No More Boredom in Study Hall

Totally bored during my high school study halls, I decided to make good use of the time (as far as I was concerned.) Rhythm being the iron-clad building block of music that it is, and must be, I determined to begin practicing and perfecting it as much as possible. It seemed like it was the most learnable part of a music career, and I was setting out to nail it. My schedule said "Study Hall", but I was enrolling myself in "Rhythm 101".

So, as I stared at the ceiling with my mouth half open in what must have looked like a brain-dead stupor, little did our study hall monitor realize the rhythmic genius that was being developed right before her eyes. She must have thought that ours surely was the most handicapped of the slow learner classes in the entire state of New Jersey. I liked letting her think that. Anyway, onward I continued with my maniacal project!

First: establish a rock-solid tempo and don't change it. Keep it exactly like a machine for a couple of minutes. Next, tap or say eighth notes, 2 notes per beat. The best results came by saying "dut" for every note. It strengthens tongue muscles and develops coordination. After an unbearable length of time doing that without speeding or slowing, I would go to triplets, three equal notes to the same beat.

In case we couldn't remember how to do triplets, our H.S. Band Director told us to say "mulberry" for triplets and "huckleberry" for sixteenth notes. (I determined never to say mulberry or huckleberry ever again.) Then from triplets I went on to sixteenth notes, 4 to a beat. Then it got harder - 5's, then 6's, or two groups of triplets, and further if possible. (Come to think of it, he never told us what to say for quintuplets.)

That was all warm up. The challenge came next. Two measures of quarters, followed by two measures of eighths, followed by two of triplets, followed by sixteenth notes, quintuplets, and finally sextuplets. Then without pausing, I'd reverse it, never stopping or changing the tempo. Now, speed it all up, as fast as you can say "dut-dut-dut-dut".

Next one could go at random from triplets to quintuplets to quarters, etc, etc, all with a steady beat. A friendly neighbor could make hand signals to you indicating what subdivision to do next. (Why was he always telling me to do only quarter-notes with his finger?) By now the study hall monitor would approach with stern looks of disapproval. Evidently I was making noise with my "duts". I hated it when my sextuplets got interrupted by study hall monitors.

But onward I would persist. Next, tapping quarter-note triplets, four on three, five on four, and six on five, as far as you can go. It helped to chart those superimposed rhythms on graph paper. You can also recognize the sound of the beat patterns as they bounce against each other. This was very cool. Maybe my math would improve. . . .

And then I would try to . . . . BELL !!!!!. . . . Study Hall's over. On to Algebra. (Hope he lets us study quietly.)

To Think or not to Think

Which advice works best for you? "You're thinking too much. Just play!" or, "Think about what you have just played. Listen to yourself. It's a mess!" For some, the need is refinement and detail work. Others desperately need to loosen up and consider the music. While some need to get to the practice room, others need to get to the stage. Obviously both are necessary.

I remember Arnold Jacobs insisting on the playing mechanics being studied and well executed, but he never stopped there. All the parts must serve the musical whole. The actor studies the script, practices his lines, prepares the delivery. But when the curtain goes up, it's showtime. His responsibility is to become his character. Practice is over as it's now all about performing. Both types of preparation are vital. The key is learning to use both to our advantage.

The nature of school curricula seems to be heavy on practice and light on performance. And that is probably as it should be. There is a season for learning, and there is a time to play. The most effective learning however takes place in concerts. Showtime teaches us what we need to do in the next practice session. Performances provide our practice agenda. We need a good balance of both practice and performing. All practice and no shows make Jack a very dull trumpet player. And all show and no practice also makes Jack a very dull trumpet player.

Sometimes it is best to think more, but sometimes it is better to think less. Think about that. What a life! We work, and then we get to play. Not a bad profession. In most jobs they never get to play.

Nightmares Happen

No matter how well prepared we are, those worst nightmares have a way of happening anyway. These are probably quite mild by comparison, but here are some well remembered heart-racing moments.

Orchestra stands for a bow at the end of the concert, and my chair slips over the protective lip on the riser. We sit and I tumble all the way to the floor. Do I climb up or stay there obscured by the riser until the applause stops?

It's a Carnegie Hall Pops concert, and as usual we are juggling three or four horns as well as a bevy of mutes. One very fast Harmon mute change was so fast that the mute never made it to the bell. It was frantically fumbled and literally thrown all the way through the viola section where it rolled around and around next to one of the cellists who was staring at it quite alarmed. It then got slowly passed back to its red-faced owner.

The trumpet case felt unusually light that day. Getting to the opera rehearsal and opening the case, I found only my piccolo trumpet. No time to go home. Puccini doesn't sound right an octave higher, but the rehearsal must go on. I made it through the entire three hour rehearsal, and the conductor was never the wiser.

