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.