Marvin Stamm

Great musicianship works anywhere, in the recording studio, in the orchestra, in jazz settings, chamber music, wherever. Any seasoned mature talent is obvious, refreshing, and knows no boundaries. It comes from within and manifests itself no matter what the venue. Marvin Stamm visited CCM this weekend, generously sharing the depth of his experience, teaching, and playing wonderfully as he has done for so many years. It was our treat and privilege.

I am always amazed at the language of jazz, the never-the-same spontaneity of it, and the specialized instincts required for this level of music-making. I feel like I am listening to another language, one which I love to hear, but cannot speak. Yet I can understand it when it is done well, and Marvin is a master of fluency and eloquence.

He is classically trained, well experienced, knowledgeable, and a deep source of information. Young players he said should absorb from the experience of older players. Learning only from peers has limitations. He spoke with reverence and respect about the great players who had influenced him from all styles of music. So much he learned from hanging with the older greats in their day. We do well to select our company wisely.

I loved hearing him hear. Several students played for him, and played well. He responded to each one directly, respectfully, and told them exactly the areas of need. Expression rules over perfection, was a standout theme to me. More important than every jot and tittle is the beauty of the phrase. Detail is trumped by musicianship. Yet the details were scrutinized so that their overall effect would enhance the music.

Referring to the splendid playing of Phil Smith, he noted that he is never cautious. Take the chance, go for the impact, jump in, and never play tentatively. Belt it out, play a real forte, he said at one point.

In the all too brief session I attended, I went away impressed by the depth of a great musician. Just to sit and listen to him talk of his music world was heaven. He loves it. It shows. The man is the music.

Relaxed Power

Rarely does the second trumpet player get enough well-deserved limelight! It is sad to say but true. Part of that job, as demonstrated today by Steve Pride in his two-hour masterclass at CCM, is to make those around him successful by using God-given intuition and a highly developed skill of sensitive musicianship. Mr. Pride showed why he has earned the right to hold that chair with the CSO for 27 years.

Loads of tips and ideas were shared that sent us away with a clearer understanding of those basic skills necessary for survival. A stand-out for me was his quote about "relaxed power", not tense forcing, or high decibels just for volume sake. Think about it. Relaxing seems to be the opposite of power, but not so. Every facet of playing improves with relaxation as the starting point. Intonation can settle better, tone improves and blending is a whole lot easier. A relaxed broad sound creates the carpet for others to confidently build upon.

Another was the theme of the afternoon: free flowing air, not static air, but air with direction. How often he would demonstrate the clear precise tongue stroke without the mouthpiece, over and over again. "Teu, teu, teu, teu, teu", etc. We were starting to get the picture: secure and easy tongue strokes with great repetition! Fluid air shooting over the top of the tongue. I also like his practice of a lot of very soft buzzing while driving. (But watch out for those police cams aiming at you from down the through way! Hopefully a mouthpiece in one hand will not go the way of the cell phone!)

"As loud as one has to play, that is how soft one has to play". Loud is easy, he said. The hard part is the soft control with relaxed delivery. I sensed we were already rehearsing this mentally. His mission was being nicely accomplished.

The attack must be thudless! We trumpeters don't want to be live bait for angry conductors to feast on. Our softs must be beautiful and clean without explosive fronts. Exhibit: Bartok Concerto's opening, Academic's chorale, Schumann's 2nd, Fetes, etc. Secure, muscial softs are the trademarks of great musicians, and it pays pretty well too!

Another excellent suggestion: not only make good notes, but take good notes! After all lessons and concerts performed he records key information that must not be forgotten.

Concerning the embouchure, he formed his, and then pointed to the exact point of the tip of the tongue precisely striking the teeth. "The note has to be right there" he said. It begins exactly at the tongue's edge and quickly flies past the trumpet. That little picture is worth chapters in any text book!

We got a good look at the role of a good second player today. He can make or break a first player, intentionally or not. All of those little things of intonation, blend, sensitivity, supporting sound, following the musical direction set by those around him, all serve to make the second job unique and extremely valuable. I am very fortunate to have had such a colleague as Steve for so many years.

"What do you think about while playing?" was a good question. To paraphrase, in private practice it is all about executing proper mechanics with high percentage accuracy. In rehearsals and concerts, the goal is creating the sound and message you already have firmly in mind. Spring training is over. Let the games begin! Have fun and go for the sound concepts you have in your gut and in your heart. That's why we're on the stage. We practice the basics, play the music, and the people will pay.

Thanks, Steve, for your generous sharing and great playing! We wish you many more years of success in all you do.

The Power of a Spoken Word

Word came the other day of a very fine trumpet player currently making a name for himself in a prestigious orchestra. He is a top player, well-respected, and a rising star. Not long ago while on tour, things started to go seriously south for him. Consistency and confidence apparently never having been a problem, were suddenly spiraling out of control. The bad dream of not being able to do it was becoming his real nightmare. He had known success, and he had owned the stage. Yet he was fast approaching a brick wall and finding himself powerless to turn himself around. What was going on and why?

A lengthy period of recovery and rediscovery fortunately proved most beneficial for him. With some help, the problem was eventually pinpointed, and he is now back to his great playing in the orchestra again. In spite of all the praise and encouragement he had undoubtedly received from so many all through his past, there remained that one voice in his memory that had grown into a shout of doubt. The source of his problems was the discouraging word from his father. His repeated negative comment eventually began to topple his confidence.

At some point, as he was getting started in his career, his father had voiced a strong vote of no confidence in his son's chances of succeeding as an orchestral trumpet player. Probably trying to be protective and wanting his son to consider the odds he would face, the dad failed to grasp the power of his influence for better or for worse.

Why is it that even one discouraging comment can so easily obliterate all the confidence in the world? So much of life is a mind game! We will play the way we think. Maybe that is one of the many reasons that the Bible warns to guard our heart with all diligence, for out of it proceed all the issues of life. It has been said that we can only draw from the reserve that we have stored. What we take in will determine what we have to give out.

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, it says in Proverbs. It is awesome to consider the power and potential of our own influence upon others. Our words can be life-giving, or they can be like daggers. One's future success can be encouraged or greatly discouraged simply by a spoken word.

Making it Official

Thomas Schippers was conducting the first rehearsal of the CSO's new season. A full orchestra transcription of Clementi's 4th symphony was to begin the rehearsal, not exactly an old familiar warhorse, but a challenge none the less. It was September 15, 1975, and I was there! It was officially day #1 for me as principal trumpet. Adrenaline was flowing even though it was only Clementi, and those first concerts went well.

That first weekend of concerts came and went, like they always do. As a 28 year old it was especially exciting. Schippers could manage to make any score that way. You knew great music was going to be made, but it was often hard to get your arms around it. Reading precision in his moves was a challenge. He was all about creating a beautiful forest. Nuancing the details of the trees was our responsibility. Frustrating as that could be, he was usually forgiven because we knew that the end product was going to be successful. I am sure the extra pressure improved our skills. One occasionally was reminded of racing through a tunnel with no lights on! We always came out of it unscathed finding the audience applauding wildly. Amazing!

