Interview: Gene Scholtens, Broadway woodwind doubler

Gene Scholtens

One of the awesome things that has happened since I started my list of reed books in musicals is that great people from all over the world have contacted me to contribute to the list. These contacts are always a pleasure for me personally, and they serve to make the list more accurate, complete, and useful for others.

I have a number of regular contributors who contact me periodically with updates, and until recently the record was nearly twenty individual contributions from one much-appreciated person.

That record was shattered when, a few months ago, I started getting emails from Gene Scholtens. The first email was a small correction for one show, but then the floodgates opened. Gene revealed that he has been playing woodwinds in Broadway orchestras for over thirty years, and has been keeping his own very comprehensive log of who plays which doubles on which shows. Gene’s contributions to my list at the time of this writing number a staggering 72.

As it turns out, Gene is not only a talented musician and a prolific record keeper, but also a very nice, humble, and generous guy, and graciously agreed to talk to me on the phone about his career. Here’s what he had to say. [Note: edited for length.]

 

BP: How many shows have you played?

 

GS: I’ve been playing on Broadway since roughly 1980. The last count was somewhere in the neighborhood of 90-95 shows.

 

Wow.

 

Most of my career, quote-unquote, has been as a sub. I’ve had what they call “my own” show, but most of the time I’ve been subbing. That’s partly because I always had a full-time job at Baruch College. I was in administration in the technical part of the admissions department. I left that two, almost three years ago now. Decided enough is enough. I’m semi-retired, but still playing.

 

What shows are you playing now?

 

I’m subbing on Sister Act, Wicked, Anything Goes, and How to Succeed in Business. I’m also part of Chicago, but haven’t done it in a while.

 

On average, how many shows do you play in a week?

 

If you counted the whole year, three a week. This week I’m doing eight, last week I did two. Sometimes it’s a whole week of Sister Act, like this week. Sometimes it’s four different shows in a week. It’s always different.

 

How did you get started on woodwind doubling?

 

It goes way, way back to when I was a kid. I started on clarinet when I was in fourth grade or something. A year and a half or two years later the school bought a new bassoon. It was a newer, shinier instrument—that was what I wanted to play. They offered it to somebody else, but I talked him into turning it down so they would give it to me.

I’m a bassoonist, mostly. That’s the one I studied in college. Everything else I did study a little bit, but bassoon was a major and everything else was definitely secondary. But I’m pretty good on all or most of them. I don’t like to hear myself play flute much, but they still pay me for it. I call myself a reed five player, because I’m always playing bassoon, baritone sax, and bass clarinet, and rarely have to play any exposed clarinet or flute.

 

How did you end up where you are today?

 

Well, I went to college, and graduated with a masters in bassoon in 1972 from the Univeristy of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana. And when I graduated I didn’t have any place to go or anything to do. But then I got a call from a friend with a lead on the college job. Basically I got hired over the phone to do the job, and so I moved to New York, the place I wanted to be anyway as a musician. I had a chance to come to New York with a job, and I had the job for thirty, almost forty years.Ā And I started playing in New York. Originally I was mostly a bassoon player, playing in orchestras and chamber groups. Whatever paid at the time. And I always had liked playing shows.

I also liked doubling. I always said the reason I’m a doubler is because I have a very short attention span. I don’t like to play any instrument too long. Plus, it seemed to me there was more work for me as a doubler than as a straight bassoon player.

I was in New York for maybe seven years before I really got going on Broadway. Mostly just I don’t promote myself. I guess I didn’t know how to go about it, so I just kind of sat around. My first big break was on the original production of A Chorus Line. A friend of mine knew the assistant conductor there, and we both went down and sat in the pit for the fun of it, and watched a real Broadway orchestra play. I was introduced to Marvin Roth, the bassoonist. And maybe six months later I got a call from him, and he said, “Gene, I need you on Chorus Line. My sub died.” And I said, “Great!” I played the show for two weeks and decided I liked it, and liked all the guys, and they liked me. And I did a good job, I guess. And all of a sudden people started calling me. And I’ve been doing that for over thirty years.

 

What’s the worst part of playing on Broadway?

 

The worst part playing reed 5 is carrying the instruments. Showing up with a baritone saxophone, a bass clarinet, and a bassoon. And flute and piccolo and a clarinet or whatever the show takes. And the stands, too. You play one show or two shows, and you get on the subway with all those horns. It’s not much fun. I tell people I play the show for free—they pay me to carry all this stuff.

