I have now successfully completed both my written and oral comprehensive exams, and am one large step closer to finishing a doctorate in multiple woodwinds performance.
In the oral exam, one of my professors asked why woodwind doubling is a well-recognized musical specialty, but doubling on brass instruments is not. The question was an odd one, especially since brass instruments fall precisely outside my area of expertise. I didn’t have a good answer, except that brass players seem to be particularly protective of their embouchures, and presumably don’t want to risk ruining them by switching instruments. (That seemed to be satisfactory for purposes of the exam.)
I do know of one school that offers a “woodwind specialist” master’s degree, a “string specialist” master’s degree, and, yes, a “brass specialist” master’s degree: Michigan State University. (Degree descriptions here.) The string degree requires one primary instrument and one secondary, the brass degree requires one primary and two secondaries, and the woodwind degree requires one primary and three secondary instruments. I expect if anyone is doing the string degree, they do violin/viola or cello/bass, hoping to get one of the “high strings” or “low strings” teaching jobs. The only combination of three brass instruments that strikes me as marketable is trombone/euphonium/tuba, a “low brass” specialist.
I hope you enjoy your first classical music performance! Sometimes the etiquette can seem a little foreign. I’ll try to help you understand what to do, and why classical music fans do things that way.
The most important thing is not to distract the audience and the performers. Some common concert etiquette “rules” include:
Be in your seat before the music starts. Then, stay there until intermission (if there is one) or the end of the concert.
Don’t talk, even at a whisper.
Keep cell phones silenced, screens off, and put away.
No snacks.
If you have kids who might have trouble staying still/quiet, consider leaving them at home. (Except for designated family-friendly concerts.)
Applaud only at the “right” times. (More on this later.)
Avoid unnecessary fidgeting, coughing, and anything else that makes noise.
Why are the “rules” so strict? One reason is that classical music is usually performed in a special concert hall. Usually the music isn’t electronically amplified. The concert hall’s special design makes even the smallest sounds clear from a distance. That’s good when it’s a hushed moment in a violin solo. But it’s bad when it’s an audience member’s crinkling candy wrappers or ringtone. At an amplified rock, country, or hip-hop concert you can make noises like that, and no one will hear. But at a classical music concert people might hear those sounds even if they are far away. The performers can maybe even hear them from the stage.
Classical music wasn’t always such a stuffy affair. Some of the music was originally performed in more boisterous settings. And there are people in classical music interested in changing the current etiquette. But for now, the (mostly-unspoken) “rules” lean toward pretty strict and formal behavior.
And, for classical music fans, it’s one of the things they might love about it. The quiet atmosphere is a blank, unblemished canvas for the musicians to paint on. It’s a chance to hear every fine detail of a performance by highly-trained musicians. It can be immersive and meditative. You might find you enjoy it too.
To seasoned classical music fans, a disruptive audience member (even unintentionally!) might feel like someone standing in front of the TV during a crucial moment in the big football game. And, unfortunately, they might react like a sports fan, with dirty looks, unkind words, or other rudeness. That’s bad too, because it can scare away potential new fans of classical music. But it probably comes from a place of wanting to experience the music in a pure, uninterrupted way.
A polite audience member also shows appreciation to the performers, usually with applause (not so much yelling, whistling, “woo,” etc.). But pieces of classical music sometimes have multiple parts, with silence between. It can be tricky to know when is the right time to clap. If there’s a printed program, that might help you figure it out. But if you’re not sure it’s best to follow the lead of some of the other concertgoers. (There’s no prize for being the first one to clap.) Sometimes there’s a long silence between the end of the music and the start of the applause. Audience members may be waiting for the last note to finish echoing in the hall. And they might even wait a little longer to savor the magical moment of silence at the end. Don’t worry. The musicians will appreciate that too, and won’t take your hesitation as a lack of enthusiasm.
If you find all this off-putting, there are ways to appreciate classical music performances from home instead. If you enjoy it you can work up to an in-person concert. Or you may be able to find free or inexpensive concerts in your area, especially if there’s a university with a music department. You can try one of those and leave at intermission if you’re bored or uncomfortable.
Thanks for your interest in live classical music, and I hope you enjoy!
The most important rhythmic concept in jazz is swing, an intentional unevenness of note lengths. In jazz swing, downbeat notes (and rests) are long, and upbeats are shorter and later. This phenomenon isn’t represented well by classical musical notation, but sometimes it is approximated like this:
Or like this:
The examples assign the downbeat notes a length exactly 2 times that of the upbeat notes—the triplet quarter note is twice as long as the triplet eighth, or, in other words, the swing ratio is 2:1.