Today is my last official day with the CSO. Hundreds if not thousands of rehearsals and concerts have come and gone, maybe "millions and millions!" Therapy for some of the slugfest weeks was always "it will pass". What a job when you consider that symphony work is different every week and the menu is never the same. Better than "it will pass" is "what can we do in this music that will interest listeners?" Instead of just getting through it, enjoy the challenge of creating great moments of music.

My last official assignment is on that same stage. No longer "a new guy," "one of the guys", or one of the "old guys" in the orchestra, I join the rank of "retired guys". I must simply show up for a brief moment that too will pass. The notes have all been played and the concerts are history. They are all also memories that I can recall in an instant. Only those and the friendships remain along with much gratefulness for the privilege of contributing to great music-making for 31 years.

Leaving the baton

A large package arrived yesterday full of programs of concert schedules, special recitals attended, visiting artists, the complete Carnegie Hall series, etc. My mother had sent her musical updates from New Jersey sharing the many options for all interested in the arts in the New York area. A musician living in New Jersey is like a kid living next to the toy store! So much available!

Tucked away in all of her program treasures was a small envelop with two pictures of my great grandfather taken in the early fifties. I was about six at the time. He was retired from his job and was pictured laughing with his two very favorite daughters. I had heard bits and pieces about him and like any youngster was not able to grasp a big picture of anything, or would not. They had told me about him, and while I tried to be polite, it didn't have any impact, one of the many tragedies of youth!

This weekend I officially retire from my job. It is interesting that these pictures arrived after all of these years just on this day! How I wish I could have talked with him about so much that we have (had) in common. Separated by two generations we lived in the same world and on the same musical page, but never knew each other. His job? He had been first trombone with the John Philip Sousa band, and had also held principal jobs with several orchestras.

I leave the CSO with many stored memories of musical highs and experiences. But after the trumpet baton has been handed off to another, I would like to be pictured like my great grandfather, enjoying his family and able to share with the following generations some of that with which I have been richly blessed.

Pinpoint Control

Alison Balsom put on a clinic today at the rehearsal for this weekend's CSO concerts, a clinic of clear attacks, soft entrances and finesse. We talk often of the extremes, and tend to be drawn to the fireworks and jolts of pizazz. While she played with all the flair and energy needed for the Haydn Concerto, she also showed the amazing pinpoint control of entrances that marks great artists. You had to hear it!

Those fantastic starts to phrases grabbed our attention as we listened and watched. Arturo Sandoval among many others can dazzle with incredible high range and power, but Alison owns the pianissimo entrance. I enjoyed catching the response of my colleagues. One seemed to shake his head in disbelief. Another couldn't resist open smiles and nods of approval. "Her playing sparkles", said another. She made you want to get to the practice room and test new levels of low decibel playing! Now that's not politically correct in many macho brass circles, but it is an essential requirement for that huge pay check earned by concert soloists of her caliber.

There is always a reason that soloists have careers! Many skills will be on display. You will hear something worth your attending. How many can we note, absorb, and make our own? That is the question. These will be the techniques we can be proud of.

So Much Music, So Little Time!

There was a final comment made by guest artist Charlie Vernon the other day at CCM that almost got by us as the hour was up and some headed to classes. He might have started the session with the observation, but chose rather to let his brilliant playing speak for itself.

He had just finished playing for a large majority of the 60 minutes he was allotted. The hour was all about trombone at its best. Everything you could ask of a trombone was demonstrated, and more. All of the bars were hoisted higher, and we heard new limits for decibel extremes. As mentioned yesterday, his mechanics were in excellent repair along with beauty of sound.

Oh, the parting comment. He implored us to enjoy the vast repertoire of great music written for us even as brass players. That was it! Here was a piece so difficult that who knows if it will ever be played again by anyone else. The point taken was that in this piece he had found incredible beauty and opportunities for record-breaking playing. The vision of great playing trumped all obstacles. I say "even" brass players because we often fail to imagine the possibilities of music-making within our reach. It isn't reserved for opera singers and violinists. Arnold Jacobs, one of the best tuba players ever, made his instrument perform. Or rather he performed through his instrument. He was the instrument. He just happened to be playing a tuba. The music is in the musician and not limited by the instrument.

Brass music can be much more than tonic and dominant fanfares, occasional loud blats, and marches with cracked stingers at the end. I wonder if we go through our music life with an inferiority complex? Why do they always stick the brass in the back of the orchestra? Maybe we should think, practice and play like we were concert masters all sitting on the front lines!

I like his challenge first demonstrated and then encouraged, to explore the wealth of tremendous music at our disposal, and to enjoy playing like never before. Great brass players must be great musicians, and great musicians must love their work!

For the Love of Music!

Tornado season struck Cincinnati today! Bass trombonist Charlie Vernon of the Chicago Symphony picked up his alto, tenor, and bass trombone and just about blew everyone out of the room! For sure bass trombone players know very well how to put on their blasting helmets and do some serious damage. I say damage respectfully, as that is one of the necessary skills required of all brass players. He had it under complete control. In addition to shear power, we heard gorgeous quality of sound, awesome dynamic contrasts, nice intonation, and the prize of the day - beautiful music making! More impressive than his technical control is the obvious power source of his amazing accomplishments. It was "talent on loan from God", and he simply played as if to say, "I love this job!"

What a concerto he played! The terrain of the musical landscape is full of huge obstacles and monstrous range jumps with stop-on-a-dime demands. Close your eyes and you can imagine the largest ocean-liner clearing the harbor for entry. Next there followed soft choirboy soprano choral lines way up there. But I particularly enjoyed the energy and lighthearted humor that he showed in the rests. He seemed to be saying, "this piece is great fun to play!" His rhythm is machine-like but not at the expense of breath-taking expression. Far more than a music computer, we saw unabashed passion and relentless drive. No mountain is too high for this guy, and no valley too low! This unique composition might have been subtitled, "You will have to be able to do it all. Fasten your seat belt!"

The highlight of all the highlights, in my opinion, was his almost whispered comment on what was happening during some of the rests. "This is the most beautiful music I've ever heard!" He was setting the scene for us just like the announcer softly but excitedly describes the final winning putt in The Masters Golf Tournament. Most of us just count the rests, thinking only of our next entrance. No, Charlie gave the impression that he was on the most thrilling ride of his life. "All aboard. You're riding shotgun, guys. Everyone take a deep breath. We're flying right over Niagara Falls. Next movement, on your right, there's the Grand Canyon! You may now exhale. Now on to Yellowstone where we will observe the force of those geysers!"

Charlie Vernon finally landed us back in Cincinnati. Thanks to Mr. Vernon for a great trip!

The Place of Praise

Busy with classes, busy with rehearsals, assignments, papers, research projects, boards, recital deadlines, lesson agendas! The treadmill gets faster and bumpier. "Do this, now do that. No, do it this way, not like that! Bud does it like this, never like that!" Such is life in the university trumpet world. Comparisons and great expectations with the bar rising as we speak.