 

You probably get paid cartage, though, right?

 

No, no cartage for a sub. If you’re a regular, they will pay you cartage for a baritone saxophone for the rehearsal period. That’s it. And also if you’re playing two saxophones on a show, sometimes you play baritone and tenor, for instance, you only get paid for one saxophone. The other one is a freebie. It’s a strange thing in the union rules.

 

What’s the best part of playing on Broadway?

 

The best part is, at least for a sub, is playing different shows, and having lots of different people to be around. If you have your own show, probably the worst part of the show is boredom—playing the same show over and over and over. Never getting a chance to play anything else. Being around the same people. Everyone knows horror stories about sitting in the middle of two people who hate each other. And the longer the show runs, the more chance there’s going to be some bad blood. In fact, it’s almost like a given, the shows with the great people and the great attitudes and the great music are always the shows that close. The ones that are torture are the ones that last forever. Its not true, but sometimes it seems that way.

 

How is being a Broadway musician now different from when you started?

 

The people are much younger now. When I first started it seemed like everybody was older than me, in their fifties or sixties. Now I’m definitely one of the older people.

When I first started it was tough for musicians to take time off. The union has made many, many advances in that. In the contract you’re entitled to take off 50% of the shows if you want to, and send in a sub.

The money is a lot better than it was. The shows are a lot harder in general—there’s a lot more music. It used to be there was a song, then a book scene, then a song, then a book scene. Now a lot of shows have music for 90% of the show, so there’s a lot less downtime than there used to be.

There’s a lot more pressure. When I first started subbing, you would go in and watch a show, sit next to the guy you were subbing for and watch the conductor, and then play that night. You did as well as you could and everyone knew it wouldn’t be perfect.Ā Now they give you a copy of the book to take home and practice for a month. Sometimes, they evenĀ give you DVDs of the conductor you can play along with. It makes it a lot easier to play a good show the first time, but the expectations of perfection are much higher.

 

Are there any characteristics, abilities, or habits that you should cultivate if you want to play on Broadway?

 

Well, I think the most important thing, and the thing I’m the least good at, is networking. A lot of it is a social thing. You have to be able to make people laugh, tell stories, get along, be a fun guy to go out with. Or girl—It’s not only men.

You have to be disciplined. You’ve got to go in and play eight shows a week, or at least most of them. And you’ve got to play the same thing over and over, the same way every time. You can’t ad lib. You can’t experiment.

You’ve got to know how to follow the conductor. Musicians come from all different directions. Some of us are classically trained, some are not. Some come from jazz or rock. For some of those guys, learning to really follow the conductor well is difficult.

 

Knowing what you do now, is there anything you would go back and do differently if you could?

 

I guess I would try to be more self-promoting. Almost every time I’ve said, let me call this guy and say “Hi, are you looking for anybody?” it has paid off. Know the contractor, call him every once in a while, and schmooze.

If I were new in town, I would call the people who are doing the shows, and say, “Can I take a couple lessons from you? I’m new in town, and I’d like to learn about the business. I’d like to hang out and talk to you, and see what suggestions you can make.”

 

Do you have any favorite woodwind-playing tips?

 

I’ve started using Legere reeds. Have you seen those?

 

Yes.

 

In the last couple of months I’ve started to use them a lot. Makes things a little easier if you’ve got five or six horns to worry about. And within the last couple of years I finally decided it’s smarter to buy bassoon reeds and not to make them. I made my own reeds all these years, and struggled through it. Wasted all that time and money. Ā I finally found a guy that makes reeds that I can live with, and I’m much happier.

 

Thank you so much for taking the time to talk with me.

 

Nice talking with you.

 

 

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    Teaching multiple instruments: IDRS 2016 presentation

    Lecture notes from a presentation on teaching multiple instruments, especially double reeds in a higher education setting, from the 2016 International Double Reed Society conference.

    Downloadable version

    Teaching Multiple Instruments

    Dr. Bret Pimentel, Delta State University

    IDRS Conference 2016, Columbus, Georgia

    More and more university music teaching positions require wearing several hats, sometimes including teaching multiple instruments. (Oboe plus bassoon is an especially common combination, even though it’s unusual for musicians to play both well.) Teaching multiple instruments is also a potentially valuable skill for instructors at lesson studios in private music schools or in music stores, for instructors in middle or high school band and orchestra programs, and for those establishing private studios from their homes.

