Clarinet pinky fingerings

Recently I discussed the topic of clarinet “pinky” (little finger) fingerings with my woodwind methods class. With all that school band directors have on their plates, it’s not surprising that this topic doesn’t always get taught thoroughly to beginners. It can be a bit of a puzzle to a non-clarinetist, but the important concepts can be mastered with a minimum of effort if they are taught clearly.

This is an important thing for woodwind doublers to understand, too, since they may be bringing with them some fingering habits that worked well on their other instrument(s), but which may not apply to clarinet in the same way.

The following notes on the clarinet require use of a pinky key:

These notes require left hand pinky These notes require right hand pinky
left hand pinky notes right hand pinky notes
These notes use EITHER left or right hand pinky
fingerings using either pinky

Pinky keys are also used in the altissimo register, in resonance fingerings, and so forth, but for today we’ll focus on the notes in the chart. If you’re unfamiliar with the fingerings, check them out at the Woodwind Fingering Guide.

The crucial decision-making deals with the notes in the last row of the chart, which each have two fingering possibilities—one using the left pinky, and one using the right pinky. If your clarinet is in proper adjustment, there shouldn’t be a difference in tone or intonation between the two fingerings, as they open or close the same toneholes. (With a poorly-adjusted clarinet, it’s possible for, say, one fingering to open a certain pad wider than another pad, perhaps affecting pitch and tone.) So our only criterion will be ease and precision of fingering.

Consider this passage, and we will walk through a systematic thought process for selecting fingerings:
example 1

The potential problem spots are the areas where we have two or more pinky notes in a row:
example 2

Now let’s narrow it down further to the notes that only have one possible fingering. We’ll mark the ones that require the left pinky with an L and those that require the right pinky with an R.
example 3

Wherever possible, we want to alternate pinkies, so that we are not trying to slide a pinky from one key to another. Take a look at the two groups of pinky notes in the first measure. Since all of those pinky notes have two possible fingerings, we have lots of possibilities. Let’s look at those possibilities, with the first pinky note of each group marked. If the first note is marked with an L, assume that the next note will be played with the right hand (and vice versa) to keep the pinkies alternating.

example 4

Any of those combinations works fine; for most players, it will probably make sense to use the same fingering combination for both pairs of notes.

For the pinky-note group in the second measure, the right pinky is our only option for the E-flat. That means the D-flat before it will have to be played with the left hand, and the C before that with the right hand. Since the C is the first of the pinky notes in that group, we’ll mark it with an R and then just remember to alternate from there.
example 5

The pinky-note group in the third measure is a problem, since the two E-flats and the A-flat make it impossible to do a strict alternation.

One possibility for the first two notes is to slide the right pinky off the E-flat key and onto the D-flat key. Because of the arrangement of the keys, this slide is pretty doable; some others aren’t.

For the next three notes, another trick will work, since a good slide isn’t possible: we’ll press the D-flat key initially with the right hand, then quickly add the left hand D-flat key, then lift the right hand key. The D-flat is still sounding, uninterrupted, and the right hand pinky is now free to press the E-flat key for the next note. Phew!

example 6

For advanced clarinetists, this decision process should become virtually automatic, habituated by diligent and meticulous practice of scales and arpeggios.

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    [Student plays.]

    Me: How did that sound to you?

    Student: Not good.

    Me: What didn’t you like about it?

    Student: It didn’t sound good.

    Me: What aspect of it didn’t sound good to you? The tone? the pitch? the phrasing? the articulation?

    Student: Um, I guess the articulation?

    Me: What didn’t you like about the articulation?

    Student: It wasn’t good?

    It’s an ongoing battle to get my students to listen more deeply than that. Was the articulation “not good” because it started with air noise instead of tone? Because it was accompanied by an unwanted percussive sound? Was the articulation technique perfect but you failed to follow the composer’s markings? Or was it something else?

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    Often the “not good” is a combination of factors, but if my students can identify even one of them, then they can immediately start working in a focused way to improve it. If it’s just “not good,” then they tend to just play it again from the beginning without any clear approach to making it sound better, and repeat until frustrated.

    Part of my job is to help them identify and verbalize the desirable and undesirable phenomena in their playing, and to teach them the techniques for manipulating the variables involved (breath support, voicing, embouchure, finger technique, and tongue technique, to name the most obvious ones). But it’s up to them to take that information and run with it. For my students to become independently-functional musicians, they need to learn to listen critically to themselves and troubleshoot.

