for me.

Firsts

All right, so first day and a half. I'm already so behind on this blog because I've already assimilated so much new information! Unbelievable!

So, travel day yesterday was pretty overwhelming. Last night of Hot Springs, stayed up with my friend Natalie until 4 am, which yielded 2 hours of sleep that night. Slept an hour and a half on the plane, but that was it. Got into Oberlin at 5:15, orientation at 6, and "audition" at 7:20. So no time to play oboe that day, and I was a little concerned that I would have to play a Baroque piece on modern oboe for the teacher (haven't recently worked on anything I would want to play for a professional Baroque performer ie I'm not about to play unaccompanied Bach for an expert).

But of course I didn't have to play anything, and the professor is super friendly. He wrote me out a fingering chart and sent me on my way. He was a little shocked at first, I think, that I had never even played more than a few notes on Baroque oboe. Possibly slightly concerned. But I think that after he considered it a little and noted my genuine enthusiasm, he started to get a little excited that I was a clean slate. No reed at this point yet.

So. Pushing the Nerf ball up the hill. Sat in my bed for a long time with the Baroque oboe and the fingering chart. Visualized the keyboard. Solfege syllables on keyboard. Arranged my fingers correctly. Thought about the staff too, but not as much since that's clef dependent. Was as intentional as possible! And I looked at the chart as little as possible, focusing on the fingerings that are different from modern oboe. I went through the entire range chromatically several times, saying each solfege syllable out loud as I fingered the note and visualized it on the keyboard. I made a point to consider all the enharmonic spellings as well, and did some fake reading of Modus Novus, just to get some practice reading crazy intervals I'll probably never see playing Baroque oboe. But hey, if I can quickly process that, I can read anything. And then as I was falling asleep, I went through all the notes in my mind again. First thing in the morning, I reviewed. After viol class, reviewed again, this time with oboe in hand. By the time oboe reed class rolled around, I could easily play anything he asked me to do (scales, thirds, etc). So that Nerf ball is up! And since I will be playing every day from now on, it will stay up easily. (Until I start having to learn alternate fingerings).

8am every morning - viol class. I have a bass!!! Even just carrying it around last night after it was issued to me was a little overwhelming. Such a huge instrument! You have to be careful turning around in the hallway with it! And there's a BOW. I've only really even held a string instrument twice that I can think of offhand. And gamba of all things. Class was hilarious though, and we made some really awful noises. The class situation was odd for me - the lack of personal attention resulted in a lot more doubt than I am used to. But I got over that quickly, and took more risks to see what sorts of things worked and what sorts of things didn't (I'm thinking specifically of the bow grip). I need to do that more in my modern oboe practicing. I think that because Jared is such a good teacher, I am a little too dependent on him to point out areas I could improve. How often do I take risks with how I think about embouchure or air in order to experiment with different tones? Not very often. Occasionally, but nothing has ever really come of it.

I was forced to do that today with the Baroque oboe. In reed class, he gave me a reed, a little bit of guidance on embouchure, and instruction on how to overblow notes, but that was really it. We spent the majority of the time discussing reeds. He gave us some exercises to work on (ocatves, scales in thirds). So in my hour and a half or so of practicing today, I really had to figure out for myself how to make the instrument sound the way I wanted it to sound (not that I've accomplished that yet). I had to hear what I wanted in my head first before I played. Same for intonation. Button pushing is literally impossible on Baroque oboe, and it really reveals how much button pushing actually does go on, even when I am conscious of notes and intervals. Without really hearing it first, nothing works. I even tried an exercise in thirds where I alternated between singing and playing notes. And surprise! The intonation was nearly perfect! Some of the more difficult notes were a little warbly, but considering that without listening first, they were almost a half step off, I think it was a major improvement...

