An Outside Job

There is something about your trumpet and the outdoors. Our practice is usually cranked out throughout the year in the same room with the same acoustics and the same scenery. Much of our music-making is an inside job played next to walls and under ceilings - with the exception of marching band which doesn't count. Now that summer is here, we have the chance to change the scenery. As soon as the cicadas terminate themselves, it will be safe again to go outdoors and inhale.

It was 1957, my second year of playing the trumpet back in New Jersey in the fourth grade. I remember stepping out in the back yard that spring, and blasting some jazz licks at the nearby track team as loud as I could. I stopped a few runners at first, but since I didn't know when enough was enough, they soon ignored me. It didn't matter. I was having great fun. Playing outside was cool.

My teacher might have planted that thought when he casually suggested I should get out in a boat, try all the mouthpieces I had, and finally decide on just one. I think he was impatient with my indecision and hoped I would be less distracted out on some lake. I took it to mean, "get away from everything and make some music on that thing!" It is interesting, the comments and suggestions that can stick even at an early age.

In the summer after sixth grade it was 1961 and I was a camper at Brevard. It was called the Transylvania Music Camp in those days. The Blue Ridge mountains, dozens of streams and trees provided ideal surroundings for making music. I still remember all the lessons and repertoire we did on those benches next to the stream.

Interlochen in 1965 also was perfect for a boy and his trumpet. The lake and the pine trees were always agreeable listeners. Those trees heard us playing our hearts out every day. What a great place to perform Pines of Rome for the first time. Mysterious Mountain, Mahler 1st, Salome's Dance, Franck's d minor, and Firebird were all brand new to us. The beautiful outdoor scenery was an enormous aid in learning. What a scenario for introducing great music!

The 1968 summer was Tanglewood. It doesn't get much better. A lot of practice happened on that folding chair in the midst of a huge field. Working on a tan while practicing and hearing great concerts every week! Life was more than good! Ghitalla and Voisin gave us enough ammo to keep us fired up for all of those long dreary months in cold indoor Rochester. I knew that my memory would be my teacher for many months.

For the summer of 1970 the venue was Blossom. We endured Kent to get to Blossom on the weekends. It was worth the wait. There is nothing like the sound of the Cleveland brass ringing into the pavilion. You could almost see the sounds penetrating out to reach the huge audience. Woods, and wood was everywhere, inside and out. (Somebody had those acoustics figured out.) Bernstein conducted Mahler's 2nd that summer. Mahler is always Mahler, but he can be even better outside. The Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini somehow isn't quite as effective unless performed under the stars.

Summer festivals are getting started even now, but all too soon they will come to a close. It will be fall, football, politics and then back indoors for a long winter's nap. In the meantime, enjoy your summer. Don't leave your trumpet at home.

Great Musicians Produced Here

Once again I entered the ancient stone Fine Arts building on Michigan Avenue in downtown Chicago. I found my way to his studio, but he wasn't there. But what did I expect? His final lesson had been taught years ago, and the applause of his last performance, like the artist himself, has long since died. Someone else now occupies that simple room where thousands of students of all instruments could count on being encouraged and inspired. Improvement always happened in that studio. If only those elderly walls could speak! They had observed every lesson while the master of producing music was wisely and patiently improving the musical world, one student at a time.

Standing outside, I could see that the old building has continued to decay, but at a much slower pace than that of its passersby. The old-fashioned manually-operated elevator is still there, functioning just as it has for the last eighty years. Time seems to have stood still even though the paint continues to peal and the windows are even more unwashed. The huge murals from another world are still fading while the engraved musical instruments continue to accent the hallway decor. In spite of its advancing age and disrepair, the old building was turning out great musicians year after year and functioning quite well. Why fix it? In fact, antiquity was part of the mystique of the place.

In the lobby however, I noticed a small posted announcement. The building was about to be closed temporarily for electrical renovations. I suppose even buildings, like musicians, require some surgery, new wiring, updated fixtures, overhauling of old parts, etc. prior to the inevitable wrecking ball. So the excellence continues as long as possible until eventually, the torch is passed, and others are chosen to carry on the work.