All excited about my lesson in Chicago with Arnold Jacobs, I couldn't wait to get back to Cincinnati and apply some of those neat concepts in the next rehearsal with Maestro Schippers. The lesson was about learning to warm up in a shorter amount of time and being much more efficient, etc. He had warned that I wouldn't always have the luxury of a lengthy warm up. I had forgotten to reset my watch from Central to Eastern Time. As I walked into the rehearsal, the orchestra was already tuning. I had ice cold chops and no warm up at all! Of course the first entrance required trumpets. Not a good day.

Tours always seem to be accident-prone. On one New York trip I lost a camera, a back support cushion, a watch, a razor cord, and a D trumpet! Amazingly I got the trumpet back.

The Carnegie Hall stage has only one entrance, and exit. Once you're out there, there is no turning back. (There's a lesson there somewhere.) The huge food selection at one of those 24-hour buffets that afternoon turned out to be a bad idea. We battled our way through Heldenleben that night, and I was sure I was going to have to make a mad dash though the entire orchestra to get off stage, and not for the off-stage trumpet calls. The battle was intense, but we finished it and I made it just in time. Not a good night, but it could have been a lot worse.

The First Lesson with Vacchiano

Just as the trained physician accurately diagnoses the ailment and prescribes the cure, so too the experienced teacher is able to quickly zero in on a student's greatest need. Taking out his pad, the doctor jots down the pages from his Arbans Book of Remedies, makes sure he is properly understood, and sends the student on his way to practice. No need for flatteries or pleasantries. Problems are identified, and steps listed for healing are prescribed. Now just go do it.

Such was the case at my first lesson with Mr. Vacchiano in 1965 at the old Juilliard School on Clairmont Avenue in New York City. It was the most unlikely neighborhood for top-notch music instruction in that cultural center of the world. But be that as it was, that was where one went to improve. I was still an obnoxious self-confident high schooler, but I was well rehearsed for this anticipated moment, and determined to show him a thing or two about my pyro technics and exuberant trumpet playing, such as it was.

After an etude performed at great-neck speed, (the one in c# minor, in one) from Caffarelli's 16 Etudes of Perfectionment, and an overly emotional opera excerpt from The Art of Phrasing in the rear of the Arban Book, Mr. Vacchiano quietly turned to page 125 in Arban. With his pencil he tapped an impossibly slow tempo and commanded me to play staccato 8th notes, one line at a time.

Completely humiliated and frustrated, I failed to even come close to pleasing either of us. Every note could be heard for what it was, consistently sloppy. How could all of my preparation come to naught? After addressing a few personal observations about my approach to the trumpet, he sent me on my way. "Come back in two weeks when you can play one line on page 125 accurately."

I applied myself diligently to this new kind of discipline. I did it only because it was he who had assigned it. It must be worth doing. Still it was a lesson I needed to have taken again and again throughout my career. Unfortunately it is one which tends to be blown off by most students. "Bring on the concertos and the bravura excerpts, but don't ask me to play 12 notes in a row, clean, slowly, in tune, and perfectly accurate. What fun it that?"

I was beginning to learn that my concertos and excerpts would never mature and be ready for prime time until they were preceded by the slow discipline of preparing one perfect note at a time. I had given maybe 10% attention to fundamentals, and 90% blowing in the wind, albeit very impressive blowing so I thought. But the challenge was to receive the instruction that required attention to the excellence of details.

Precise instruction - great teachers know how to administer it, and great students learn how to receive and apply it.

A Different Kind of Fireworks

There we sat, about five of us finalists in the BSO dressing room awaiting the verdict from the audition committee. Thee Roger Voisin was retiring from his amazing career with the orchestra. I felt a bit guilty even being there as a possible replacement for one of the giants that had been a hero of mine for so many years. As we all sat together chatting somewhat uncomfortably for what seemed like hours, the room suddenly burst open. It was not a committee person with the announcement, but it was the exuberant one himself, R.V.

"Hi, boys! I just wanted to see who to give my key to." He grinned as he held high his locker key, as if the highest jumper would get it. No one would be the first to speak, although inwardly we were all yelling, "Give it to me. I'll take it!" Next he opened his locker, picked up one of the trumpets hanging on its hook and proceeded to play something for us.

Many times I had heard his remarkable ability to bury an orchestra. I have also heard about his picking up the high horn cold and knocking off the opening of the last movement of the Brandenburg. So I expected some fireworks right there in the locker room. But he had a different kind of fireworks in mind for us. He had a knack for injecting the needed ingredient of the moment, and his mission was again about to be accomplished.