So one interesting challenge is going to not only be intonation regarding the instrument, but how I listen for intonation. The pure intervals apparently are going to take precedence over scale degree function: that's why my teacher recommended scales in thirds instead of scales. Practicing this let me know I really do know how intonation should sound! Because I could sing what I wanted very easily. Need to trust myself!

Dang cross fingerings are a beast to tune.

Well, I feel like I'm skipping a lot, but like I said, a lot happened. A bit on the Bach chorales. The institute is performing St. Matthew Passion, and they are going to have us in the audience sing the chorales (kind of like a flash mob, but you know, with Bach chorales. Kind of). Like this...

Handel Flash Oratorio

Um, anyway, so we rehearsed two chorales last night, and it was one of the most beautiful musical experiences I have ever had. I've never actually sung a chorale in German - only in solfege syllables or scale degrees or what have you. But to actually immediately comprehend the word painting in real time was such a different experience than merely pointing it out after or even before the fact. The physical feeling of singing a tritone on "Missetaten" and understanding what it means immediately was incomparable. It was so great that the musical director had us sing every part before putting all our parts together; even with all my struggle with the German language, I got a nice picture of the part writing. It was a lot to wrap my head around though, considering I don't even reeeally know how to pronounce German. I guess I have a decent idea, but you try tracking on the keyboard while struggling to read a language you've never spoken aloud before...so of course, as soon as it was over, I was eager as a beaver to go contemplate some intervals and notate some heptachord shift. Played two parts at a time today a little. Goal is to be able to play all these chorales on the piano before we actually perform them! I want to really understand what is going on as I sing them.

Well I suppose that's really enough for now. Gonna go practice, sing some more Bach chorales. Maybe some gamba practice? <.<

Baroque Adventures

I arrived yesterday at Oberlin, where I will be for the next two weeks for the Baroque Performance Institute. Besides Carl Smith's "Historical Traditions in Performance Practice and Composition," which was a fantastic class I took last fall (playing in class on modern oboe), I have absolutely no experience in Historically Informed Performance. Oh, and that paper I wrote for Lowe, but I got an A- on that. I'm still a little bitter. :P

It sure feels right now as if I am the only person here with NO experience. Of course, I think a lot of people only have minimal background, but still - let's just say the total notes I had ever played on a Baroque oboe before today was approximately 3. And there's a huge group of people here who have been doing it for decades and are totally involved. So the bad news is, I know nothing. But the good news is, I know nothing!

That starting from scratch feeling is so different. After a certain age, we don't start from scratch anymore; sure, I'll learn a new sonata or a nifty beveling knife technique for reed making, but I don't learn through the child's perspective anymore. Not like learning how to talk or learning how to walk. And of course, I'm not starting from scratch with Baroque oboe, either. About half the fingerings are the same as the modern oboe, I know how to read music, I know how to make modern oboe reeds. But Baroque oboe is an entirely different animal than modern oboe. Additionally, I'll be taking beginning viol and Baroque dance classes. Particularly with the viol, these are things that are way far out of my comfort zone. And I love it!

I'm very interested in how exactly people - and me, in particular - handle such a 180 degree turn, especially in a situation such as this where I will be totally immersed in a new skill set. I don't plan on playing my modern oboe at all for two weeks. It's mind boggling. So I decided to keep a blog where I will make observations about how I learn, what obstacles I face, and how I overcome them. I hope to understand better how adults might regain that magical easy feeling of creativity and learning that comes with childhood. I think of this as a situation where I can clearly observe the learning phenomenon, easier to be cognizant of in this immersion than in the more general and subtle learning of the every day, and even college. But I'd like to apply my discoveries to my every day learning, and to my teaching, when that happens some day. I also hope to explore how my training in the Ploger method works with learning new skills on my own - there will be a lot of that spattered throughout, but I won't get too technical.

So, I plan on updating at least once a day. The posts will include an outline of my activities for the day, and an introspective analysis of my mental states and learning processes. I'll try to keep it interesting, just in case anyone else wants to read (my mom probably will, at least).