The debate over swing ratios
The triplet method of explaining swing rhythm is unpopular with many jazz musicians and educators, who insist that a triplet-like 2:1 ratio is incorrect. Most of them, if pressed, are unable to provide a better ratio or formula. Instead they insist on the importance of listening to jazz to aurally absorb the “correct” ratio (or system of ratios, perhaps varying with tempo), or propose that swing can only properly be “felt” rather than explained.
There are a number of things that these musicians and educators are correct about: a triplety ratio isn’t necessarily correct, and listening is important.
What these otherwise fine folks sometimes get wrong is the idea that swing can’t be measured or analyzed. In fact, it has been extensively measured and analyzed by a number of scholars, and some useful generalizations can be made. (If you want to dig into the research, an excellent place to start is the article “Preferred swing ratio in jazz as a function of tempo” by Anders Friberg and Andreas Sundström, published in TMH-QPSR, volume 38, no. 4, 1997.)
Some helpful swing generalizations
In general, yes, a swing ratio of 2:1, triplet-style, works fine for many situations, particularly at moderate tempos.
It’s fairly common for swing ratios to increase (something like 2.5:1 or even higher) at slower tempos. A higher ratio could be described as “swinging harder.”
It’s also common for swing ratios to get lower at faster tempos (like 1.5:1). This could be described as “not swinging as hard” or maybe playing “straighter.”
However, jazz performers’ ratios vary, depending on factors that are perhaps best summarized as “personal taste.” And, yes, the best way to develop this informed taste is by listening to and internalizing a lot of great jazz.
It might be helpful for classically-trained musicians to consider how they interpret something like a grace note—its individual placement, length, emphasis, etc. depend on many factors, and a “swung” eighth note’s interpretation is similarly complex.
My practicing has evolved quite a bit since my beginner days. In those earliest days as a middle-school band student, my idea of “practicing” amounted to playing the scale/piece/etc. through from beginning to end, generally with a number of mistakes, and then (optionally…) doing it again. I did manage to make some progress, but the results were far from ideal: few problem spots ever really got fixed.
As my musical standards, maturity, and commitment to practice time improved, it became clear that beginning-to-end practicing was not the best use of my time. As I started taking private lessons during high school, and transitioned into university music studies, I began spending more of my practice time focusing on the problem spots. With some work, at least some of those spots got solved, and my rate of progress ramped up noticeably.
At that point, I found myself in the same situation that my own university students now sometimes complain of: they successfully improve the problem spots, but, frustratingly, the “easy” parts fall apart under pressure (in a lesson, a performance, etc.).
For me, the third stage of my practicing development began when I realized the obvious: every part of what I am practicing needs concentrated, methodical practice. If the “easy” parts are falling apart, it’s because I have essentially been sight-reading them in the practice room, and under pressure my sight-reading ability suffers a bit. Instead I need to know every note, rest, and expressive marking intimately. Problem-spot practicing gets me up close and personal with the “hard” parts, but neglects the rest.
So now I practice, and encourage my students to practice, phrase by phrase, measure by measure, even beat by beat, through every bit of the music, regardless of difficulty. Some parts might require more work, but every part needs work.
When I explain this to students, I sometimes see in their faces the same hesitation that I initially had: this is going to take forever! It does require serious commitment, but isn’t it worth it to play the lesson or performance with confidence and control? Besides, it might not take as long as you think. Sometimes I walk through the math with a student to show them that it’s actually pretty doable. For example, suppose the student’s assignment includes a 50-measure etude. If the student spends two focused minutes on each and every measure, that only adds up to a bit more than an hour and a half of practicing, but begins an intimate acquaintance with the entire etude. That’s less than one day’s worth of practicing for most college-level music students, leaving quite a few additional hours in the week to shore up the hard parts plus practice other assigned materials.
I think that, at least for me, this progression through three different stages was necessary; in other words, I don’t think it’s necessarily wise or feasible to push all beginners straight into something as intensive and committed as third-stage practicing. Your results may vary.