Fondly remembering the studio and the musical legacy of Arnold Jacobs and his investment into the lives of so many.

Simple Idea for a Quick Fix

Looking for something to latch onto during the June practice slump season? This won't take long, shouldn't be tiring, and could be your instant quality adjustment. In fact, that is the goal: first notes will sound great. Never mind the whole page, just pay attention to those first sounds. We're not going to sprint, but only practice bolting off the starting block in grand fashion every time.

Most of us are pleased if we can produce our best quality notes soon after we begin. But audition committees are not so forgiving. We will be expected to impress listeners with great quality instantly. Think of the horses at the start of the Kentucky Derby. That's how we are to produce - highly competitive from the get-go.

Begin by piling up a bunch of etudes, solos and excerpts on the stand. We're going to go from the top of as many as possible. Stop right away, and play no more than about three seconds max. No matter what the piece, the agenda is getting off to a great start. It will be very tempting to abandon this quick-stop plan as we are so accustomed to playing till we drop. For now though, we want to learn to listen for instant focus of tone, and develop the discipline to stop and make necessary corrections immediately.

Imagine two loud irritating obnoxious buzzers, just like you hear at basketball games at every time-out. Buzzer #1 will instantly buzz if your first note is stuffy, blipped, fuzzed, split, or unfocused to any degree. Buzzer #2 goes off if you continue playing, or as soon as your quality disintegrates. You will obviously be doing great if you can avoid activating them. Poor quality triggers the buzzers. Got it? The only thing worse than those buzzers are those dreaded three words, "Thank you. Next." So that's what this is about - staving off the hook.

So give it a try. Orchestra committees are looking for a few good notes. Bet you can't play just one!

The Best Teacher in the House

The sign on your trumpet studio door proudly announces "The Best Teacher in the House!" All who enter anxiously look around to see which of the Monster Mentors of the Trumpet World might be visiting for the day, for the word has gotten out: this is MMTW day. But no, no one will be here today except for you and your Charlier book, and of course your imagination.

If only we had the power to transport any of the country's top trumpet gurus into our studio to sit right next to us while we practice! You know, those who are famous for turning top talents into high-salaried musical trumpet machines? Man, then we would really improve! Chances are, however, that much of the instruction we would hear is already in our practice room. And a lot of their expensive advice is already staring us in the face from our music stand, and charging us nothing.

Did you ever think of the printed page as your teacher? Look at all of those markings put there by the composer! They do more than just make the page look attractive and busy. Consider them the guiding words of your teacher. (They also provide the conductor his rehearsal agenda, a way to take up two and a half hours of your time. Imagine if the orchestra did everything on the page. Can you see the look on his face? That used to happen in Cleveland with visiting maestros.) The printed page cannot be ignored because it is directing you on your path to big bucks.

Audition requirements begin with some of these basics: control of volume, tempo and articulation. You can't advance without them. Then there are the musical demands which dictate style, emotion, sonority and musicality. All of these are printed boldly before your eyes. At this point the future finalists begin to emerge. Now here's the clean little secret: play the ink, and you'll get the job. If you disregard the street signs you go home. Don't even think about stopping at GO, or collecting anything.

Today we studied Charlier #17. What a nice piece of music - full of advice, instructions and just lots of neat things to do, all with a wonderful musical end in mind. I'm thinking: students really don't need a teacher. Go home, do what the page says, then come back and perform. Most advice only stresses what's on the page already. Students should put the faculty out of business. We should spend less time policing traffic violators, and more time coaching performers.

That sign over your studio should actually read: "The Best Teacher is on Your Stand", the printed page. Obey your teacher.

Perfect Artistry

Who says artistry is not perfection? And who says perfection is not artistry? Is not the total package PERFECT ARTISTRY?

Meet STUDENT #1 who is developing into a very fine trumpet player. Secure attacks are becoming reliable, sound is often great, rhythm and accuracy are more dependable, and the page-to-brain skill is improving weekly. This could be a diamond in the making - a potential semi-finalist! Even with ever-improving mechanical skills, this player still needs something else however. After all, there is no pay for only reaching the semi-finals. In addition to his technical arsenal, STUDENT #1 must now add artistry, drama, exceptional sound, and presence - elements that are less tangible but vital for success.