The pressure is tough, stressful, and necessary. But is something missing from the picture? I wonder if the injection of something else at just the right time and in just the right amount, might prove the spark that motivates students to super-excel. Wise use of this ingredient could easily shrink some of those hurdles and propel runners to run faster and jump higher.

Recently one of our students returned from an out of town "root canal" of a weekend. It was an audition, board, sit-in rehearsal, interview experience that was probably quite nerve-wracking. It was scrutiny under the high powered microscope required these days in order to land a job in a good university. You have to have it all: orchestral repertoire, soloistic flair, chamber music sensitivity, thorough knowledge of the music field, as well as favorable people skills to boot! A lot of hats to wear comfortably in order to get that first paycheck!

"Well, how did it go?", I asked after it was over. "Give me a full report!" The student modestly summarized the events still very fresh in mind. But what followed was the wonderful result of that ingredient that so easily gets neglected. This student was made to feel at home all during the audition experience and was appropriately complimented for specific points of excellence. Genuine and well-deserved praise was offered. As a result, this student played the best lesson I can remember! It seemed almost like a new person, a new player, a motivated player!

Nothing comes over night, and confidence needs to be built over time. Respect must be earned and worked hard for. Pressure is good, but there is time and a place for praise because it can often accomplish far more than even honest criticism. Flattery never works, however, and is a sad counterfeit. But how often is genuine, well-deserved praise, admiration and appreciation given for things done well? Isn't that what is expressed by the audience at the end of the concert?

No More Practicing!

One needed paper and pencil to capture all that Joe Burgstaller presented in his outstanding masterclass the other day at UC. Just one of the many memorable ideas and concepts shared was his admission: "I never practice." Immediately our brains were trying to compute that one. Then he followed by saying that he "only performs." What a great way of looking at our day! Even "practice" time can be reinvented when we consider it to be "performance" time!

What's the problem with practice? Nothing, if its purpose is performing. When we perform, the mindset should be playing for keeps, entertaining the listeners and having fun while doing the music. Practicing however, can easily be so problem-oriented that the nearest ER is soon jammed with trumpet students striken with "paralysis through analysis." So the goal before us is how to maintain a performance focus while still giving attention to developing the vital mechanics of trumpet playing. And that remains the music school question of the ages!

If that dilemma could be adequately addressed, then the marketplace would be saturated with thousands of highly qualified and continually motivated soloists. But then again there would not be enough jobs for all of us heros. There would simply be too many great trumpet players for one world to contain! The public would soon become board with so much brilliance and lose interest. But I digress.

Getting back to our question of creative productivity on a daily basis, let's begin by placing ourselves on stage, free, relaxed, and energized by the fun of the mission we are on! And that is performing music. Let's not forget it. How about something that will take some time and adjusting, but will be well worth the effort? How about down with "PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT", and up with "PERFORMING MAKES PERFECT!"

Antidote for the Slugfest!

It was one of those long grueling slug fest weeks of 24/7 pops. Doc Severinsen was the soloist for one those marathon Telarc recording weeks. Doc owned the entire week, and he provided us memories to last us a life time. I arrived at rehearsals extra early just to hang around, hoping to catch some warm up tips. Maybe something would rub off just by being in the vicinity! As the start time of the rehearsal approached we heard what we expected: fireworks, high, fast, loud and louder! No one was disappointed. Doc was here! And he would deliver as he always does.

The strangest thing however was what I heard that was almost as memorable for me as the fireworks. An hour or more before the rehearsal there emanated from his dressing room very soft muffled groaning sub tones below the staff, like Clarke's first studies but with no great tone intended. He was just "massaging his chops" as he told me be later. Sensitivity and responsiveness was the goal for those early morning sessions. It was almost like the mouthpiece was barely touching his lips. Nerve endings were being coaxed into action a little at a time. No one would have guessed who was in that dressing room. I say it respectfully, but it could have been a grade school beginner!

He took his time, rested, and then resumed his work gradually extending his range. Adequate time was being spent slowly preparing his embouchure for the fierce battles just ahead. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he could care less what listeners thought of his playing an hour and a half before the rehearsal.

Before long he was beginning to sound like himself. His air was totally under control and the lips were flexible, responsive and ready for air travel at supersonic speeds as well as whispering soft volumes. No doubt the slow soft regimen is one of his secrets. It's easy to hurry onto the stage having neglected the soft therapy necessary for engaging our lips in combat! And then we get felled by the first barrage of high and loud demands.

The rehearsals were long. The week was long. The concerts were long. The recording sessions were even longer. And the amazing thing about it all was that it appeared to be all fun for Doc, and it was! His drive, passion and stamina were something to behold. No doubt his love for what he was doing sustained him. But only a few of us noticed the painstaking drudgery of soft preparation that played that vital part in his music-making and his longevity.

Each of us must discover what secret weapons work best for us. Usually it will involve some careful soft therapy in doses we learn to prescribe for ourselves. It's probably wise to keep a supply of soft medication handy, and take it regularly.

What should the audience be thinking?

Several students had just played some solos for Mark Ridenaur during his master class. Pretty nicely done! Always hard to play cold, but well done, guys. I was eager to hear with his ears. Where would he start? What was plan A for critique? I liked his answer. He didn't go straight for technique, phrasing, intonation, breathing, etc. (although he gave the necessary attention later to proper mechanics). His comment: "What do you want the audience to be thinking about?" In other words, devote more of your attention to your message, and don't worry about your delivery. Certainly the basics cannot be slighted, but I like his putting the horse in front of the cart.

This is encouraging. The first step is to have a firm concept of the piece as a whole, including each movement and each phrase. The trumpet is not even necessary while this step is being solidified. The first practice sessions are in the listening room. Getting the concepts firmly ingrained is the assignment. Careful listening, singing and imagination must follow. At this point you will know exactly what you want to say, and a vital portion of your preparation will have already been accomplished!

Then the trumpet work begins, shaping each section with the listener in mind. Jacobs always said "Tell a story! You are an actor on the stage." Often that visualization jump-started us students who seemed forever stuck in the Clark and Schlossberg books! (absolutely no offense intended for either).

The details may indeed fall into place at some point, but they may not translate the message to the audience nearly as powerfully as a shot fired over the footlights with some drama! As Jacobs would describe, "You have put on your grease-paint. Now get out there and pour your heart out!"

Paying Attention

Excellent master class yesterday given by Mark Ridenaur, associate principal trumpet with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra! He was asked a great question. "If you had your schooling to do over again, what would you do differently?" After taking a moment to think on his answer, he responded with a great on-point reply. "I would listen more, and pay more attention to what was going on around me."

A common problem in our schooling is "so much to cover in so little time!" Consequently, we put in many hours of practice, but find ourselves spinning our wheels and discouraged with the lack of real progress. Mark even confessed that up to 80% of his practicing while a student was unproductive. So the answer is usually not just more practice, but first knowing what to listen for. He talked about critical practice efficiency as well as an alertness to the skills of others.