    Getting hired

    • In many multiple-instrument hiring situations, the expectation is proficiency on one instrument and willingness to fake your way teaching the other(s). Any actual training or background on secondary instruments immediately sets you apart. Strongly consider taking at least a few lessons on a secondary instrument—this shows seriousness about the multiple-instrument thing, even if it doesn’t make you a virtuoso.
    • Having access to books (or websites) isn’t a substitute. Neither is ā€œknowing a guyā€ who you can ā€œask questions.ā€ Though those are usable resources, they aren’t convincing to hiring committees because they don’t demonstrate any actual effort prior to submitting your application.
    • Be honest but positive with yourself and with hiring committees about your ability and/or enthusiasm for teaching multiple instruments. For example:
      • ā€œI play oboe professionally, but I am deeply committed to both instruments and am working to improve my bassoon skills. I have some experience playing bassoon in semi-professional settings.ā€
      • ā€œBassoon is really my thing, but I took oboe lessons for a couple of summers during graduate school and am enthusiastic about teaching the double reeds.ā€
      • ā€œTeaching bassoon would be a brand new challenge for me, and one that I would take seriously.ā€

    Lesson time

    • You won’t have to fix all of your students’ technical issues on day one, but you will have to assign repertoire and studies right away. Spend some serious time browsing other teachers’ syllabi and ā€œsuggested repertoireā€ lists (many are available online!), and start compiling some lists of your own. Are you ready to recommend, for example:
      • some remedial etudes and an easy solo for an incoming freshman?
      • an hour’s worth of varied and challenging-but-doable repertoire for a junior entering a competition?
      • a solid program for a senior recital that can double as serious graduate school audition repertoire?
      • Baroque pieces?
      • pieces with extended techniques?
      • chamber pieces with strings?
      • concerti with concert band?
      • and so on…
    • You will, of course, have to address technical issues at some point. Be advised that your students know when you’re making things up. But it can be a great experience to spend a few minutes researching a question together, or calling a colleague or mentor on speakerphone for advice.
    • Both you and the student can learn a lot when you dare to get an instrument out and try some things together. Your students know it’s not your main instrument, and appreciate seeing you step out of your comfort zone. Consider giving them a chance to teach you something—teaching is a skill they should be learning anyway.

    Managing resources

    • Institutional resources like money, time, and space are often allocated per faculty member, not per instrument taught. As appropriate, consider making a case for the following (for example):
      • Funding for your oboe studio plus funding for your bassoon studio. Per-faculty funding can be unfair to students, who won’t benefit from purchases made for the other studio.
      • Additional prep time built into your schedule to accommodate the logistics of multiple studios.
      • Studio space and storage space suitable for several studios’ worth of instruments, sheet music, reed desks, etc.
    • If you are a single-instrumentalist teaching multiple instruments, consider forming partnerships with others in the same situation. Visit each other’s schools once or twice a year, maybe more often if the travel is short. Be each other’s consultants, guest artists, masterclass teachers, reed sources.
    • Consider which aspects of running a studio you can streamline to accommodate multiple instruments without multiplying your workload. For example:
      • Use your university’s LMS features, perhaps to combine all of your applied students into one ā€œcourse,ā€ instead of having to communicate separately to each instrument group.
      • If permissible and appropriate, rotate or combine things like studio classes and chamber group coachings.
      • Repurpose, say, oboe sight-reading excerpts as saxophone excerpts, or vice-versa. (Doesn’t work as well between oboe and bassoon. Clefs, you know.)

    Staying sharp (figuratively)

    • Join an organization. Attend conferences. Read the journal. Summer camps (that welcome or at least tolerate adults) are great, too.
      • For oboe-plus-bassoon teachers, IDRS is perfect! Be sure to attend recitals and masterclasses for your secondary teaching instrument, and familiarize yourself with equipment and repertoire options in the vendor exhibits.
    • Build your library of recordings, pedagogical materials, and experiences related to your secondary teaching instrument(s). If it suits your goals, budget toward buying or upgrading your secondary instruments and investing in your further education.
    • Be smart, informed, and conscientious about learning what pedagogical techniques, ideas, etc. you can share between instruments and what you can’t.
    • If you are at even an intermediate performing level on a secondary instrument, strongly consider playing it on your faculty recitals (one short, easy piece?). Keep yourself challenged to improve.
    • Shameless plug: Keep an eye on bretpimentel.com for blog posts and other resources related to playing and teaching multiple woodwind instruments, and the fundamental techniques that those instruments share.