Now consider STUDENT #2 who is eager, energetic, and innately musical. Unfortunately this player has not yet learned to harness all that talent for his own benefit. He is too impatient for painstaking detailed practice. He'd rather be performing something. His MO is "Just Do It". His good musical instincts give him a decided advantage over others, but STUDENT #2 has much work yet to do. He definitely needs to hang with STUDENT #1. Lots of serious duet sessions would be a great idea for both.

Most of us are a mix of the above. We vacillate between thinking and playing. When pressured for technical accuracy, we tend to freak and any artistry flies out the window. On the other hand, when asked to jump into the music with abandon, we often forsake discipline in order to let it all hang out. Both result in a sloppy and quick crash 'n' burn. "Stop the tape! Cut!"

Two mindsets need to coexist - perfection and artistry. They are not exclusive to each other, but complementary, and must be practiced regularly. Why? Say the conductor taps his baton, peers back at the trumpets and suggests we give more attention to some detail. We readily comply because we have been trained to do details. Then he calls for more style or more of something difficult to put in words. We quickly sense his intent and respond because we are accustomed to thinking outside the details box. There's no panicking, just producing.

A final thought on this. The markings on the page seem to fall into two groups - the tangible and the intangible, or the objective and the subjective. We have the tangibles: fortes, pianos, accents, tempo markings, etc. And then there are those intangibles: fieramente, espressivo, deciso, cantabile. Both groups of demands are required for first-rate music-making. Now is the best time to begin extending our comfort zones to daily include PERFECTION and ARTISTRY.

Three Stands

Furnishing your practice room? Suggestion: buy three heavy duty music stands with extensions for plenty of music, as well as three back-friendly chairs or else one very sturdy chair with wheels so that you can scoot from one stand to the next. Each stand must be visited daily. That's the point.

Why the three stands? Well, there's a problem that always identifies itself by the end of every day. And that is guilt over not managing to cover all of the items on our plate (our stand). There are those few who are so organized that everything from Schlossberg to Brandenburg gets rehearsed on a daily basis. But for the rest of us, there is that temptation to camp out on only a few items to the detriment of other urgent needs. The result is that by day's end many facets of playing have been neglected. This guilt trip can continue for long periods of time, often years. So the goal is to organize the practice room so that all gets practiced. A balanced plan of attack is the idea. Try the following in no rigid order:

On Stand #1 we have solos galore, some ready to sizzle in front, with the rest simmering on the back burner. Stack as many as the stand will hold. If you get bored, go the next piece. Bracket all of the nasty spots, organize your work, and avoid constant run-throughs. With multiple solos all within reach, it helps to keep works from getting stale or lost. It also keeps you constantly ready for a recital. Take your break.

On Stand #2 we have a bunch of etude books. Muscle-building endurance must be part of our agenda. Wise conditioning will build stamina for the shows. From this perch you will also include scales, arpeggios, flexibilities and all that Arban demands. Choose varied styles of studies and enjoy a similar but different menu each day. Take another break.

On Stand #3 we have tons o' excerpts. For legit players, this must have its place in daily prep. Crammers never make finals. On the other hand, Eddy Excerpt can't play anything except the same excerpts he always does, and he can't sight-read! Balance is the key. There are probably at least twenty-five must-have pieces required for every audition. Each must always be bubbling on the front burner. From this stand you will prepare and audition daily.

If your practice room is large enough you can make a good case for including several more chairs and stands. How about a Transposition Stand? (or dentist chair!) The Warm Up Stand could have only magazines, no music, and of course include a full view of the TV. This is surprisingly common for many who tend to over-focus. They welcome freedom from the printed page and thrive on distractions while starting the day's playing. Noodle now, concentrate later. How about a Sight-Reading Stand! We always forget about that vital skill.

Whatever your pleasure, the need is learning to cover all responsibilities responsibly. Plan for it.