Concerning private practice, he mentioned the consistent use of the metronome, tuner, decibel meter (for even sustained notes and phrases), and high quality recording devices on which side-by-side comparisons can be made with the best recorded passages. Real improvement came when he became serious about imitating the great players and correcting the areas of need that he heard in his self-recording.

Once in the Chicago Symphony the pressure was on to learn a lot of repertoire fast, increase and decrease dynamic range, polish legato technique, refine a variety of articulations, projection, tone quality, and survival abilities! Other than all that, it was easy! But I like the summary that begins the process for all of us: PAY ATTENTION!

Finding the Path of Least Resistance

One of the amazing things to me about great players is the apparent ease of their playing! They just look good. Today I asked a friend to tell me how a certain great player was doing. I like the answer I got: "He plays so relaxed and easily!" That assessment sounds so not profound. Yet isn't that how it should be? That short report gave me a free lesson.

There's the lesson: Start by making it look easy! Great conductors make "The Rite of Spring" look easy. Great high trumpet players make the Brandenburg sound effortless. The air just seems to flow quickly through the instrument and the music flies out. Our recording engineer was exuberant over the "singing like a bird" that my colleague did on the high B flats in "Star Wars." It just flew out there over the whole orchestra, and no guts were busted!

I wonder if most of us have been infected in varying degrees with the deadly "constricteditis disease"! Our air barely gets moving and it must begin a tight squeeze through the narrowist of pinchy, bending passages. When some of it finally dribbles out the bell, we are left exhausted, sore, faint, and faint-hearted! Our fingers are not quite in sync with our tongue so that the air must bump against the valves which further obstructs the flow. Sound familiar?

Playing trumpet shouldn't be rocket science or brain surgery. Surely the secret is finding the path of least resistance for the air. I guess you could say that the most successful players sound great with the least amount of effort. They turn all of their air into impressive results. Nothing is wasted. Their air is sent on a mission. The mission is great-sounding music, and it finds its path through the horn with the least amount of resistance.

"But what then?!"

One of the music majors in Cleveland talked excitedly with me this week about the looming big jobs out there as we looked out over the falling snow. We were dreaming, laughing, and serious as we shared our common passion, orchestral music-making. One of us was just finishing, the other just beginning. He could almost taste it success, practicing with the same determination as the scholarship football player conditions himself well ahead of the opening day game at Ohio State. Seeing the field of play, he seemed to be saying: Hey, I can do this! Playing all day is O.K. Life is good. You can't play enough because it is all preparation for the big game. Within two or three years, it's his opening day.

As I reflected on our time together, I remembered the thrill of the challenge, the passion for success, and the determination to be the best. It is long and tough, but a fun ride for sure. But what happens after you get the job? "What then!?" as the grandfather in Peter and the Wolf says.

There are only so many hours we can spend on the stage. How have we been prepared for the rest of the day? We excel on our instruments, but we also must deal with people and many other realities, pleasant and non. The "rest of our lives" often get left in junior high school somewhere, shoved aside and ignored, while we relentlessly pursued our single passion. The finances need to be managed, the house put in order, the soul attended to, our passions kept in check - all the things that didn't seem to matter when we were 20.

I hated the term, "well-rounded". I pictured someone who knew little about everything, and excelled at nothing! No thanks. Looking back however, I would choose a path somewhere between obsessive-compulsive and well-rounded, (but closer to the former). I would try to give the same attention to my non-music life issues. Otherwise I'm in for some unexpected shocks in the first week of the new job.

A respected colleague once said to me, as I visualized greener grass in a different orchestra job, "just remember, wherever you go, there you are!" How true. We bring to each situation all that we are, and all that we are not. Neither the job, the surroundings, nor the people, will change who we are and how we behave.

The Trumpet or the Trumpeter?

I saw a quote somewhere recently to the effect that you wrestle with the trumpet all of your life. Often you win, maybe most of the time, but at the end of your days, the trumpet wins. Rather a pessimistic view, but true. I wonder if actually the wrestling match was never really with the trumpet at all. Maybe the real contest was the trumpeter wrestling with himself.

My dad being the perfectionist that he was, always stressed over getting it just right. He was very good at anything he set his mind to do. He was the best. My brother and I didn't realize it, but we inherited much of that "it just has to be perfect or it's no good" mentality. In looking back I see that he was more valuable than the wonderful work he did. He wrestled all of his life, and in the end, his work beat him. Is our worth so linked to our performance that people don't matter, including ourselves?

It becomes written on our faces that we're not good enough, it must be better! Musicians inevitably become way too self-absorbed, focused solely on perfection. It just isn't possible and it isn't going to happen. We vacillate between pride and inferiority measuring ourselves against each other in perpetual insecurity. Something is wrong with our picture. Life is bigger than our stage. Our long-term influence is more important than our short-term note-making.

We must give ourselves wholly to our work, and an honest work ethic is a must. But what will be more remembered, you or your playing? Music is a job to be done well and enjoyed, but not obsessed over. When it's all over, the trumpets will be sold, and all that's left will be the trumpet player. And no longer a trumpet player, only the person.

Nail-Pounding

I like the image my son Wes, a senior at CIM, used to describe his typical week of viola practice. He said that although things were going well, he felt like he had at least ten nails to hammer down. No sooner does he get one nailed down, and another needs hammering. Somehow all ten nails never seem to stay down! Some facet of technique always works its way loose and needs renewed attention. I'm thinking, "Welcome to the business. Welcome to life!"

I wonder if anyone ever gets all the nails down permanently. Rather than a discouraging reality, I see this as a positive. Talking with Serge Nakariakov after his rehearsal of the Arutunian Concerto with our orchestra, the first thing he said was how he needed to practice a few passages again. We thought he had played flawlessly, but he had noticed a couple of nails that demanded his attention.

A colleague once described the futility of ever perfecting it all. He said technique-maintenance is like forever fixing a wobbly table. You sand down one leg, and the next wobbles. The only time the table no longer wobbles is when all four legs are completely gone. Then you retire!

At school, students have lengthy lists and assignments that, although necessary, seem rarely to get finished. Accepting the reality of an endless job somehow relieves a lot of the pressure and anxiety. Nobody is perfect, and even those who seem to have it together wouldn't agree.

The reality is that the nails must definitely be attended to, but not obsessed over, and certainly not avoided. My advice for those who plan to make a career of it: start pounding and get used to it!

Our Weaknesses

Glancing through Barry Green's book "The Mastery of Music", I noticed a brief passage quoting guitarist Christopher Parkening. Having just severely injured one of his fingers only days before an important L.A. concert appearance, he considered whether to cancel or not. Finding encouragement in I Corinthians 12:9, "My strength is made perfect in your weakness", he went on to play what he describes as one of the best concerts of his career, despite his handicap!

Our own weaknesses, glaring back at us daily from the mirror in one form or another, can become the very issues God uses to show us his power when we sense we have little or none. To become painfully aware of our weak areas and deficiencies is the first step in God's making us aware of his very active role in our circumstances.