His C trumpet already had the necessary Bach black mute installed, so he proceeded to impeccably execute some multiple-tongued nasty fast French flourishes. I don't know if it was Debussy, Bozza, or the Toy Soldier March, sad to say. But it was fast, very soft, absolutely clean, and very impressive. Then he sort of winked at us, hung the horn back in its place, and turned to leave saying, "Let me know which of you boys gets the key." He seemed to have put us all in our places.

I can still hear those prophetic words. That man indeed possessed many keys which he was always willing to impart to the most eager receivers. Even in those final days with the orchestra, Roger Voisin was still leaving lessons for those who would take them. We were impressed that he probably could have auditioned that day and won his own job back!

Concertos That Are Hard to Like

Sweep all the dust into one pile. Pick it up, throw it away, and then feel better. And stay out! This is not a rant on players, but pieces. Granted, it is not nice to say these things about certain annoying concertos, but maybe it will be good therapy to gather them into one pile before disposing. Perhaps a cathartic exercise, getting it out of the system. There, there, that wasn't so good.

Tops on the list: How about the Mozart Clarinet Concerto? How about not! Why do clarinets so seldom use vibrato? All the other woodwinds can. What if all the other woodwinds played absolutely straight, while the clarinets were allowed to schmaltz it up? Very strange.

Then there are those Rococo Variations of Tchaikovsky labored over by all of those struggling cellists. Way too many variations. The theme alone would have been just fine. Only one time through should do it for the whole thing. And for sure, no more than two hearings should be permitted for the Schumann Cello Concerto. Two and through. It was already old at the premier.

The Hindemith Sonata for Trumpet must surely have been hard to have to write, as it is to have to learn, as well as to have to learn to like. No one should have to sit through a performance of it, especially when crashing and burning is likely to be part of the performance practice. Old man Paul surely knew what he was inflicting on us with that final inscription: "All men must die!" His last laugh.

Oh, that raspy Mendelssohn Violin Concerto that is always in E major! It should at least be put into another key, like D flat, or C flat minor. Well, they tried to improve the Hummel Trumpet Concerto by lowering it a half a step, but it didn't work. It's still here. Someone should lower it a couple more octaves. Maybe a nice 6/8 march tempo would greatly improve the first movement of that old Moldy Mendelssohn Violin Concerto.

Bassoon concertos, all of them, should be illegal. Bass concertos likewise should only be allowed if water boarding is. Give captives their choice of agony. Water boarding isn't so bad.

I heard a piccolo concerto one time. It was well played by a great player. It was by Vivaldi, but it was still awful.

Extra Quality

"I know that guy! Who is he?" As the CSO awaits its new principal trumpet, Robert Sullivan, the audience has been seeing a few new faces filling in the ranks. Since their names aren't listed in the program, I hear a lot of, "Hey, who was that?" Here are some of the quality players that have been contributing in recent months.

Outstanding work has been heard from Chicago Symphony Orchestra assistant principal Mark Ridenaur, most notably in the recent Prokofiev CD with Lt. Kije and the 5th Symphony. It is all first-class playing! In fact, in Music Hall, if you listen very carefully, you can still hear Mark's gorgeous off-stage call from Kije echoing in the foyer. On the Moussorgsky Pictures CD to be released later this year, it will be Mark playing as well.

Earlier this season the Bartok Concerto for Orchestra week was played by Ryan Anthony, the new principal trumpet with the Dallas Symphony. His biography is impressive. He was a member of the Canadian Brass and has performed with many major orchestras in the U.S. and abroad. He is an experienced soloist, clinician, studio player, and has taught at several colleges. Ryan's versatility is evident with his numerous recording projects for TV, radio, and motion pictures.

Mark Inouye played principal on the Mahler 7th week last fall. Mark has been acting principal trumpet with the Houston Symphony and a member of the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. Mark is an awesome player equally at home in the world of classical and jazz music. Mr. Inouye's resume has lots of solo, orchestral, ensemble, and recording experience. He is also an active composer and has toured internationally with the Empire Brass. Mark was a founding member of the Juilliard Jazz Sextet at Lincoln Center.

Robert Sullivan, Assistant Principal Trumpet in the Cleveland Orchestra since 2003, played a Wagner/Beethoven week with the orchestra in the fall. Bob comes with prior experience of eleven years as Associate Principal Trumpet with the New York Philharmonic. He was on the faculty of the Manhattan School of Music, and later joined the faculty at the Cleveland Insititute of Music. Bob also played for four years in the Charleston Symphony Orchestra where he also was Adjunct Professor of trumpet at Charleston Southern University and the College of Charleston.