    For yourself and for your students, don’t be satisfied with bland value judgments (it sounded “good” or “bad”). Be factual and descriptive about what you hear, and tackle problems in a methodical way. Practice smart!

  • The problem with “ethnic” woodwinds

    I mentioned in a recent post that I am trying to get away from using the term “ethnic” woodwinds, one that I have used frequently in the past as a catch-all for the instruments I play that aren’t modern Western flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, or saxophones. The term was problematic from the beginning, since, for example, I was using it to include instruments like recorders, which fall squarely under the umbrella of Western music traditions, but are arguably period or historical instruments.

    Additionally, I find that the term “ethnic” increasingly grates on my ear as too ethnocentric and limited a view, and incompatible with my real attitudes concerning music from cultures and traditions other than my native ones. For example, it’s clearly not politically correct to lump non-white people or non-Americans together under the label “ethnic,” so it doesn’t seem to make sense for me to use similarly divisive and condescending language to refer to musical traditions, either.

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    I currently favor the term “major modern woodwinds” as an acceptable (though flawed) shorthand for all the Western orchestral woodwinds plus saxophones. But there isn’t a really accurate and culturally-sensitive way to lump together the woodwinds that don’t fall into that category. I frequently need to express verbally or in writing what instruments I play. If I am speaking to someone musically savvy, I can say that I play “woodwinds” and they will assume that I play most or all of the major modern woodwinds. They are unlikely to just assume, though, that I can also play recorders and dizi and Lakota flutes and a bunch of others, and that might be information that I want them to have.

    Recently I expressed this concern on social media, and got a few interesting suggestions. “World” woodwinds came up, and is what I have adopted for now on this website, though I think ultimately it has some of the same issues as “ethnic:” aren’t my clarinets “world” instruments (and, for that matter, don’t they have ethnicity, too)? Someone else suggested “woodwinds of various cultural origins,” which I think is pretty good but too wordy to be practical. Someone else suggested that I simply list the instruments individually rather than trying to affix a single label; I think this idea has clear merit in terms of cultural sensitivity, but it does fail the practicality test.

    It’s tempting to consider something clever like Pedro Eustache’s term “multidirectional flute soloist,” but, though charming, it doesn’t communicate the concept with any clarity. I have also experimented with materials-based terminology as in “wooden and bamboo flutes,” but this isn’t inclusive enough and ultimately has the same problem as the word “woodwinds” itself—wood construction isn’t what makes a woodwind a woodwind.

    So for now it’s “world” woodwinds, or perhaps “woodwinds of various cultural origins” when that kind of wordiness is practicable. I welcome additional suggestions in the comments section.

  • Play reeds that fit

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    During a rare visit to a music store this week, I overheard a very young clarinetist asking a salesperson to help him locate some unusually stiff reeds. The salesperson was as surprised as was I that the young man was interested in such an extreme equipment choice—but apparently for different reasons.

    “You must be very talented to have moved up to such stiff reeds already,” the salesperson told the beaming prodigy. “How impressive!”

    To me, this is a little like congratulating someone on moving up to a larger hat size. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. I started out in a 7¼, but I worked really hard and now I’m ready for the 7½. But the real greats all wear at least an 8, so that’s where I want to end up.” Bigger isn’t better—you should wear whatever fits your head.

    A clarinet or saxophone reed should be an appropriate fit to the mouthpiece. There are a number of factors that determine what strength of reed is right for a mouthpiece, but, in general terms, most mouthpieces with wider tip openings require softer reeds to get good response, and most mouthpieces with narrower openings need a stiffer reed for stability and dynamic range.

    While each player is of course different, I think sometimes the factor of the individual embouchure is actually over-emphasized. The embouchure doesn’t and shouldn’t need unusual muscular strength to do its job—it requires delicacy and control. If you’re biting and straining against a too-stiff reed, you’re sacrificing both, and both you and your audience are suffering for it. For most mouthpieces, there is a narrow range of reed strengths that is about right, no matter how “strong” you are (or think you are).

    There’s no such thing as “moving up” to a stiffer reed, just “moving” to a different strength to suit a new mouthpiece or to correct an error in your previous reed choice.