Be encouraged! We notice only our discomfort. He sees us on his potter's wheel, being shaped, matured, and conformed to His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. How easily we miss this process as it unfolds daily before our eyes! Oh for sure, the clay resists and doesn't appreciate the reshaping process. Usually growth hurts, but He is not yet finished with us. He has promised to complete that which He has begun.

The New Student Filter Trumpet

Imagine finally receiving your brand new STUDENT FILTER TRUMPET! This instrument has a very expensive grid installed inside the back of the bell. Is this for real or what? No matter how you blow it, a full pure tone emerges! Purchased at great cost, this new instrument will guarantee professional music-making every time it is played. A dull, unfocused, fuzzy note is a thing of the past. It just can't happen because you now own one of the rare and expensive SF Trumpets.

Unfortunately, this special trumpet will not be sold to just any students, only to those who graduate. Not to worry, the success record for the SF Trumpet is 100%. No one who uses this trumpet will ever again play like a student! All evidences of unpolished, out-of-tune, boring playing become history. Once the horn is in your possession, you can graduate from school and run straight to the stage.

Now this is not like the Emperor's New Clothes kind of horn, for this possession impresses every single listener, not just the naive. Sure to draw a crowd, this trumpet will pay for itself many times over. Idle passersby will stop to listen in jealous amazement! Audition committees will snap to attention as soon as you play. And, you will never again hear those dreaded words, "Thank you, next."

Incidentally, do you know what is engraved on the top of the bell as it faces the player? "A Student No More!" Buzzzzzzzzzzz! Your alarm clock sounds and it's time to get up for class.

Secret Weapon

One summer in the pit, rehearsing an opera that didn't feature any loud, showcase trumpet parts, we kept getting the annoying hand from the conductor that says, "you guys are way too loud!" You know the insult to one's personhood that is! Well, after over an hour of this contest, our stubborness vs. his hand, we thought we'd show him just who could hold the upper hand.

Our strategy: play everything as soft as possible, I mean everything! He seemed relieved to be able to do something with his left hand besides waving it to shush the brass. (Actually, I don't know if he knew what else to do with it.)

As uncomfortable as our new defense was at first, it began to yield amazing results, not only for the orchestra balance, but for me! The discipline of very soft playing, although with the wrong motive, was developing super-sensitivity for the chops! Having to play consistently under the radar with a tiny decibel level was just the needed therapy that most of us brass jocks resist by nature! The conductor wasn't dumb, and surely saw through our immaturity. Nevertheless, he accepted our game plan opting to have less brass rather than too much, (in his view).

The bottom line of our antics, rebellion, immaturity, pride, call it what you will, was that an important component of brass-playing was being practiced. And that is soft, pp control. Isn't this first-step to technique-building plastered on every page of the Clark Technical Studies? We so easily miss it, and therefore miss out on the benefits.

I remember Mel Broiles confiding to me years after I had studied with him that the secret weapon of great trumpet players was soft playing. This surprised me coming from him. I had always respected his power and endurance. To play softly seemed unnecessary. It just wasn't an important part of our arsenal! Fireworks and knife blades are the attention-getters, not the delicacies of soft woodwind finesse. It's all about pizazz, man, not pianissimo! (or so we thought) Not quite.

He also said that trumpet players get too late smart! Oh to have been alert to that "secret weapon" sooner! "Balance Mahler with Haydn", he would say. "Practice Mozart when you have to play Strauss." He left it to us to figure it out.

Didn't someone say, "Speak softly, and carry a big stick!?"

Octave City

Vacchiano used to warn us that some exposed octave lies in waiting somewhere in every piece of music. "Therefore be ready," he said. It was our job to find them and have them ready. Item #2 on our to-do list is octaves of all sorts. (Item #1 was for dim-wits: the diminuendo. See last post.)

How many excerpt passages containing important octaves can you list on your practice menu? To get you started, how about: Zarathustra, Sinfonia Domestica, Death and Transfiguration, Mahler 5 and 7, Sheherazade and countless others. Continue the list and organize them for practice. Prepare them in different keys, rhythms and dynamics. Become an agile and accurate octave machine, an octave-pus!

Playing the Dim Game

I was reminded again today of the arsenal of attack weapons we need as trumpeters. Not only are many required, but they must be fired usually in a split second. Here's one that is often overlooked: It's our old friend and/or nemesis, the dim! Can you name at least ten standard pieces that require this skill? It's the diminuendo to nothing. Fermata with decrescendo a niete. Hold it forever. Get as soft as you possibly can. Floating into the ethereal. Call it what you want, but it always appears in the trumpet part in one form or another!

Well, how about practicing this disappearing act until it becomes natural! Pick a note, any note, and hold it with a long dim. without changing pitch or losing quality. To cut down on long hours of aimless practice, try isolating these needed skills and running through the list each day. Practice these items often. It doesn't have to take a lot of time. Just do it!

Practice item #1 is the diminuendo. Play the dim game (with your trumpet).

A Beautiful Sound? Who cares?

It's summer, and I'm going over to play with the neighbor kids. I'm lugging along my huge bag of marbles of all kinds, sizes and colors, hundreds of them. We had countless average ones, some weird clay ones, dull ones, cracked, chipped, etc. But our treasures were the beauties that we never traded. They were clear, bright, colorful, and were everyone's favorites, almost known by name. They were distinguished by their beauty.

Often we would line up all the very best marbles together in a row. They should have been worth millions, we thought! At least to us kids they were invaluable. Life was about having the most beautiful marbles on the block. And life was good.

Sitting intently through a Cleveland Orchestra dress rehearsal today, I remembered those childhood days of treasuring our most prized marbles. There on one stage were assembled some of the world's finest musicians just a few yards away. Each one extremely valuable, and each one seeming to shine as beautifully as any of our childhood treasures.

I was struck by the attention to their beauty of sound, evenness in balance, blend, flexibility and the overall skill of each player. Even in a dress rehearsal with only eight people in the audience, the musicians cared about what they were doing. Playing great is their business. Whether they felt like it or not, wasn't a factor. They play beautifully because that is what they do. That is why they are there. A great marble is always going to be a great marble!

Playing beautifully has unfortunately sometimes come to be viewed as something less than desirable. The ugly, blaring, and the grotesque phase of the job can often overshadow the need for quality. Gorgeous playing has come to mean effeminate or weak. But in Severance Hall that concept is shattered. Big bucks are paid for the best marbles. Beauty is more than sweetness and finesse. It is an attention-getting quality of sound appropriate for the context. It may be extremely loud, but yet it maintains high quality. Beauty then is what wins points. It sells. Beauty is marketable and extremely valuable.

I was reminded today in the rehearsal that in the race for quantity, never trade away your quality. Don't loose your best marbles!

LISTEN

A large sign used to hang behind the podium at all rehearsals of the Eastman Wind Ensemble. It read "LISTEN". We shrugged, "duh", and gave it little or no thought. Listen to what, and for what? How do you listen? It was so general it had no impact. Some of us were thinking only "listen to me!"