Mr. Sullivan was a student of Armando Ghitalla at the University of Michigan, and was a Ghitalla Fellowship winner at Tanglewood. After leaving the Air Force, Robert became solo trumpet in the Chicago Chamber Brass. He is an active recitalist and clinician. He has had recent solo performances of Haydn, Hummel, Bohme, L. Mozart, Torelli, and Telemann as well as a concert with the Summit Brass, and a Gabrieli recording with the Empire Brass in which he conducts members of the Empire Brass, Boston Symphony, and the N.Y. Philharmonic. Robert has performed recitals throughout Europe, South America, and Asia. He has collaborated on concerts with the Canadian Brass and the German Brass. He is one of the top players in the country and brings his experience, talent and wonderful playing to Cincinnati.

Anthony DiLorenzo is another amazing player who has complemented the trumpet section this year. He likewise has experience as soloist with top orchestras. Trained in Boston and Curtis he brings versatility and mature musicianship. Anthony is a member of the Burning River Brass, and Proteus 7, a mixed chamber ensemble. He is also an Emmy Award-winning composer whose works have been performed by major orchestras and can be heard on numerous TV networks.

John Rommel, currently Professor of Trumpet at Indiana University, has periodically filled in with the CSO. John has been a valuable player who brings his years of experience as principal with the Louisville Orchestra as well as a rich resume of solo and recording projects. His chamber music experience includes performances with Summit Brass and the quintets of St. Louis and Nashville. John also has extensive commercial recording experience both in Indianapolis and Nashville. He is also a clinician for the Bach Corporation.

Cincinnati Associate Principal Trumpet Doug Lindsay has been the real hero for the past two years. Always prepared and always accurate, Doug continues to cover the majority of principal parts, doing a fabulous job week after week, and that includes many Pops responsibilities. Most jobs these days require flexibility to be able to cover all parts. Doug has proven that he can handle any assignment. Any orchestra would be happy and fortunate to have a Doug Lindsay in their section.

It is obvious that quality abounds in this highly competitive trumpet world. Just reading these brief resumes gives us a lesson in showing what is needed in preparation for an orchestral career. Congratulations to all the above who have contributed so brilliantly to the CSO in recent months.

Pops or Not?

Matching quiz (result of too many pops concerts and way too much free time):

1. "Jaws" answer: c
2. "Oh, Canada" answer: g
3. "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" answer: f
4. ESPN Theme answer: b
5. "I'll be Seeing You" answer: a
6. "Sleigh Ride" answer: h
7. "Buglers' Holiday" answer: e


a. Mahler's Third Symphony (clue: last movement)
b. Charlier's Solo de Concour (clue: very opening)
c. Dvorak's New World Symphony (clue: opening of last movement)
e. Britten's Young Person's Guide (clue: you don't need one)
f. Mahler's Ninth Symphony (clue: it's slow, can't miss it)
g. Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto (clue: first movement)
h. ESPN Theme (clue: giddy-up!)

Note: 4. and h. don't match

Johnny One-Volume

The mindset of the typical auditionee: "I'll be O.K. as long as it's fortissimo. If it's loud, I'm nailing it every time. Listen to me guys. I'm king of the orchestra! (Sure hope they don't ask anything soft.")

Just as no one can drive at only one speed, no trumpet player can survive with only one volume at his disposal. Our comfort zone must be large and able to encompass all dynamics. Great players have huge comfort zones, or at least their listeners think so. They must fly through the air with the greatest of ease. Only when they have learned to obey all of the traffic signs are they free to move about the country at will. But using only one speed kills.

So if you are a one-volume-fits-all player, don't worry. At least you have excellence in one area. Now begin venturing into unfamiliar neighborhoods so that you have clout and respect in more than one district. Take your show on the road. Visit the quiet hospital vicinity. If you play too loud, sick people might die. The elderly are crossing. Drive very slowly and carefully. No hitting-and-running allowed.

Transfer your strong suit to a weaker area. Then take it beyond what's required. Play way softer than needed, but with the same quality. Become reliable at different speeds as well as various dynamics. Flexibility and control rules.

You can't just race that semi in high gear through residential areas. You must skillfully maneuver without crashing or burning. Simply, you gotta make it sound good no matter how soft it is.

Another Hero is Gone

Quietly yesterday in Auburndale, Massachusetts a hero passed from the trumpet scene. Roger Voisin is dead at 89, once the youngest member ever of the Boston Symphony. He was born in Angers, France, and studied with his father Rene and the great George Mager whom he joined in the BSO at the age of 17. Roger's tenure began in 1935 and ended in 1973. He led the section as principal from 1950 to 1965. He was equally renowned as a teaching mentor for his countless number of inspired students.

In our home in N.J. the recordings of the BSO and their televised broadcasts could be heard regularly. One could get a free lesson just by tuning in. Those shots of the trumpet section provided enough inspirational ammo to send me straight to my room for hours of practice. Although he never gave me a lesson, I have taken many from him. Those solo trumpet recordings on the Kapp label with the bright red, blue, or green velour on the cover gave me regular injections of needed energy. Mr. Voisin's wonderfully stylized playing left impressions that I will never forget.