Exercise has always been a challenge motivation-wise for me, but now that being over 30 appears to be a chronic condition, it’s something that I’m trying to do better about. I find it easier to motivate myself to practice my instruments, but I see connections between my exercise aversion and some of my students’ practice lethargy:
Unclear or undetermined direction and goals
Poor planning of exercise/practice sessions
Sessions are boring
Unfamiliarity with proper training/practicing techniques, or a mistaken self-evaluation of how well they are being executed
I’ve previously attempted jogging routines, trips to the campus gym’s weight room, calisthenics programs, and various other workouts. All have fizzled out fairly quickly. Recently I had settled into a daily walk, which was easy and pleasant but wasn’t improving my fitness in any noticeable way.
I decided this year to take advantage of a summer fitness class being offered for free on campus. It was my first time committing to doing anything like that, but the price was right and the time commitment seemed do-able.
To my surprise, things went much better than in any of my previous attempts at regular exercise (after the first week’s exhaustion and soreness ebbed a little), and I found that a number of things that worked well for me in practice sessions were also clicking in my new fitness program:
Accountability is a big motivator. I knew the fitness instructor and my classmates would be expecting me every day, and that was enough to get me out of bed and into the gym for a full hour. Likewise, I need accountability in my practicing. For years I had teachers’ expectations to meet, but now I am accountable to myself. One thing that has worked well for me this summer is regularly-scheduled informal recording sessions, where I listen back to my playing, evaluate the results of my efforts, and write down some comments for myself.
Progress doesn’t always look like what you want it to. After my summer workouts, I still don’t have six-pack abs or a four-minute mile, but my pants are fitting a little loose, and my endurance is way, way up. Similarly, in the practice room, my summer’s efforts haven’t brought my recital repertoire to blazing tempi and groundbreaking interpretation, but I have shored up some fundamentals and made headway on some new techniques.
Variety is good. The fitness class was a “boot camp”-style regimen, with lots of short intervals of high-intensity (for me) exercise. It’s very similar to a strategy I use when practicing: pick a problem spot, and give it 10 minutes of hyper-focused effort. After 10 minutes, move on. It’s amazing how much gets done in a few hours’ worth of ten-minute chunks, and I enjoy it much more than long sessions working on the same problem.
Don’t fight your equipment. I bought new shoes partway through the summer, and the next day’s class was agony on my legs. I got some advice and bought some drugstore insoles that supported my feet differently, and the following class was 100% better. Same thing goes for my instruments and reeds: if something isn’t working efficiently, I’m unhappy and ineffective (and possibly even injured). Make sure your instruments are the best quality you can reasonably afford, and that they are kept in excellent repair and adjustment.
The fitness instructor was fond of saying, “If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you.” (The phrase seems to get credited a lot to Fred DeVito.) It’s easy to fall into patterns of “practicing” what I can already do, rather than tackling something that will push me to a new level.
Progress feeds motivation. I found that sweating through a few weeks of exercise and seeing some improvement really boosted my enthusiasm for exercise. (To my own surprise, I’m even hoping to fit in another exercise class during the semester.) I recall as a freshman music major really struggling with getting my practicing done at first. But as it started to pay off, I got excited about what I was accomplishing, and it snowballed into more and better practicing.
Go put in some hours in the practice room—and in the gym, too!
For musicians on an academic schedule, summers are often wide open. This can be a great opportunity to get ahead, or a bottomless pit of procrastination and idleness. Here are some ideas for staying motivated to get some summer practicing done.
I am starting what hopefully will be my final year in pursuit of a doctoral degree in multiple woodwinds performance (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, and saxophone). Today I kicked off five days of written comprehensive exams. In addition to a musicology exam and a music theory exam, I have been preparing for woodwind-related test questions such as these: Read More “Doctoral multiple woodwinds exams”
C’mon … shouldn’t you have said that woodwind players are simply much smarter than brass players? Any woodwind player knows that. Brass players don’t, of course, because … well … they aren’t smart enough to know.
;-)
Kidding. Of course. (And married to a former trombonist. Guess he was smart enough to stop playing!)