Imagine the high-tech version of that sign today, like a scoreboard automatically posting violations and remedies with flashing lights, singling out the guilty! "THE SECOND BASSOON IS SHARP . . . BY 6 CENTS. VIOLIN RHYTHM IS QUESTIONABLE. THE HORNS ARE LATE. TROMBONES TOO LOUD. PERCUSSION IS RUSHING, AND THE TRUMPETS ARE OUT OF TUNE WITH EACH OTHER". I'm sure we would have found a way to permanently disable that sign. Either that, or we would have quickly learned to prepare our ears for life in a first rate ensemble. We would have learned to listen or else!

Some 40 years later that one-word message still remains a challenge. The skill of good listening is often neglected in our training. Usually in too much of a hurry, we fail to evaluate what we have played or to compare it with the highest standards. It was said by one of my teachers, "you spray the air with thousands of notes of highly questionable value!" So it is quality of notes, not quantity. Good practice must include and be preceeded by good listening.

How about some hearing aids? Targets for our listening: consistent high quality of sound, sensitivity to balance (in ensembles), intonation, the right kind of articulation, projection vs. blending (ensembles), dynamic contrasts, and the style and impact of the music. Attention to details and impeccable control of technique are goals worth striving for, but it all begins with the ability to hear. Serious listening to great recordings and performances as a steady diet will yield the valuable fruits of mature musicianship. Casual attention to these essentials will not get it done. As it was said in Revelation, "he that hath an ear, let him hear."

Graduation! Now what?

Four years of school are over, just like that! Congratulations! You can't believe you finished the whole thing! Four years of the treadmill on high speed, and suddenly somebody pulls the plug. You know it is the finish line, but still it comes as a shock. At first you feel relief, and then probably a dozen other emotions race through your soul non-stop. I won't try to articulate them. You know what they are for you. I remember that mine went from celebrate to cry and everything in between many times over. At first were the up times, parties, etc. But then the seriousness of the next chapter began quickly to settle in. No sooner had the school door slammed shut almost in my face, and immediately the next reality approached. And reality usually comes in the fast lane. So now what?

Even for the most on-fire of you grads, I would suggest taking some serious time off the horn! You won't lose your purpose. In fact, you probably will come back even stronger, more determined, and focused than you are just now. Put the trumpet in it's nice little case that it has, and take a vacation. The extent of the musical responsibilities you have looming will determine the length of your visit elsewhere. But for now, go elsewhere senza tromba and relax. You've earned it. Congratulations!

Note #1: My dad told me after graduation from high school, "Phil, have a good time, but don't forget where you're going." In other words, don't be stupid. Keep your purpose in mind. That advice still keeps me out of a lot of trouble.

Note #2: Whatever those emotions are that are surfacing after the enormous pressures you've whethered, don't stuff them. Take this time to reflect, be grateful for how far you've come, express thankfulness where needed, have a good cry, and then be happy. You are going to have a career doing what you have always loved! Keep it that way. It's hard to be a grumpy musician and have your colleagues and your audience like your work. It is possible I suppose, but it is not easy that way.

I have a bunch of ideas for when you return to your trumpet case. But that's for another day. For now, go. I said GO! And congratulations!!!

"Locked and loaded"

Keep your ears open for lessons you can learn! They won't cost you anything. They are out there floating around during your day. But you have to look and listen for them. It could be a word, a phrase, a sound, a picture, a bus, taxi, even a truck driver! I like "the truck driver with a lobotomy" sitting up there on his air horn with absolutely no fear! Sometimes, and I say sometimes, that is the exact image we need!

Lately I heard a repeated phrase that finally caught my attention. Describing someone's playing a friend of mine said, "when he plays it locks in, solid." I like those words "locked in". Another one of my favorites is "it's automatic". There is no way that player is going to miss. "Nail-it" mentality, killer instinct, fixed on the target . . . you get the picture. It's Zarathustra on demand.

I remember hearing Mel Broiles play with such powerfully precise articulation that it made you blink and even wince. Each note had a point on it, yet it didn't offend, (unless he wanted it to). As a young student of his, I used to draw pictures of what his sound looked like! My tablet was full of gleaming knife blades flying out of his bell. He was also able to turn the most beautiful legato phrase, probably due largely to all the great singers he heard every day at the Met.

You probably can recall several instances that got your attention today. Can you translate them into practical lessons for your playing/teaching? Our skills are more useful when they are propelled by a message, an image, a story, or a situation. Describe something with your trumpet playing. Start with the composer's wishes. Now you take over and make it your message.

Why not go on a mission to lock and load for every attack! Blow each first attack out of the room, like a ball player first swings two bats. This might be good therapy for tentative, insecure articulation. Think knife blades, lazar tongue, pound-it city! (Now don't obsess on this! Remember moderation and balance.) Load up that thing and fire away!

Blame the BSO

Back in the 60s as an eager junior high/high school student, I was still tuning in to "Leave it to Beaver" and "Father Knows Best". I was quickly transitioning into a trumpet geek however. Blame the BSO among others. What a thrill to catch the Boston Symphony TV broadcasts from Symphony Hall! Each concert was an event. Compared to the high-tech polished productions of today, those black and white shows were pretty basic with only a few simple camera shots of each section. Even so, there was fire coming into our New Jersey home as the trumpet section took their turns in the spotlight. Voisin, Ghitalla and the guys were awesome. They say Mager who preceded them was something else. I often wondered if there had been a musical personality gauge on stage when those guys had auditioned. Something like a Geiger counter, or a seismograph ready to sense some radiant presence! "Maestro, this guy is off the charts! . . . Great, higher him! That's what we're looking for!"

As a mild-mannered quiet boy from suburban New Jersey, these pros from Boston blew me away and woke me up to the world of the symphony orchestra. I was full of imagination and ripe for hero-worship. The BSO trumpets were packed with pizazz, bursting with energy, and just plain looking for a musical fight with any section who would dare to take them on! That was how I saw it anyway. They reminded me of bumper cars at the carnival, belligerantly elbowing everyone else out of the way, and driving wherever they pleased. It seemed like they could make the instrument actually talk, squalk, and when called for, even bark out the notes into the hall in their distinctive angry fashion. During one extreme close-up of the trumpets, I was sure I could see flames and fierce-looking faces etched on the sides of their bells. It had been noted that smoke vapors could at times be seen emanating from the end of their horns! Wow!

I don't care if it was a Brahms symphony or a Mozart overture, it was never boring. In my view, this was more exciting than going to see the Yankees play. And those were the days of Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Roger Maris, and company. I had every one of those bubble gum cards! Too bad orchestras don't sell bubble gum cards of their players! If I were manager of the BSO back then, why we'd have great action poses of the brass heroes on every bubble gum card, extra bubble gum for the brass cards, and free bazooka bubble gum trumpet mouthpieces for all the students who attended . . . and. . . .

"Phil, time to get up. You'll be late to school!"

An Idea For The Next Bad-Chop Day

One summer at Blossom I overheard John Mack the former principal oboe of the Cleveland Orchestra say something to a chamber music ensemble he was coaching. "Don't worry about your great days, there will be plenty of those. Work on improving your bad days." I like that concept. You don't have to be having a great day to improve! That gives new hope and purpose for many discouraging spinning-your-wheels sessions. Yes, I may feel terrible, but that doesn't have to stop me from accomplishing something.