I loved the fact that each of the BSO trumpeters had totally different embouchures. They seemed to break all the rules of mouthpiece placement, aiming in all directions. But never mind, what came out of their bells was on fire. Roger Voisin was king in those days. He was arguably the most energetic orchestral player of all time. Of course there have been many greats, each with distinctive qualities and strengths, but none with the personality and character of Roger. His playing was instantly recognizable.

Those summer days at Tanglewood in the late 60's were like a trumpet student's heaven. Great players were everywhere. Mr. Voisin's way with music was infectious, and we seemed to learn by osmosis. Whether he was coaching or conducting brass ensembles, or driving us through sight-reading exercises, we got quick, blunt, practical instruction always with his dry humorous wit. Solfege was one of his skills, and he drilled us relentlessly to develop those needed reading and rhythmic abilities.

To condense such a brilliant career is impossible. Known well in the publishing world, he left us several of the International volumes of orchestral excerpts that are must-haves for trumpet libraries. Numerous pieces have been edited and arranged for trumpet. But Roger's legacy for me was his enormous energy, stamina, musicianship and confidence. For so long Roger Voisin was that vibrant, spirited, and wonderfully belligerant hero of the trumpet section. Now sadly, his trumpets and the man lie silent.

Note-Crafting

It's application time! CD's are being prepared for competitions, jobs, auditions, grad schools, summer institutes, etc. Committees everywhere will have stacks of concertos of Haydn, Hummel, picc solos, and lists of excerpts to sort through. Sadly, some will never be heard past the exposition. What justifies the rejection of so many valiant efforts?

We first need to get into the minds of the judges. What appeals and what offends? A good committee is very good at quickly sifting through applications. They can usually tell all they need to know in the first few seconds. For that reason the best playing should be offered immediately. Judges are not known for being forgiving, but for recognizing excellence. No A's are awarded for effort, and no flaws are allowed. They are looking for the standout. If you want to win, you must nail it from your first entrance.

The general impression of your playing is only as good as the excellence of all the parts. Discerning evaluators will be impressed by your attention to those small but vital details. Notes may not be out of tune. They also cannot be clunky and lifeless. Each note must be polished. No notes can be ignored, but must be crafted for their perfect fit in the music.

So how do you practice crafting? Suggestion: imagine a floating fermata that plants itself randomly on any note. As you play, say the phantom fermata lands on one of your 16th notes. You quickly hear the quality, or lack of it, fix it and continue. It then finds an out-of-tune 8th note and parks on it until you adjust it. Call it the "stop-the-tape" game. Wherever it stops, it alerts you to make corrections. Eventually the ear starts to get picky instead of being willfully tone-deaf.

The Dynamics Police will also arrest you if distinct dynamic markings are not observed. Judges must know that you are aware of everything that is printed on the page. And then you must please the Phrasing Freaks. How about those judges with "last-noteitis"! They listen to make sure you leave as nicely as you entered.

Just as it is with all art, each part contributes to the greatness of the whole. None of our notes don't count. Awards go to the best quality, and that applies to every leaf in the forest. What we tend to neglect is the painstaking effort to recognize and remedy our bad notes. Hearing them is one thing, but it is the one who has learned how to craft them that wins the prize.

Dealing with Burnout

Unfortunately this is the season not for blazing practice frenzy, but a sudden shortage of fuel for the fire, commonly called burnout. Nearly as contageous as the flu, it approaches stealthily taking its unwilling prisoners. The usual symptoms are unproductive practice sessions, fatigue, and motivation turned cold. If only the remedy were waiting it out with a couple of aspirin!

Some suggestions based on trial and lots of error: First, the good news is that no one is immune. Struggling with progress, or even trying to maintain your ground, is part of the business. It is universal. Keeping motivated is perhaps the most difficult long range assignment. It separates the O.K from the greats. Vince Cichowicz confessed that only 10% of the time did he feel like everything in his playing was going the way he wanted. The rest was working to conceal and deal with the 90%.

Learning how to handle challenging obstacles is one of the marks of great musicians. So when we are down-in-the-dumps, we can take heart. Here's our chance. This is how it's going to be. We must get used to it. Gather your own collection of inspirational tips, and begin using tomorrow to find your voice. How well can you play when your heart isn't in it? Remember Pagliacci?

When inspiration runs out, never mind concerto run-throughs. Use the day to polish needed details. For example, drill your trills. They should be clean, in rhythm, and appropriately graceful.

