A former teacher, who, I hasten to point out, I respect and admire greatly, once asked me in a lesson to “spin the air.”
I hadn’t the foggiest idea what he meant.
I tried a few things that I thought maybe the teacher had in mind, but none of them was right. I asked for clarification.
He said, “It’s like this,” and he blew a puff of air while twirling his finger around (presumably to indicate spinning).
Surely he didn’t mean literally to cause the air, somehow, to leave my lips in some kind of spiral. I confessed my confusion and asked if he would be kind enough to demonstrate spinning the air versus not spinning the air. He obliged.
I couldn’t detect any difference.
I still don’t know what he meant that day. In his mind, “spinning the air” was a perfectly good explanation of the concept, but it didn’t click for me.
Sometimes I ask my own students to do things that are obviously impossible, like “breathe all the way down into your toes.” It’s a useful fiction, but only because my students usually get the picture and can act it out physically. Requests that are less obviously fictional work as well or better (“blow the air so it goes all the way through the instrument and shoots out the other end”).
Explaining pedagogical concepts in fictional terms works if the fiction is understood in the same terms by both teacher and student, and can be a convenient shorthand for quickly evoking complex behaviors. But if the student doesn’t get it, it falls back on the teacher to know what is really desired (like more breath support, or a smaller amount of tongue touching the reed, or whatever) and to find a new explanation.
Oh, and does anyone know how, exactly, to “spin the air?”
I’ve got ethnic woodwinds on the brain lately, and no end in sight since they are the topic of my doctoral dissertation research. If you haven’t added any ethnic instruments to your arsenal yet, here’s what I recommend for a relatively easy to play, low-maintenance, inexpensive, and versatile beginning to your collection. Read More “Getting started with ethnic woodwinds: your holiday wish list”
There are few more coveted clarinet techniques than the smooth glissando, as heard in the famous opening to Rhapsody in Blue. But the technique isn’t intuitive, and lots of questions persist about how to do it.
(Incidentally: the Rhapsody in Blue score doesn’t call for a smooth portamento-type effect, but a scale with discrete notes. But the portamento became tradition early in the piece’s life and is now more or less required.)
How the clarinet glissando is done, technique-wise
One key thing to understand is that finger movement is the smallest part of the clarinet glissando. It’s not possible (or at least I’ve never seen it done) to achieve the full effect by simply uncovering toneholes gradually. The real work here is done with voicing.
Let’s break the technique down. We’ll use Rhapsody in Blue as an example, but the principles can be applied to other repertoire (or improvisations).
First, let’s look at what’s called for in the score:
Glissandos that cross register breaks are a particular challenge, so most clarinetists avoid that, opting to play a scale in the lower register, and beginning the glissando at the lower-clarion B or C.
High C is the destination note. Start by playing that note and using your voicing (think of blowing warmer air) to bend the pitch downward. Resist the urge to “lip” it down with your embouchure muscles or to let your breath support sag.
Bend it down absolutely as far as you can, until the note quits. It can take some practice to get a wide pitch bend range. Don’t strain; play around with it for a few minutes, then try again tomorrow.
Once you’re able to bend it fairly far, try kicking in some extra breath support. The air column is reluctant to vibrate when it’s bent too far (I’m fudging a little here on the acoustics). Use powerful air, even more powerful than usual, to make it keep vibrating, and see if you can bend even farther.
Now go to the lower part of the glissando, B or C in the staff. Try to bend it. You probably can’t bend this long-tube note, with lots of closed toneholes, nearly as much as you could bend the short-tube high C.
Now play the note, and gradually let your fingers lift, just a little bit, off the toneholes.
Notice that with the toneholes just slightly vented, the note becomes much less stable—or more bendable. Play around with the pitch to get the feel of it.
Now play the lowest note of the glissando (I’m using C here for simplicity). Move the fingers a little off their toneholes (all of them, except the left thumb, which stays in position for high C) while simultaneously bending the pitch down hard with voicing. (Remember to keep breath support strong.) While gradually moving the fingers farther off the toneholes, bend gradually upward with voicing. As the fingers finally completely clear the toneholes, the voicing arrives at its standard high position, and the pitch settles in on high C.