    Long-term career planning

    • Is teaching multiple instruments an end goal for you, or just a way to get that first teaching job that will be a stepping stone to something that fits you better? Hint: either is okay, and it’s also okay to change your mind.
    • If you need to meet certain expectations for tenure, annual reviews, etc., be smart about how your multiple-instrument duties affect this. For example:
      • If leadership in professional organizations is important, you may need to attend your major instrument’s conference every year, instead of bouncing from conference to conference.
      • Understand student recruitment expectations—will you need to keep your studios balanced in a certain way, or is it acceptable if, say, recruiting for your main instrument is more successful?
  • What I learned going back on the academic job market

    In 2009, I finished a doctoral degree in music performance, and landed a job at a small university in a rural area. Like many young academics, I assumed it would be a stepping stone.

    In those early years, I interviewed for a number of other positions, and generally found that they would be lateral moves. Most of the schools interested in hiring me didn’t pay any better, weren’t any better-located, and didn’t offer a better match for my skills and interests. I stayed long enough to earn tenure, receive a couple of promotions, and carve out a role that suited me well. I also married someone with ties to the region. We bought a house and made plans to stay.

    In 2024, the university announced some serious cuts to academic programs as a cost-saving measure. Each degree program was reduced to a series of metrics in a spreadsheet, and sorted by a calculated financial “value.” Music departments don’t fare well under spreadsheet scrutiny, since we do much of our teaching one-on-one or in small groups, and always need more money for scholarships, grand pianos, and travel. My department was cut, and most of the music faculty, including me, were given one terminal year before being laid off.

    I didn’t expect to be back on the job market mid-career, but things worked out surprisingly well. During that terminal year, my workload—and frankly, my motivation—lightened enough that I had time to also teach part-time at a not-too-far-away, much larger, and more reputable university, due to the sudden retirement of one of their faculty. That put me in good position to interview for the full-time job when it was listed. I was offered the job, accepted the offer, and started in fall of 2025.

    I really couldn’t have been more fortunate about how things worked out, but while things were still up in the air I did find myself facing down some scary realities. While I definitely don’t have all the answers, I’m sharing my experience here in hopes it might be helpful to someone else.

    What seems to have helped me was a combination of luck and an understanding of how music professors get hired. The job market is shrinking and shifting; many variables are beyond anyone’s control. But some are not. You can’t control where positions open. You can try to apply where the fit is genuine and make a case for why that fit matters.

    My first concern was whether I would find jobs to apply to at all. The academic music job market is bleak—too many qualified folks, not enough positions, and job descriptions that are frustratingly specific. Even for woodwind openings (my area), some required background I don’t have, like in wind conducting, marching band, or music theory.

    Then there was the question of where. Preference usually isn’t much of a factor in academic job searches; you go where the job offer is. One possibility I did an early-stage interview for was in an extremely expensive city that would have meant downsizing. Another was in a more affordable area, but with weather that would have meant retooling our entire lifestyle. Finding a good fit less than three hours away—and actually landing it—was far more than I could have hoped for.

    There was also the matter of age and rank. While schools aren’t supposed to consider age, it can be an unspoken factor. I have many good teaching years ahead—but not as many as the freshly minted doctorates also applying. (A mentor even suggested shaving my greying beard to look younger.) My rank as a full professor may also have caused concern that I would expect title, salary, or autonomy that some institutions could not accommodate. One job that seemed like a no-brainer fit never progressed to an in-person interview, and the job went to a much younger (excellent and deserving) candidate. I can’t know why, of course, but I have to wonder.

    On the other hand, I had the much-in-demand “college teaching experience” required in so many job listings. Having served on and chaired hiring committees, I’ve seen applicants without relevant teaching experience get dumped straight into the “no” pile. (For that reason, I strongly suggest that graduate students seek out teaching assistantships or part-time adjunct positions, even if unglamorous or inconvenient.)

    Maybe more importantly, I knew how to frame my candidacy better than when I was a new DMA. In those days I leaned heavily into my nerdy academic interests and my high-minded teaching philosophies. This time, I focused on recruitment strategy, experience working with diverse (and sometimes underprepared) student populations, and a track record of collegiality and flexibility. I tried to present myself as a candidate who could help solve practical problems for my future colleagues and department. Artistic excellence matters, but it’s not enough.

    The opportunity to teach part-time at the institution before the full-time search was likely helpful. I built relationships with faculty, and did a lot of driving back and forth to support recruitment events and student performances. I learned the department’s priorities and pressures, and spent those hours on the road thinking about them. Recruitment and growth were central concerns, and I could show that I already had a local recruiting network that aligned with those goals, including former students now teaching in area schools.