Another pesky necessity is first notes. As long as you're bored you might as well improve something. Rehearse tons of entrances, playing only the first notes. Get each entrance perfect. You know you'll be needing them.

How about taking a few short phrases from your solo, excerpt, or etude repertoire, and playing them at a snail's pace, perfectly in tune. Be sure to listen to your last notes as well. They rarely get enough attention. You must finish the phrase as nicely as you began it. Know your entrances and exits.

Then you could have a quality-only day. (duh!) Allow only slowly played top quality notes out of the bell. Pinched, inhaling notes will not be rewarded. Only money notes permitted! This should shorten your sessions considerably! It will also save you from wasting your time and your lips.

There are countless items to work on that don't require artistic inspiration. How about fast scales, chromatics, arpeggios, or high and slow speed multiple tonguing. Fermata with dim. is another one. You can come up with your own list of needed refining.

Chances are that you'll find your uninspired mood being replaced with confidence. Disciplined basics give you the tools to be expressive and in control. Then life in the practice room and on the stage can be fun. No longer hamstrung by your deficiencies, you will be free to execute the demands of the music. Burnout begins when we ignore control of basics. Most of our work must be done whether inspired or not. So just do it, and don't whine about burnout. It is fixable!

Hakan Hardenberger at CCM

The musical well is very deep for trumpet master Hakan Hardenberger. Whether it was Hummel, Kagel, or Hertel being played for his master class, he had an enormous reserve to draw upon as he wonderfully critiqued solo performances by UC trumpet majors. No one got a kind pat on the shoulder, but rather a swift but well-placed kick. The guys were put through the wringer, as it should be. Each gave his best and so did he. I was reminded of the black cloud monster in TV's LOST that literally hurls its victims about at will. Thanks, we needed that! Way overstated, but this was just the medicine that yields the results of inspiration, a bigger vision for the music at hand, and of course improvement. All of that happened tonight.

Bravo to Rory, Matt and Steve, each responding well to technical and musical challenges as Mr. Hardenberger continued to raise the bar. He's a tough coach, but one who's on your side. I wondered if he'd ever considered coaching football!

A few musical highlights: Be convinced about what you want to say well before delving into a work. Know how you want it to sound. Learn as much as you can about the composer and the period in which he wrote, and so bring authenticity and depth to your performance. Find the tension/release points within phrases. Organize and prepare those dramatic moments for the audience to recognize. Use appropriate theatrics to keep the listeners involved. Avoid boring one-dimensional playing. Create the intended atmosphere.

Imagery was a big item. Rory was advised to catch some of the UC basketball game going on later that night. Hakan wanted him to observe the dribbling ball, (for the pulse and buoyancy of his eighth notes). The trampoline was referred to several times for obvious reasons. Diving off the board pictured momentum, spring and direction. The floating glider fit perfectly for Steve in those amoroso phrases in the Hertel. Rory played better while walking, (pulse, direction). (I'm sure he was relieved. I recall him being asked to hop around while playing Tartini!) Matt gave his all on the very difficult Kagel, yet still left the stage a better player.

Some nuts and bolts practice items: The first note must be absolutely secured before continuing. Lots of very slow soft practice was recommended, emphasizing the word VERY. As a violinist sees and feels the shift on the finger board, we must securely master interval changes, automatically guaranteeing each note. Soft attacks must be wrestled with until they become a natural part of our technique. As in all kinds of music, intonation is critical to greatness.

The huge amounts of time Mr. Hardenberger spent practicing in his 40 years of playing is a big reason for his success. There are no short-cuts. Hakan said that as a boy, if he was awake he was playing the trumpet!

Mr. Ghitalla always reminded us that we will play the way we are. We can only offer the audience some of what we have inside. Again tonight, Mr. Hardenberger challenged us to build our reserve. That reserve will consist of all we invest in our study of, practice of, and love for music. Music talent is a gift. Our musical instincts can easily become dwarfed unless stimulated and stretched. Our thanks to Mr. Hakan Hardenberger for doing that, and generously sharing of himself and his extraordinary gift.

Strengthening strengths

It makes sense, what we've been told. "Work on the weakest areas of your playing, fix deficiencies, address problems, conquer fears, etc. Never mind practicing those things you do well, just work on that list of things you don't do well." No professional is professional without a continual focus on that ever-present agenda. Perfection is the burning goal. However, we've also heard, "go with what got you there." A home run hitter is counted upon to deliver his thing, and that isn't bunting.

In such a competitive profession, it's good to remember that it is the knock-out punch, the slam dunk, the grand slam in the bottom of the ninth that wins points, games and fans. Fundamental skills must be automatic, but it is the fireworks in all their various forms that win hearts. In all the boredom of drills and mechanical work which must be secured, it is rejuvenating to include some of that killer instinct, the wow, and the final exclamation point in our daily routine. It's needed therapy for listeners and performers.