Progress often happens slowly. If you were to plot your progress over time, it likely would resemble the plains of Nebraska rather than the jagged mountains of Colorado. As we would make that long tedious road trip on vacations with the whole family from Ohio to Colorado, the little ones especially would become impatient with flat terrain. Where's the mountains, grandpa? Are we almost there, our 5-year-old grandson would ask? Yes, Andrew, we're making progress. But it doesn't feel like it, he complained!

True, it didn't seem like we were gaining any altitude at all, but it was happening imperceptibly as long as we kept moving westward. A simple thought, but maybe you can find some reason to take heart on many of those seemingly unproductive days. Improvement happens if we're steadily moving in the right direction. We don't have to notice it. We just have to move.

A couple of suggestions for such days: practice in short sessions, soft sessions, and sweet sessions. That is, play some of your favorite go-to music that cheers you, something fun. Soft playing is great therapy for the embouchure. Here's an ideal day to practice some of those pianissimo passages that usually get neglected on very active playing days. Don't get trapped into blowing a slug fest! Set a timer and stop playing. Rest the chops. Play little a lot, rather than a lot a little.

Find your own creative ways to improve when you don't necessarily feel like it. Take a weak area and break it down. Work systematically to bring that area of your playing up to a higher level. Rather than always practicing what you do well and avoiding your weak areas, decide to attack problem areas daily.

It may take a little time before you have a mountain top kind of day, so you may as well be steadily improving in the meantime. Enjoy the plains. Your mountains are just ahead! (Mountains indeed, but that is a topic for another day.)

How good are you today?

You are only as good as your worst day!

Greatness actually does strike all of us on occasion! We honestly consider that on any given day, with all circumstances in our favor, we could compete with the best in the business, and often, rightly so! The great trumpet hero somewhere inside each of us does emerge from time to time, but how often and for how long, that is the question! Why not invite your inner hero to participate in our day-to-day music routine and to hang out with you as long as possible?

Have you noticed how your Petroushka was flawless yesterday? And Mahler 5th is always awesome in the basement practice room? And your great endurance is usually a memory? We remember well that elusive affair with great chops and the I-can-play-anything mindset. If only we could recall those high moments when required, and be able to deliver with confidence like the great relief pitcher sauntering to the mound in the 9th inning to save the game night after night! Our success depends upon being able to use our skills consistently.

Two keys are vital in successful music-making over an entire career. First is the mastery and maintenance of all those seemingly boring basics: clean slurs, a beautiful focused sound, secure attacks, excellent intonation, flawless rhythm, effortless flexibility, high speed tonguing, great range, and control in all dynamics, to list just a few. Good mechanics bring job satisfaction and make you to become a highly valued team player. Constantly battling with the basics makes you a liability to your colleagues and a drainer of precious energy, theirs and yours. There is a great sense of accomplishment however, in seeking to execute all musical instructions perfectly. The concert then becomes a challenging game as you strive to play absolutely everything on the page! Instead of just getting by, you refuse to let anything get by you!

The other key to long-term survival is the ability to stay motivated with an energetic musical message that will withstand years of obstacles and discouragements. Reality is that there will be down times when inspiration seems to have run dry. Great players either have never experienced this, or else they have learned to disguise it. Certainly the latter must be the case. The spark of inspiring playing must be routinely practiced so that artistic greatness is normal and not left to chance. Simply, you have to sound enthusiastic even if you are not. Your musical vision must be stronger than any obstacles, internal or external. A very high percentage of your daily notes must be performance quality.

Here is where good basics hands over the baton to musical energy, drive, style and flair. The race is not finished with basics alone, for there are more laps left to be run. They get you into the race, but artistry finishes and wins at the end of the day. The transcending element here is the musical demands of the composer. Throwing yourself into the musical message gets you out of your doldrums. Hence you realize that you are the actor, the messenger conveying something very important to the audience. Listen often to the best for inspiration. There is no time for self-absorbed boredom. The audience is waiting, and you should be on a long term mission to deliver.

Are you in The Twilight Zone?

Does anyone remember "The Twilight Zone"? Ah, the 60s! . . . well. "Imagine, if you will", walking into a game of the farm club of the New York Yankees. You purchase your ticket, buy your hot dog, find your wooden seat, and get set to watch the future stars of the big leagues. Then to your amazement, something is very wrong with the picture before your eyes! The players are committing way too many errors. They seem strangely unprepared, and not nearly ready for prime time.

Do not adjust your TV, the problem is on the playing field! You see, these would-be greats have rarely if ever watched the real live New York Yankees play a major league game in Yankee Stadium! Impossible, you say. Baseball is what they are training to do. It's their passion, their goal, their future livelihood! No, what you see is real. You have just been taken out not to the ballgame, but into The Twilight Zone!

In the following scene you are entering a concert hall in a prestigious music school. You've purchased your ticket, found one of the many empty seats available, and get set to listen to the concert. Then to your amazement, once again something is very wrong with the picture before your eyes and ears! Why, these players are making way too many mistakes. They seem strangely unprepared, and not nearly ready for prime time.

The announcer interrupts the concert advising you that the problem is on the stage. You see, these would-be musicians have rarely if ever attended or listened to a major symphony orchestra concert, and they are not familiar with the music as it should be performed. Impossible, you say. Music is what they are training to do. It's their passion, their goal, their future livelihood! Unfortunately, what you heard is real. Once again, you have entered not the concert hall, but The Twilight Zone.

This scenario is intended to be motivational, not judgmental.

Did You Catch That?

Deep in the balcony students' binoculars are transfixed on the orchestra stage. The famous horn solo is approaching! Next, the beautiful flute cadenza followed by that very long and winding bassoon solo. Inevitably, the entire brass will impact the audience right between the eyes. Tonight each section will have its shining moments.

Eyes and ears prepare to take it all in. Undercover recording devices are turned on despite the risk. Then on cue, the solos pour forth with all the style, voluptuous sound, and panache one could want. The spotlight shifts from solo to solo, section to section. Like the awaited entrance of a glamorous Hollywood icon, the stage is now owned by one person at a time. All attention focuses on these soloists.

At last the final movement of the symphony races to its awesome climax. The last held note is milked for all the gusto available! The bows follow, solo and corporate. The audience then files out to return to their lives. But hopefully the students have stored enough inspiration and renewed love of their instrument to last them. They will remember the fireworks, but they may not have noticed some equally valuable skills that were clearly on display for any who would take note.

The featured excerpts were delivered, but so too was the control of every delicate entrance by every member of the orchestra. Chords were struck together, in balance and in tune. Pianissimo attacks were repeatedly executed flawlessly. All players were on the same page with rhythm and articulation. For two hours you were pretty much in a mistake-free zone!

In short, most of what contributes to successful performances is the control of the "nuts and bolts" of music-making. Great basics are the building blocks of great performances. The exciting solos are only part of the picture. What good is a cake with only icing? How valuable is the ball player who hits home runs, but who is a poor fielder? Great musicians have control of all facets of technique as well as impressive communication skills. Let's aim at being able to catch every detail on the page.