It takes practice to get the fingers and voicing coordinated, and to gain enough control to shape the bend just how you want it.
To execute the Rhapsody in Blue opening, play a scale in the lower register, then switch as seamlessly as possible to a glissando just above the register break. Some players play the scale portion as written, but some attempt to make it sound more glissando-like by turning it into a chromatic scale. Sometimes they also start the scale on chalumeau F-sharp rather than the written G.
How the clarinet glissando is done, taste-wise
Mastering the technique of the glissando, like mastering any technique, is only the first step. The next and perhaps more important step is to learn to do it with good musical taste.
When performing a glissando, carefully consider the shape of the pitch bend. How long is the bend overall? Should the pitch move in a straight line from one pitch to another? (Unlikely.) Should it have more of a curve, staying low at first and then rising at an increasing rate? Should there be a moment at the beginning or end at which the pitch remains stable, or is it constantly in motion?
These are fine distinctions, but important to the character of the glissando. Careful, detailed listening is crucial to the process—be sure to check out as many good recordings as you can, and note the differences in approach. If your intention is for the glissando to sound jazz-like, make sure you are listening to jazz players who use that effect, not just classical players who may or may not have done their homework.
Why it’s a clarinet-specific effect
The clarinet, unlike any of the other major modern wind instruments, uses a very high voicing for general playing. This leaves room to lower the voicing considerably for this special glissando effect. Flutes and double reeds (and brass instruments) use a very low voicing, which theoretically can be raised, but a raised voicing on a low-voicing instrument doesn’t cover as much territory pitch-wise; in other words, it’s harder to raise the pitch with voicing than it is to lower it. The saxophones, with an in-between voicing, have some flexibility here, but also have to contend with large keys on large toneholes, which are not as precise for hole-uncovering as fingertips on small clarinet toneholes. (The keys situation also explains why the larger clarinets aren’t nearly as agile with glissandos, even though those instruments are properly played with a high voicing.) In short, the technique lends itself particularly to the high clarinets, and may be much more difficult on other woodwinds.
The problems with my original technique are that you have to determine your precise tempo ahead of time, and you don’t have any flexibility to change it on the fly. You also can’t easily change your mind about the sound that you want—if you decide you really wanted something flutey instead of something brassy, you have to edit another sound. If you want to play several pieces or movements at different tempi, you need to dedicate a separate voice to each one. You also get a maximum of 1.27 seconds of echo. For my recent recital, I wanted the flexibility of playing multiple movements and changing my mind about sounds, and I needed a longer delay time for a slow movement.
At the time of my original tutorial, I assumed that the external device needed would be some kind of looper, but upon further exploration I have actually found a digital delay pedal to be the best way of accomplishing the effect. I am using the ubiquitous Boss DD-7, used by many electric guitarists, but presumably these instructions can be adapted to other similar gadgets (you are on your own to work out the details). I also used an auxiliary pedal, the Boss FS-5U. This simplifies things slightly on stage if you want to be able to turn the echo on and off quickly, but it’s totally optional. I’ll tell you how to make this work with or without it.
Be wary of pedagogical approaches to woodwind articulation that depend on analogies to speech sounds.
The most common, at least in the English-speaking world, is the idea that tonguing is like saying “too” or “doo.” And certainly there are significant mechanical similarities, especially with “too.” “Doo” doesn’t work as well because it is a voiced consonant, produced essentially the same way as “too” but with vibration of the vocal cords, an undesirable effect for woodwind playing (except for some extended techniques).
Some teachers recommend something like “too” for crisper articulations and “doo” for gentler ones. If you compare carefully your whispered (unvoiced) “t” and “d” sounds, you may find that they are not, in fact, completely identical. My “t” gives a bit more explosive sound, because I release the entire tongue, and my “d” is softer because I tend to release only the tip of the tongue, keeping the back in contact with my molars. But this difference doesn’t apply to good woodwind playing technique, in which the back of the tongue must be kept independent from the tip in order to manipulate voicing.