In One Day

On a single day, at one point in time, a lifetime of schooling comes to a sudden halt. Just like that, it is finished. Assignments, lessons, and exams are all completed. Juries, finals, and recitals are done and gone, and the coveted degree has been earned and received. The rented apartment room that was for so long a cozy home now lies empty, somewhat cleaned and ready for the next talented sojourner.

So we close the book on all that comes and goes with classrooms: the studying, the all-nighters, the activities, the great concerts, and all those cherished memories that go with us forever. They are now already part of the past, still painfully vivid and fresh.

We thought this day would never really arrive. Almost 23 years ago life was not anything about closure. Today was way out there in the future somewhere, even a bit burdensome, as college costs were growing ever larger. But the Lord provided as we had always heard. The money found its way to the school one way or another, and it was absolutely worth it all.

The final drive home today was a loud one, not just for the down pouring rain outside, but for the internal echoes that will not be silent of all the great music, people and close friends of the last four years. Graduation has come and gone.

The page turns quickly however, for in just five days the scene changes once more. Home which for so long was Cincinnati, and then Cleveland, will now become Atlanta. The classroom will be replaced by the concert stage, as that's where it was headed after all. It will be life in a much different lane, and the first page in a completely new book. But adjusting will happen as it always does.

We look back with enormous gratefulness at God's hand of blessings at every turn. Certainly a favorite Bible verse has proven true. "For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)

Welcome home, Wes. Well done! May God continue to direct you all the days of your life.

"I know that. Why don't I do it?'

There we are, coasting along just fine. Our playing is good, and so is life. Suddenly a few nasty passages begin to become troublesome and demand our attention. Simply ignoring them has failed to produce any improvement, and muscling our way through them isn't working. Neither does repetition - something about expecting a different result without ever changing anything? Those gnarly intervals seem set on remaining obstinate and refuse to be conquered. What is a trumpeter to do (besides yelling and throwing things)?

Here are a few suggestions that always yield results in the shortest amount of time. They are not new or amazing over-night cures, just remedies that work, but require consistent attention. In addition to mind-over-matter brute strength, which does have its place, you can get used to making these procedures a regular part of your routine as well.

The last thing we usually try is PLAYING VERY SLOWLY, I mean really slow. Try half tempo, so that you can totally focus and hear each note. Usually the tongue has become brutal, sluggy or pecky. Over-articulating is often the problem. We resort to using a sledge hammer to kill ants. The sledge hammer has its place but should not be over-used. When playing painstakingly slow, we immediately notice the lack of quality and center of the notes.

That leads to the next item: CLEANING UP THE SOUND. Sound quality generally suffers with speed. Play each note slowly with your best tone. No junk notes allowed. You ought to be able to sound just as good as your heros, if you play slow enough. So we've got slow accuracy, and now greatly improved sound.

Next is mouthpiece BUZZING. This perhaps should be the first resort. Insist on perfect intonation with your buzz. Very few seem to avoid modulating when buzzing even the shortest passage. Sit beside the piano while you plunk out the notes, checking your buzz for clarity and exact pitch. So now we have slow motion, high quality and a nice-sounding buzz.

Is anyone still there? Another item we all hate, but it works - and that is SINGING. Whether you have a good singing voice or not, it doesn't matter. Sing the passage in tune and in rhythm. As this improves, it will help your concentration when you return to actual playing. We easily get careless about slotting notes. Hence, pitch, quality and volume are hampered.

In short, if you can't play it, SLOW IT DOWN, listen for SOUND QUALITY, BUZZ IT, and SING IT. Take your time. Impatience is the root of the problem.

Never Good Enough

Double tonguing is one of those techniques that always seems to need attention. No one ever graduates from DT-101, as it has a way of appearing on each year's curriculum and in each week's concerts no matter how long we've been in or out of school. So we might as well get good and used to generous doses of that boring but so necessary section in the Arban book - pages 175-190.