  • Q&A: Reeds

    Here are some of the questions readers sent me in celebration of this blog’s 10-year anniversary. I have edited, combined, and otherwise adapted some of them but hopefully there are answers here for those of you who were kind enough to inquire.

    How do you (or how do you help a student) select the appropriate hardness of reed?

    This is a careful balancing act and involves tradeoffs. In general a too-soft reed causes pitch instability (tending toward flatness), good piano response but limited forte range, improved low-register response but weak upper register, and a thin and/or bright tone. A too-hard reed usually has poor piano response, a more resistant low register, and a stuffy or labored tone.

    I find that many reed players use reeds that are too stiff, perhaps due to the strange but pervasive idea of “moving up” in reed strength as a rite of passage or indicator of skill.

    Also: with clarinet and saxophone, reed strength is (a) inconsistent between brands and (b) tied very closely to the characteristics of the mouthpiece, so it’s not especially useful to make broad recommendations (“beginners should start on a 2½…”). It’s entirely likely that two clarinetists playing different mouthpieces might need dramatically different reed strengths.

    How can I obtain better than mass produced double reeds for my beginning oboe and bassoon students? Do you have any tips on how to learn to improve already made reeds, store bought or otherwise?

    Absolutely double reed players should, if at all possible, work with private teachers for this very reason. The ideal scenario is for a private teacher to make and continually adjust reeds for beginning double reed players. An alternative might be to connect with nearby symphony players, professors or graduate students, military musicians, or other nearby double reeders who might be willing to sell reeds (face-to-face, so adjustments can be made) or do occasional reed classes or adjustment sessions.

    Improving/adjusting reeds involves some specialized skills, one of which is playing the instrument at a high level. Reed adjustment is an iterative process of making a small change and then testing, small change and test, small change and test. If you can’t play the instrument well, then reed adjustment is shooting in the dark.

    One possible exception is that minor changes to bassoon reed wires are basically reversible, so there may be some room to experiment with that. I won’t get specific here as wire adjustments have been dealt with in detail by many previous authors, but careful, small adjustments can potentially improve response in various registers, pitch, and tone.


    Thanks for your questions, and good luck with your reeds!

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    I was pleased to receive recently some samples of D’Addario Woodwinds’s new “Venn” synthetic clarinet and saxophone reeds. In an upcoming post, I’ll share some thoughts about and demonstrations of the specific products. But here are a few thoughts to set the stage:

    • I’m thrilled to see a major cane reed manufacturer like D’Addario take on this challenge. My hunch is that other major reed makers are either close at their heels or betting on musicians’ provincial thinking about modern materials. Let’s hope it’s the former.
    • I am a strong believer that synthetic reeds are the future. Modern science has invented amazing materials for clothing and smartphone screens and space travel; we can invent something that works great for reeds. Natural cane isn’t sacred or magical—it’s a material with upsides and some very clear downsides.
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    • Assuming there are viable synthetic reeds available, it may make sense to adopt them and claim all the potential benefits (consistency, longevity, resistance to warping, reduced waste, cost savings), and, if necessary, seek out new mouthpieces that are well suited to them. I have mouthpieces I like, but if I can replace them and never have to deal with the problems of cane again, that seems like an option well worth considering.

    Zealous loyalty to “traditional” materials isn’t a virtue. (If you’re a woodwind player like me, there’s a good chance your equipment already includes materials that are “new” since the instrument’s invention anyway.) Keep an open mind!

  • Multi-instrument method in Rahsaan Roland Kirk’s “Creole Love Call”

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    Kirk recorded as early as 1956, but got little attention until 1960, when critics began to accuse him of gimmickry. Kirk maintained that his unorthodox techniques were born of musical expression rather than cheap showmanship, and his following began to increase.

    In 1970, he added “Rahsaan” to his name, having been prompted to do so by another dream. Read More “Multi-instrument method in Rahsaan Roland Kirk’s “Creole Love Call””

3 Comments

  1. Excellent explanation, Bret. My 8th grade band has started working on Lloyd Conley’s “Bobsled Run”, and the clarinets have been hitting themselves over the head with all the possibilities of pinky fingers. This will definitely help them figure out which should be played where, and negotiate the problematic passages.

    Thanks!

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