    My younger self thought artistic excellence would determine my career trajectory, and that tenure would secure it. Mid-career me sees things differently. Tenure is not immunity from institutional change.

    I can’t claim to know exactly why I was hired at the new job. Hiring can be kind of a black box. But I do know that I approached the process with a clearer sense of institutional realities, and that I tried to make a case for how I could be useful within them. In a hiring landscape that can feel opaque, that was something I could control.

  • Reader email: Chinese woodwinds

    Some dizi and xiao from my collection

    I recently got email from a reader about the use of Chinese woodwinds in theater and film music. I did my best to answer his questions, and I’m posting them here in case they are of use to anyone else. Both questions and answers are edited here for length and awesomeness.

    My question for you is about bamboo flutes. I see the term bamboo flute thrown around (such as in the reed 1 book for Aida) and I wonder what exactly that means. Do those musicians own 12 bamboo sticks with holes drilled in them, or do they use a specific style of bamboo flute from a particular part of the world?

    If the part calls for “bamboo flute” with no other clarification, I think that leaves it pretty well open to interpretation by the flutist and musical director. Aida is set in the Old Kingdom of Egypt, where, according to my Wikipedia research, bambooĀ per seĀ did not grow. Probably the best-known bamboo-ish Egyptian flutes are neys, made from bamboo-like reeds.

    My guess is that most woodwind players would substitute some variety of bamboo transverse flute, such as an Indian bansuri, aĀ ChineseĀ dizi (perhaps with the buzzing membrane replaced by a piece of tape), or a non-culture-specific bamboo flute like those sold byĀ Erik the Flutemaker.Ā Doug Tipple’s PVC flutesĀ make an excellent and economical substitute for bamboo, with nice tone (I dare you to hear the difference) and consistent intonation and response. You might be able to contact musicians who have worked on specific shows, and find out what solutions they came up with; theĀ Internet Broadway DatabaseĀ is a good starting point.

    Your listing for The Lion King is much more specific, which brings me to my next question: dizi keys. I happen to be inĀ ChinaĀ right now. Tunable dizi flutes are cheap, and one-piece dizi are cheaper. Do I need 12 tunable dizi? What keys are actually played in theater and film in the US? Read More “Reader email: Chinese woodwinds”

  • |

    Does woodwind doubling prevent you from being the “best?”

    My recent post about woodwind doubling has been cited lately on various social media sites to fuel discussions over whether doubling is a good or acceptable pursuit.

    Many of those arguing that woodwind doubling is a bad idea raise the issue that the “best” players of such-and-such instrument don’t double, and you can’t be the “best” at such-and-such instrument if you are doubling. If you think that, I could name a dozen prominent doublers who might change your mind, but that’s not really the important point.

    As an undergraduate saxophone major, I daydreamed occasionally about being the “best” saxophonist. For me it probably wouldn’t have been a realistic goal, and the pursuit of it wouldn’t have led me to happiness, nor to success as I would have seen it through that lens.

    When I made the decision to commit myself to woodwind doubling as a career path instead, I knew that would mean my progress on the saxophone would slow down. But it has been a very worthwhile choice for me: I get to play interesting music in a variety of settings, I get to spend all day at my university teaching job talking about the music and instruments that fascinate me, and I even have an audience of like-minded folks who stop by to read my blog posts. Now it’s hard for me to imagine myself being content to play just saxophone music all day.

    Most of us won’t land a top orchestral job or tour the world as a concert soloist. And, believe it or not, not all of us want that anyway. We should be encouraging aspiring musicians to seek out niches that they enjoy and are motivated by.

    Very, very few of us will ever be the “best,” so if that is your goal then I wish you luck. But for many of us, myself included, that’s not the goal at all. Mine is to have a successful and enjoyable career doing what I love, and so far, so good.

  • Wind playing and contagious diseases

    I’m not a (medical) doctor or disease expert of any kind, but I’ve been thinking a bit about the instruments I play and the risks of catching or spreading disease. (At the time of this writing, Covid-19 is foremost in many people’s minds.) I’m presenting a few thoughts here in hopes that people with real expertise will be able to address them in an authoritative way, and I’ll update this post as appropriate with links to additional information if/when it becomes available. Update: I have created a separate page with links to research/resources.

    As a player of reed instruments, I am of course concerned about reeds and mouthpieces (and related items like mouthpiece caps and reed cases, tools, and workspaces), and would like to implement some more structured, methodical ways of keeping them clean.