Whoever heard of having to begin a note with a K, trying to articulate from the middle of the tongue, half way back to the throat? No wonder our double-tonguing is so easily handicapped. But it must be done. The trick is to mimic the clarity of the T so that no one can hear the difference, not even you. Painstaking slow practice does work, and that just might be the fastest route to mastery. Ironic that speed is accomplished slowly. Sadly, few have the patience. After all, there is absolutely no joy in trying to pronounce a T sound with a K at a snail's pace. And who has the time?

I remember a colleague at Eastman who was so exasperated with his spastic DTs, that he went on a K-only binge! Absolutely nothing but K attacks. His goal was a massive tongue-strengthening program. Heroic intentions, but he quickly developed a severe stuttering malady and had to spend two weeks in the infirmary.

There is almost no trumpet rep that ignores double-tonguing. First of all there is Ravel's G Major Concerto for Double and Triple-Tongued Trumpet with piano accompaniment (as I call it), the humility check. Then there are those particularly awkward passages in which the 16ths start with the K, or weaker note, like the solo in Capriccio Italien.

Equally hard is having to go from double to triple instantly. Example: Pines of Rome. As soon as you turn the first page, having executed high speed multiple tonguing with flying colors, Respighi's mighty tongue-twister challenges the trumpet player's self-control, often rendering him flummoxed and perplexed. Ottorino seemed to say, "You think you're good? Try this!" For me, he usually had the last laugh.

The list is endless: solos, orchestral works, chamber music, brass quintets, bugle calls, etudes, etc. Multiple tonguing is inescapable, and likely yours needs improvement. It is one of those "unmusical" items that tends to get neglected because it isn't fun to practice. Avoiding the unfun stuff soon makes the fun stuff not so fun. Learn to master the boring stuff, so that your playing isn't.

Three Weapons

It is amazing how effectively these three weapons can dwarf those pesky obstacles of boring playing, stifled air flow, and fear. Those many musical markings that fill the score provide the way of escape from performances that are flat, lifeless and which fail to resonate with the audience. The air stream that carries the music must be energized and unstoppable, never losing intensity. Finally, the power source which drives the whole process is confidence.

So problem #1: labored, boring, uninspired, trumpet-playing. Remedy: Observe every musical detail printed by the composer (who never intended any of the above problems to be performance practices!) Ingrain those details without the trumpet. Sing, buzz, fingers only, but at all costs, absorb the music intended. Thoroughly convince yourself of the composer's intent before plowing into the piece.

Problem #2: quick fatigue and burn out. Reason: obstructed air being forcing into a tiny aperture. Remedy: Find the point(s) of constriction and free up the flow of air. Usually this happens somewhere just behind the mouthpiece. Sing, buzz, blow w/o the horn. Copy that ease when attaching the trumpet. Insist on minimal fatigue and easy release of air from gut to bell to audience. Eliminate sips of shallow air intake. That is always the first sign of constriction. Learn to sound great while working less.

Problem #3: timid, unconvincing playing. Remedy: Develop an attitude of confidence. Confidence in what? Confidence in one's ability to execute all details of the musical message with the greatest of efficiency. Call it a highly skilled killer instinct! Trumpet playing is all about confidence. Without it we are in the wrong business. Confidence only comes when we have a solid concept of the music. That's half the battle. The air then carries that message quickly to the listeners with no loss of energy. Much attention is required to transfer this inspiration to the audience without wipe out.

So the music, the air, and one's confidence are interrelated. Breakdown of any one can quickly result in the appearance of those unwanted pesky colleagues - Mr. Boring, Mr. Stuffy, and Mr. Timid. These guys tend to return as much as you allow them. To keep them at bay, stay motivated by continually absorbing great music, keeping your air ways open, and practicing confidence. Mr. Music, Mr. Air, and Mr. Confidence will always deal the death blow to these enemies.

Brandenburg, anyone?

Thought this trumpet player's first performance of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 2. would be of interest. Julian Kaplan is a student of Mark Clodfelter at UK in Lexington, and is playing with the Lexington Bach Consort. Here is some very nice playing on one of the most difficult pieces most students never tackle - so good, he gets applause after the first movement. The third was also well done. The editing meister would love your playing - very little for him to do! Bravo, Julian!

Already famous in Europe!