“Loo” is another one that gets mentioned sometimes for gentler articulations. This one also doesn’t work well if taken literally because (1) the “l” sound is voiced and (2) it leaks air around the sides of the tongue. (You can approximate an unvoiced version by whispering “lll…,” but that sound isn’t typically used in English.) A woodwind book I read recently recommends some additional oddities like “droo” or “thoo.” “Droo” doesn’t work well because it has a sequence of two consonant tongue positions, one of which is voiced. “Thoo” (presumably the unvoiced version) leaks air near the tip of the tongue.
Another point worth making is that consonant sounds in English aren’t necessarily the same as consonants in other languages, so even if we select some workable English consonant sounds, it’s not a given that those are the ideal choices. (Plenty of study has already been done on this topic.)
And that’s just the consonants. Assuming they are used as a shorthand for describing articulations, with an understanding that they do not precisely represent articulation technique, vowel sounds can still cause confusion. Consider the “oo” in “too.” Vowel sounds are loosely analogous to woodwind voicings, so it is best to match the vowels to the instrument. Is “oo” the right voicing to evoke?
For low-voiced instruments, an “oh”- or “ah”-like vowel sound is a better match. (“Oh” is still problematic because English speakers pronounce it as a diphthong, two vowel sounds in sequence—this will cause unstable pitch and tone when applied to a woodwind instrument. To avoid this, we must borrow an “o” sound from another language.) For the clarinet, “ee” is the closest match. For saxophones, the vowel sound needs to be somewhere in between, perhaps near the schwa (ə) sound like the “a” in “about.”
Language sounds can be used only as a very limited analogy for woodwind articulation technique—use them with care.
There’s no way around it—if you’re going to be a serious oboist, you have to learn to make your own reeds. Even fine handmade reeds purchased from an excellent reedmaker can’t compete with reeds made to your own personal specifications, suited to your highly individual combination of embouchure, instrument, playing style, and performance situation. A reed is in a constant state of change, from initial scraping until eventual retirement, and needs the daily ministrations of a skilled reedmaker to keep it playing at its best.
Woodwind doublers who take up the oboe as a secondary instrument will need to learn at least basic reed adjustment techniques in order to have reeds they can count on in professional situations. But if you’re going to learn the mysteries of fine-tuning “finished” reeds, you’re most of the way toward learning the whole process—consider at least learning to tie blanks from cane that you purchase already gouged and shaped. Starting from tube cane gives you even more control over the finished product, but requires the use of gouging and shaping equipment ($1200+, all told).
There’s no real substitute for learning reedmaking at the feet of a skilled oboe teacher, but here are some of my hand-picked favorite guides and tutorials online. These can serve as a good introduction for a beginner, and more experienced reedmakers may like to cull a few new ideas from the wide variety of opinions and approaches represented here. Read More “Oboe reedmaking resources”
I’d like to address the term “voicing,” which I think is often misunderstood. Here’s my best definition:
Voicing refers to the relative size of the oral cavity, which can change depending on the position of the back of the tongue.
There are a number of other terms that are used to describe this same concept in woodwind playing. I don’t take issue with any of these terms individually, and I think that as a teacher it’s useful to have a variety of possible ways to explain this concept. (These terms can become problematic, however, when they are used in opposition to each other: “Open up, and blow cooler air.”)
Here are some examples of ways of describing voicing. I consider the terms in the left column all to be descriptions of the same thing, and those on the right to be likewise equivalent to each other. Read More “What is voicing?”
According to my conductor,’spinning the air’ is simply to get the air moving faster. It’s supposed to be such that there’s more air than space such that it spins. Hope that clarified your doubts :)
Hi Bret :)
According to my conductor,’spinning the air’ is simply to get the air moving faster. It’s supposed to be such that there’s more air than space such that it spins. Hope that clarified your doubts :)
I was watching this masterclass from Carolyn Hove and I noticed she was talking about spiraling/spinning the air, which reminded me of your post.
https://youtu.be/6gP7w_CVsvM?t=4m55s
She talks about spinning and spiraling the air from 5 minutes into the video and to the end.