This was demonstrated in this week's concerts by the CSO in a spectacular program that featured all sections at their best. Brass, winds and percussion were quite busy doing what they do. Visiting principal trumpet Mark Ridenaur of the Chicago Symphony was the hero. That was how it's supposed to sound. The roar of the crowd as he stood for the first bow said all that needs to be said. Bravo to Mark for his outstanding contributions to great music making!

Bill Campbell's m/c and recital at CCM

There are great players and there are great teachers. William Campbell, trumpet professor at the University of Michigan, is both and more. He is a seasoned quality musician with impressive credentials. But what especially stood out to me was his ability to motivate and inspire. He had no lack of helpful advice for the two students who played for him. We all got a free lesson. Wonderful musicianship is there and cannot be hidden. You walk away encouraged about music-making.

Joining him on their mini-recital was trombone professor David Jackson, also from the U. of M. He was about great breath control, delicate flexibility and gorgeous expressive legato playing, as in Ravel's Habanera. The two complimented each other perfectly in works of Ewazen and Blacher. Mr. Campbell's La Mandolinata of Bellstedt was finessed, brilliant and accurate. It was fun to listen to them both.

In our brief session today we heard Mr. Campbell's wisdom on organizing daily practice, (a lengthy fundamentals session, a performing straight through session, and a projects session where detailed slow work finishes the day). Also stressed was critical listening and the importance of using a quality recording device, the role of air in matching the line, and the value of long-haul consistent preparation.

Some more points: finger pressure, vibrato intensity, volume matching the period of the music, a goal for each session, buzzing for pitch and quality, head movement, finding the "sweet spot" of each note, pacing, confidence (not being afraid to miss a note), massive multiple etude practice (Brandt, Top Tones, Bitsch, Bodet-Bach), etc.

Highlights: "Give yourself enough time to prepare to be your best. The most prepared win the jobs," the implication being that hard work can surpass lazy talent. But the keeper for me was his prodding to achieve a magical musical moment: "Speak to my heart!"

A Convincing Job

Looking back at the many recording projects we have had over the years, I remember a strong motivation that helped us get through a lot of "challenging assignments." There we sat staring at those trumpet folders bulging with charts, ready to be recorded within three hours. Required was accuracy, intonation, balance and all of that stuff. But more than survival in a mistake-free zone, we were expected to contribute style, flair, elan, or, as Jimmy Levine used to say, pizazz.

So what goes through your mind when the tapes are rolling, as they used to say, or when the stage grows instantly silent before the baton comes down? Back up a second. What's the goal, and why are we here? To get the notes, collect the check and go home, or something more?

Successful music performance is about being convincing to the audience. Before great trumpet playing can grab the listeners' attention, the player must first have a firm grasp of the music as well as the notes. Otherwise the pressure will trump the trumpeter. Although that sounds overly simple, it can be neglected. The antidote is remembering that our purpose is entertainment, musical story-telling and drama. Listeners expect all the right notes, but their emotions must be stirred as well. With this in mind, we have a greater chance of making music, and we become armed with our greatest weapon, confidence.

Our job as students of music performance, at whatever level, should be to so strengthen our concept of each piece, that we own it, and can't wait to project it to listeners. As in political debates, I'm reminded that passionate principled communication wins the day. It's not enough to lay out even the best of plans. People want to be completely convinced.

All-time Unfavorites

#1. Schubert's Half-Finished Symphony - because of its dinky themes that go nowhere and end as soon as they begin; also for the bad memories of countless student performances, all out of tune. (Not excluding some non-student performances). Sharps seem to be bad keys in which to try to play in tune in.

#2. First movement of Mozart's 40th. It lumbers, meanders, and just recalls bad memories of out of tune plundering and rushing students. Fortunately, trumpets were never required to add to the problems.

#3. Almost all of the variations of Enigma. Three are still in favor, but probably just two.

#4. The cello movement of Carnival of the Animals, along with all the rest of them.

#5. Mendelssohn Violin Concerto. All you get is B and E, and all of our B's are sharp, or else they are too flat from over-correcting. The E's are also free-for-alls. Besides, the soloist always takes it way too seriously.

#6. All works with narrators.

#7. Stravinsky's Circus Polka. (a waste of a good composer)

#8. Second movement of Brandenburg.

#9. First movement of Organ Symphony.

#10. Radetsky March with hand-clapping accompaniment. Just once, let's have a new year's concert without this piece. If absolutely necessary, prepare the audience not to drag. Percussion section should be instructed to shoot all offenders on sight.