What about folks like Ira Sullivan and Seattle’s Jay Thomas and the late Floyd Standifer? They all doubled brass and woodwinds… Patrick Bartley, the up and coming superb alto saxophonist, was recently videotaped making pretty decent bebop sounds on a trumpet… / Many years ago I read a book on swing era jazz that reported that some of the string section players of Paul Whiteman’s orchestra had learned to be adept doublers on sax when needed… / One of Seattle’s finest flutists recently revealed she’d been practicing her violin regularly for a few years and has been doing well in string quartets… I’ve known several trumpet players who are also decent trombonists… And I saw a string group recently where one of the ‘cellists picked up a violin and played beautifully… The Dorsey Brothers both started on trumpet and both could pick up a trumpet in later years and get by… Harry James had been a child prodigy on the drums! The current principal clarinet of the Berlin Philharmonic started out first on piano, then ‘cello, and won prizes on both before taking up clarinet at age 11 or 12… (I’ve performed on clarinet, saxes, flute, oboe and bassoon. I consider clarinet & oboe my main ones…)
Congrats Bret! I’m one of those oddballs that doubles on a Brass Instrument. I’d say my main instruments are Bassoon and Saxophone….but in three community concert bands, I’m playing French Horn. I took a Brass 1 class in college and Horn was my chosen instruments. I ended up having to march Horn the following fall and played Horn in Concert Band the next year due to having my Wisdom Teeth cut out (and being told by my oral surgeon to NOT play bassoon for 6 months….that SURE put me on the “poop list” of ,my band director…where I stayed ’til he passed away. Fast forward many years….and had a car wreck in 2005. I had to stop playing Horn completely in 2011 (fractured jaw was the start of it). 2024, I knocked two lower teeth loose with a bari sax mouthpiece. Ended up having dental surgery to remove all teeth and roots. I had to learn how to play EVERYTHING all over again…with full dentures top and bottom. I was not able to have implants due to damage to my jaw from the car wreck. 4 months after the surgery, I picked up a Horn in a music store and the ability was still there…and the tone wasn’t half bad. I went back a week later and bought that horn…and it’s my main Horn to use today, a year later… I may NEVER have the range back to play 1st Horn again….but I’m fine with that. My range is low Horn and I’m FINE with those pedal tones with the occassional rip up to a G. I’m STILL playing woodwinds…but my adopted brass playing ability is still there. I truly did miss not playing Horn for those 13 years.
C’mon … shouldn’t you have said that woodwind players are simply much smarter than brass players? Any woodwind player knows that. Brass players don’t, of course, because … well … they aren’t smart enough to know.
;-)
Kidding. Of course. (And married to a former trombonist. Guess he was smart enough to stop playing!)
Congrats on passing your comps Bret! That’s obviously a huge relief for you.
What about folks like Ira Sullivan and Seattle’s Jay Thomas and the late Floyd Standifer? They all doubled brass and woodwinds… Patrick Bartley, the up and coming superb alto saxophonist, was recently videotaped making pretty decent bebop sounds on a trumpet… / Many years ago I read a book on swing era jazz that reported that some of the string section players of Paul Whiteman’s orchestra had learned to be adept doublers on sax when needed… / One of Seattle’s finest flutists recently revealed she’d been practicing her violin regularly for a few years and has been doing well in string quartets… I’ve known several trumpet players who are also decent trombonists… And I saw a string group recently where one of the ‘cellists picked up a violin and played beautifully… The Dorsey Brothers both started on trumpet and both could pick up a trumpet in later years and get by… Harry James had been a child prodigy on the drums! The current principal clarinet of the Berlin Philharmonic started out first on piano, then ‘cello, and won prizes on both before taking up clarinet at age 11 or 12… (I’ve performed on clarinet, saxes, flute, oboe and bassoon. I consider clarinet & oboe my main ones…)
Congrats Bret! I’m one of those oddballs that doubles on a Brass Instrument. I’d say my main instruments are Bassoon and Saxophone….but in three community concert bands, I’m playing French Horn. I took a Brass 1 class in college and Horn was my chosen instruments. I ended up having to march Horn the following fall and played Horn in Concert Band the next year due to having my Wisdom Teeth cut out (and being told by my oral surgeon to NOT play bassoon for 6 months….that SURE put me on the “poop list” of ,my band director…where I stayed ’til he passed away. Fast forward many years….and had a car wreck in 2005. I had to stop playing Horn completely in 2011 (fractured jaw was the start of it). 2024, I knocked two lower teeth loose with a bari sax mouthpiece. Ended up having dental surgery to remove all teeth and roots. I had to learn how to play EVERYTHING all over again…with full dentures top and bottom. I was not able to have implants due to damage to my jaw from the car wreck. 4 months after the surgery, I picked up a Horn in a music store and the ability was still there…and the tone wasn’t half bad. I went back a week later and bought that horn…and it’s my main Horn to use today, a year later… I may NEVER have the range back to play 1st Horn again….but I’m fine with that. My range is low Horn and I’m FINE with those pedal tones with the occassional rip up to a G. I’m STILL playing woodwinds…but my adopted brass playing ability is still there. I truly did miss not playing Horn for those 13 years.