    But the thing that worries me more is what is in the air when I am playing wind instruments, or near people who are. Some research/modeling (the accuracy/relevance of which I am unqualified to judge) seems to suggest that “aerosol particles” from a cough can travel far and remain in the air for a long time:

    I can only speculate on how this relates to playing wind instruments, but it does leave me feeling uneasy. Some concerns that spring to mind:

    • If I am teaching lessons, even in my relatively spacious university studio, are my students and I both filling the air with potentially infectious particles, by blowing large amounts of well-supported air over sustained periods of time?
    • What surfaces in my studio are receiving these particles, and how long can germs survive there? Should I be altering my routine of teaching lessons all morning, then eating lunch at my desk? Do I need a routine for cleaning music stands, metronomes, and other items that are in the line of “fire?” Should I be concerned about what is settling on the bassoon reeds drying on pegs in a corner of the office?
    • When I or my students perform (especially in ensembles), how close are we to other people? I’ve certainly played orchestral gigs where there’s hardly enough elbow room to swab out a clarinet. What is being put into the air or onto surfaces when the entire wind section starts to play?

    Contagious diseases certainly aren’t new, and I think some basic courtesies and hygiene will continue to be adequate to keep ordinary disease risks in check. But at the time of this writing we find ourselves in an age when we are more attuned to physical (“social”) distancing, handwashing, and mask-wearing, and when we receive somber daily tallies of those affected by a public health crisis we don’t yet fully understand.

    Let’s all be listening to experts and thinking about how we can continue to share music with our students, teachers, collaborators, and audiences, safely and in good health. Stay well.

  • Q&A: Personal reflections

    A couple of weeks ago I put out a call for questions, in honor of today being the fifteenth anniversary of this blog. A few of the questions asked about my own career and approaches to various things. I’ll try to answer the best I can.

    One reader asked about music education and work/life balance. This person completed a degree in music education but found there was pressure to make teaching a “lifestyle” rather than just a 9-to-5 kind of job.

    To be clear, my degrees are in performance, not music education, though I make my living as an educator at the university level. But most of my students are music education majors, and on the track to become public school band directors. Some of my former students have really embraced that career, have excelled in it, and have wrestled with the work/life balance aspects to various results. Others have burned out quickly and moved on to other career options. I do think sometimes there’s a sort of cult around music as a career—the rueful but revealing jokes about college music majors “living” in the practice rooms, or about high school band directors kissing their families goodbye until after marching band season. It’s a complex and very individual calculus whether passion, time investment, family and other “life” demands, finances, and identity balance in the right ways to make those careers worthwhile. It’s also a moving target: after 14 years and a couple of promotions in my university position, the demands on my time and energy have shifted, and my approach to the job has adapted to make it more sustainable for me and my specific needs.

    A related question came from another reader: am I happy with the balance of teaching and performing in my life, and do I have plans to adjust that?

    As a full-time university music professor, a certain quantity of teaching (and to some extent performance) is non-negotiable. And I live in a rural and relatively remote area, so pre-made freelance performance opportunities are somewhat limited. But there are some choices I have made to adjust my balance. I don’t teach summer classes, so I’ve got a few months each year to do some relaxing/recovery and some concentrated work on projects that are important to me, like preparing recitals, working on online content and tools, and writing. A few years ago I cut loose my private students outside of my university responsibilities, in order to focus on finishing a book and further developing some online projects. I’m fortunate that the book and online things have more than replaced the income from those additional students, and let me have a little more variety in my days. Plus, I get to refer lesson inquiries to my college students, who are usually anxious for the experience and the reed money.

    A longtime woodwind player asked what I do to “keep things fresh.”

    I can respond with some of the things I’ve done, but of course these are specific to my interests and circumstances. I continue to pursue interests in world/folk instruments, and the Zoom era has opened up some possibilities for connecting and studying with expert players around the world. I’m also having fun with combining woodwind instruments with electronics. My university job gives me a venue and audience to do new and/or familiar things on stage, in annual faculty recitals. This blog and my other web-based projects combine my interest in music and woodwinds with my interest in software and coding. I’ve released the one book, and am in the process of writing another. And of course I’m always on the lookout for new etudes, exercises, and repertoire for me and for my students.

    Thanks for the thoughtful questions!

One Comment

  1. Hi

    I was just reading this article and found it quite interesting. You said at the start it was cut short but is there anyway I can get the full version??

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