Busy but Empty

I heard this short summary of frenetic holiday events, and thought that it could well describe much of our daily trumpet practicing: "busy but empty!" Just as an abundance of activities doesn't define Christmas, so too a frantic flurry of practicing doesn't produce great performances. We'd certainly hate to hear the assessment of our music-making that I heard years ago. "You are spraying the air with thousands of notes of highly questionable value, somewhat impressive, but not really usable. Nobody would buy them." I went home a bit deflated, but challenged at the same time.

The glitzy trimmings of Christmas celebrations can appeal outwardly, but only serve to hide the emptiness that often haunts us and even overwhelms us as soon as the last bowl game becomes history. How strange that the Lord Jesus Christ, the very center of the holiday, is often the most neglected Person in season and out. Maybe it's a stretch to link holiday festivities to poor practice habits, but musicians have been known to think in stranger ways, if at all.

Christmas is about God's intervening to claim those who were dead in trespasses and sins, completely unable to revive themselves. "For He hath made Him, who knew no sin, to be sin for us; that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him." (II Cor. 5:21) What an exchange! He has filled our emptiness with Himself. It is and always has been His work and not our own. This redemptive work of God has probably prompted our over-attention to all the externals in celebrating what He accomplished in the hearts of men.

The thought is pretty simple. Our misplaced attention on the outward has distracted us from seeing His Son, and the extent of His internal work, which lasts way beyond the lights, sales, and bowl games. My trumpet lesson back in the day was about learning to have a perspective on quality, depth, and a message to an audience. So while we can be quite busy, we are never empty, for "we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." (II Cor. 4:7)

Our Forgotten Weapon

Not that this weapon is totally forgotten, but it is often neglected and not fully developed. Every profession is defined by certain necessary skills and abilities. Athletes must be athletic. Mathematicians must figure. Pilots fly. Bowlers roll. Managers manage. Politicians must know how to be vague, etc. So what about musicians that are hard of hearing? Very strange.

Take trumpeters. What do we do? Blow, finger, play high, play loud, play soft (if we must), play fast, play slow (if we must), blow, and blow some more. We take a breather, and then do it all over again. No wonder they stick us in the rear of the orchestra! We must do something to break out of our penalty box. We need more than the above to be competitive. It's a long way from the back of the stage to the solo spot up front. And it's a long way from the marching band to the recording studio. What's missing? That something is the skill of listening. Granted, a certain level of talent goes a long way.

We think of those obvious skills that identify trumpet players: confidence in those aggressive dominating passages; fearlessly blasting those fiery jolts of decibels right by the defenseless string players; and spraying the air full of rapid-fire triplet pellets over the heads of greatly annoyed woodwind players! Ah, the sheer joy of it!

But alas, necessary as all of that is, (after all, it is when we do our thing and do it well, that the audience realizes why they came) - yet those are not enough to do effective battle on the stage. Our secret weapon is sensitive listening. Like high rising antennas, it monitors all neighboring activity. Listening controls decibel levels. It governs balance. It adjusts intonation. It is tuned in to sound quality. Like sight, it operates peripherally. It makes us alert to rhythm, without which, good ensemble is guesswork. And it lets us focus during practice by allowing us to accurately copy the good, eliminate the bad and the ugly.

Discerning ears will enable us to greatly strengthen our other weapons. Without good hearing skills, we are hampered and hamstrung. Listening is our silent weapon, but when it is developed and utilized regularly, it is heard by all.

The Big Question

That's a very good question! I'm so glad you asked that! I love it when students really want to know the answer, (without prompting). The question? "What is an audition committee looking for in these excerpts?" Where do we start?

Preparing to compete for a high-paying job obviously requires a lot more attention than just running through a short list of popular excerpts for a class assignment. Call it getting ready for zero mistake tolerance in front of a very discerning audience. When students come to the point of being serious about preparing for job competition, not just getting through it for experience sake, but with the expectation of nailing it, then reality is at the door. It may be that reality is facing up to the fact that another field would be a better and wiser pursuit. Often however, the question says, I think I can do this. Show me what still needs to be polished. I'm ready to work. Let's go for it!

The result is often amazing. The ears begin to open and practicing becomes much more focused. The grid of competing tends to quickly filter out student-like mistakes. Rhythm, intonation, and dynamics begin to become our weapons rather than nagging duties on a dry checklist. We simply must have these skills, and it becomes a welcome challenge to perfect them.

Running the risk of over-simplifying the needs of good audition prep, I will just pass on advice shared by some who have been very successful at this. Before the performing must come the discipline. You need your tuner, your metronome, and your decibel meter. Put them on the stand and obey them. Over ninety percent of your work can be prepared with the diligent use of these devices, especially the first two. They will insist that you perfect those basics of the music. The machines will hone rhythm, dynamics and intonation which are musicians' tools. And what good is a musician without his tools?!