Meet Bob Sullivan, already getting the job well done on tour with the CSO. He will begin officially next fall, but will be playing principal as scheduling allows until then. Janelle Gelfand catches Bob in between concerts in a brief article in today's Enquirer.

By the way, you can hear the orchestra play Mozart 39 and Rite of Spring on their concerts after they return next week. Be there!

Multi-tasking the Warm up

Looking for something more challenging to add to your warm up? Alright, how about ingraining some finger memory into your opening routine? Pick a key, any key. That's your key for the day for each of the following items, all two octaves: SCALES (major, minor - three forms, chromatic, whole-tone), ARPEGGIOS (major, minor, diminished 7th, augmented).

Requirement #1 - fingering secure at all speeds
Requirement #2 - play evenly with good tone, tongued and slurred
Requirement #3 - don't look or sound fatigued

Tomorrow you get to pick another key! For those not digitally challenged, try leap-frogging scales in thirds. Same idea for the arpeggios. Pause to rest. It's supposed to be a warm UP.

What a Way to Start!

It's been a whole week now, and I'm still hearing Michael Sachs making those flawless entrances. After his recital, masterclass work, and Q & A at the OH ITG, he continued to play gorgeously on Charlier #2 and #6 as he play-tested several new Miles B flat trumpets. Every beginning all afternoon was clean and secure. Although he was talking and occupied with leading the class, that did not distract him from doing what he is paid to do every time he picks up the horn - execute music.

Alright guys, this quarter we'll be raising the entrance bar! You all heard him do it. Now go and do likewise. You don't need spoon-feeding and brain-surgery mindsets. Let's just do it. Figure it out. I remember asking Mr. Vacchiano to give me a detailed description on how to make an attack. I even had pencil and paper ready. He looked a bit irritated and said, "Well, the tongue and the air meet at the same time." That was it! I think he sensed that was all the detail I could absorb.

As simple as a perfectly executed attack may sound, it certainly requires a ton of diligent practice, obviously. One could make a game of trying to refine the entrance process for quality and consistency. Pick it up and play the first note of your piece, hundreds, thousands of times. Good news: you can't get tired playing only the first note. Hey, if it's just the air joining the tongue, it can't be that hard. Get started!

Michael Sachs at OHIO ITG

Graciously hosted by Charles Pagnard, Principal Trumpet with the Dayton Philharmonic, the Ohio chapter of the ITG today showcased trumpet ensembles from Wright State, Cedarville University, Miami, Capitol, Bowling Green, Ohio State, and the University of Cincinnati's College-Conservatory. With all the music available for just trumpets, Trumpet Ensemble Class could easily stand on its own as a legitimate course in every college music program.

A highlight was a mini concert by the Dayton Philharmonic trumpet section which presented unique arrangements of their season's repertoire. Professor Alan Siebert was secure and musical in his performance of Eastwind Variations from his solo CD. Ashley Hall beautifully played her flugel on a moving sacred medley from her new CD. And the Carillon Brass gave an energetic presentation of selections after lunch that denied naps to anyone present. Cincinnati's Assistant Professor of Jazz Studies (Piano and Trumpet), Kim Pensyl, led a session on improvisation.

Several masterclass sessions were held that featured some of Ohio's brightest young trumpet talents. Their mastery and musicianship was impressive as well as their ability to quickly implement suggestions offered.

The main draw was Mr. Michael Sachs, Principal Trumpet with the Cleveland Orchestra. Condensing two sessions into one, he spoke and demonstrated for almost two hours, answered questions, and without warm up launched into a recital performance of Torelli and Haydn. Mahler 5th, Pictures, Pines, Mahler 3rd on a posthorn, whatever he played, that was how it's supposed to sound. Each piece was brilliantly played with warm, rich tone, and the cool, well-calculated precision of a first-class artist. You gotta love his approach.

Mr. Sachs is as gifted in articulating how to play as he is in just doing it. We were treated to a generous sharing of the vital details of his approach to warm up, practice and playing. It was great to listen and learn. He could have continued all weekend, and if so, fine. That is why we were there, and he didn't disappoint.

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!