Where are we going?

Paavo Jarvi is great at signaling that the musical line needs direction. He would encourage us not to let the notes "get stuck." They must go somewhere, they can't just sit there. Call it energy, shape, or to use an old boring term, phrasing. In fact, isn't there a whole section in the Arban book dealing with that? Without this ingredient, music becomes just notes in time and space, a wonderful math problem to be contemplated, a treatise to be admired, a score to be studied. When given direction and style, the printed page becomes art.

Take a movement, a passage, an excerpt, or even just a phrase. What expression was intended? Where is the high point? When should there be vibrato or no vibrato? Can you show motion without changing the tempo? Can you imply a dynamic change without a big fluctuation in decibels? Do the dynamics highlight the phrase? What mood are you wanting to set, and what message are you sending, if any? Are you a computer or a flamboyant first violinist in a great string quartet? Are you matching the intention of the composer, or just trying to get all the notes? Are you involving your listeners? Are you just doing your job, or are you totally involved and loving every moment? And if not, can you convince your audience that you are?

After the nuts and bolts are in place, consider where you are going. Often the technical difficulties will take care of themselves when we aim at the target. The message is the music, not the notes.

Trumpet not needed!

There it is, that audition excerpt list staring back at you from your stand. You've been working through those orchestra fragments for weeks. However, something just might still be missing. It could well be that element in your playing that will make the committee want to advance you to semis. Suggestion: put the trumpet back into its case! For now it is not needed. Let's focus on just one thing.

Often the most deficient skill in auditions is steady rhythm. Good news, it should be the easiest to remedy. Most can play fairly well, but the beat is unsteady. Hence the audition committee shrugs and doubts that you can be trusted. You need not eliminate yourself for this reason. Instinctive rhythm should be a given. Of all things to miss on an audition, it should never be the tempo or the rhythm!

Start by clicking on the metronome obnoxiously loud with subdivisions if possible. Make sure you have a reasonable tempo for the excerpt. Don't be sent packing for your bizarre speeds. Internalize the beat and mark it by tapping with finger or pencil. Do this with absolute precision! With or without the metronome, you should be precise. Can you produce the tempo for each piece instantly without the metronome, and maintain it?

Next, you may add right hand fingers in exact sync with your metronome. Snap them on your left hand knuckles. That's why we have them, you know. Practice precision fingering at the right speed. Try this on the steering wheel while driving. Next, coordinate your fingers with your tongue. Tongue and fingers must be friends. Rhythmic perfection is your mission. Daily pulse out each piece with ever-growing confidence and insistence. Even slow excerpts must have a steady pulse. Be sure to subdivide to avoid rushing or dragging.

When you have absolutely had enough of this, then add singing with very exact pitches. This takes time and a lot of patience. If you can sing on pitch with precise fingering and tonguing, then you will have made huge progress! As you become more secure you can bring back the trumpet. Don't allow the horn to rob rob you of your rhythmic instincts and progress. You will find that a lot of style is achieved merely by great rhythm.

Taking Out theTrash

"Wince, You're on Candid Microphone"

On campus there has been a TV crew preparing a news feature on "The Practice Habits of the Poor and Not-Yet-Famous Trumpet Players at CCM." Your last practice session was recorded secretly, the whole thing, from the first fuzzy attack until the last blasted out-of-tune high G with that kiss at the end! Can you spell E-D-I-T? Too late. All of your notes matter, even when nobody you know of is listening. Next, they will be airing the secretly recorded practice routines of the ten top trumpet players in the country with a huge cash prize! Oh, if only you had been given a heads up!!

The point is, we waste too many notes, don't value them, don't care about them, and just don't bother to listen critically. Some of us err however in listening too carefully, being too self-focused, etc. The result there isn't so good either. But for the majority, I bet we just plain don't consider that the way we practice is the way we will play even when it counts.

Why not start tomorrow with an imaginary quality-note counter recording all of your practice? It monitors in percentages the acceptable vs. the unacceptable notes. How about finishing the day in the high 90's percentile? Actually, one bad note out of ten is still not acceptable, is it?

Money motivates. Say you get $100 for every note that will sell big, and get docked $50 for every note that, well, is a dud? There is also a legato sensor that monitors and rewards all fabulously smooth phrases, but releases a shrill basketball court buzzer sound when student-like notes are emitted! (Just like when you stole that shirt from Gap, and their alarm sounded, only worse!) The whole musical world will be listening with great interest, and you don't want to be embarrassing yourself. Isn't it time to throw out the trash? No one wants to hear it.

Slicing Your Loaf of Bread

What should your playing have in common with a loaf of bread? Answer: all the notes have the same quality regardless of how thinly sliced they are. Thin slivers taste as good as thick slices because they are cut from the same loaf. Your long tone is your loaf of fresh bread, and no matter how you slice it you should still have that same great sound.

Short notes deserve to have good tone too! Make sure they get a fair hearing. Just because they are short doesn't mean they should get pinched, chewed or swallowed. "Stop the tape" on all short notes for a quality check. Sometimes right hand finger pokes can be too aggressive and interrupt your evenness and tone quality. Regardless of how gnarly the phrase, steady air must keep all notes fed. Consider the organ. Sound quality remains the same regardless of length of notes.

Smooth air flow makes for smooth musical lines. Slurring an absolutely smooth half step interval is the standard for perfect legato. Copy that as more challenging intervals come at you. The clarinet seems to be a natural at being a legato machine. Observe your clarinet colleagues playing the big solo in Pines of Rome. You might as well take a free lesson while you are sitting there.

Reckon your air to be "dumb" rather than musical. Your air stream is merely your servant directing air onto all of your notes. Don't be doing hiccups with your air stream just because the music is nasty angular. You can be a jerk all you please, but don't do that to your neck, jaw, lips, shoulders and especially your playing! May all of your notes be swheat.

The tip of the brush

Great players never fail to impress by their finesse in the softest dynamics! Perhaps better known for their power surges, bolts of pizazz and shear volume, great players also can be relied upon to execute very delicate entrances and exits, the polished skill that marks them the cream of the crop.

One expects the fireworks and the overwhelming beauty of sound, but one usually forgets that every bit as necessary is the ability to drop a note skillfully into its place at the right time, at the right volume and in any register. Oh that agile, poised air column under the artist's perfect control, always on call and ready to serve the meticulous demands of the music!

Every great orchestra employs these athletes. For the best soloists, this subtle control is a given. But how easily is this art avoided and neglected in daily practice! For some reason this work is not fun, seems boring and unimportant. It is like the surgeon who loves heart surgery, but hates to practice perfect incisions. Once on the job however, this accuracy becomes the bread and butter of daily existence for both the surgeon and the musician.

How about the practicing of quiet, clean entrances of all kinds in all registers with the goal of 100% dependability? Be a perfect-note machine as well as the expressive artist. Use not only the broad stroke of the brush but also the fine tip for beautiful details!