Fact and fiction in woodwind teaching

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?”

Similar Posts

  • Tonguing and language sounds

    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.

  • What kind of ligature should I get?

    Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases, at no cost to you.

    I’m on record as believing that clarinet and saxophone ligatures make little if any actual difference in how you sound. You’re welcome to disagree, but you might want to watch Michael Lowenstern’s video about it first.

    So, assuming the ligature has little direct influence on sound, what is the best kind to buy?

    Consider the humble fabric-type ligature:

    Fabric-type clarinet and saxophone ligatures

    They can be made of fabric or various other flexible materials. Fake-leather materials are popular.

    Here are their advantages over most other ligatures:

    • Generally inexpensive, although there are pricier versions available if paying more makes you feel better
    • Relatively easy to fit to even unusual mouthpieces and reeds, since they are flexible
    • Durable: I still have and use one I bought in high school
    • Not easily damaged: can be dropped, stepped on, or otherwise battered with little if any ill effect
    • Won’t dig into or otherwise damage reeds or mouthpieces
    • More expensive than an actual shoelace, but quicker and easier to install
    • Ambidextrous: many of the popular inexpensive ones can be switched for left- or right-handed screw tightening
    • Usually just one screw to tighten, so 50% less tightening/loosening time than the many other kinds of ligatures that have two screws
    • Available: no waiting lists or custom-building, easily purchaseable from just about any brick-and-mortar or online band-instrument retailer

    I have a number of fancy and expensive ligatures that various teachers required I buy over the years of my education, including some plated in actual gold. They don’t outperform my fabric-type ones in any meaningful way. You may still see them in my performance videos, etc., as I am still trying to get my money’s worth out of them. When they break or wear out, I’ll replace them cheaply and easily with good reliable fabric ones.

    Get a good, reliable, no-nonsense ligature to hold your reed in place, and happy practicing!

  • “Starting” notes with the tongue

    There’s a common misconception about woodwind articulation, that notes somehow “start” with the tongue. So, how do you start notes with your tongue? Does your tongue somehow strike the reed, making it vibrate? Try it, I’ll wait.

    Hit that reed with your tongue as hard as you like, but I suspect nothing will happen until you add air. The truth of the matter is that air starts the vibration—the tongue actually stops it.

    photo, Evan Long

    So why use the tongue at the beginning of a note—why not just start the air? Try it as an experiment. Starting from zero air pressure, very gradually add air. You will probably hear air noise first, and then tone. Can you predict precisely when the tone will kick in? Using the tongue allows the note to be “released” after sufficient air pressure is in place, avoiding the airy and unpredictable note beginning.

    Thinking in terms of the tongue releasing the note rather than kickstarting it leads to more efficient, controlled, and subtle articulation.

  • Woodwind dynamics and the embouchure

    There’s a lot of confusion about how different dynamic levels are produced on woodwind instruments. How do you think it’s done?

    If you said something like “use more or less air,” you are on the right track, kind of. But how do you put more or less air into the instrument?

    If you said something like “blow harder or softer,” you are asking for trouble. Adjusting volume by increasing and decreasing breath support causes all kinds of nasty problems, especially sluggish response, unfocused tone, and saggy pitch at softer dynamic levels.

    dynamics

    So what method is left to adjust the volume of air entering the instrument, and the corresponding loudness or softness (weirdly, also called “volume”)? Surprise, it’s your embouchure. Take a look in the mirror at your flute aperture, or look at the opening in your oboe or bassoon reed, or the opening between the tip of your clarinet or saxophone reed and the tip of the mouthpiece. By manipulating the size of this opening, you can control the volume of air passing into the instrument, while keeping your breath support powerful and steady.

    The opening isn’t large to begin with, so bear in mind that the adjustments needed are incredibly small. But your lip muscles are well-suited to very small, subtle, expressive movements—certainly more so than your larger breath support muscles.

    If you are an advanced player, you are probably doing this already, maybe without realizing it. But if you are struggling with dynamics-related problems, like unstable pitch during crescendos and diminuendos, or the inability to maintain tone at pianissimo, you might want to reexamine your technique.

    Try this: play a note in a comfortable range at an easy mezzo-forte, with powerful breath support. Without letting up on the breath support, apply just the slightest squeeze with your embouchure. (For me, the sensation is that my lips don’t really even move, they just firm up a little.) Gradually increase the squeeze—don’t forget to keep the support strong—and see what happens.

    Try it again, this time starting with the lips squeezing, and see what happens as you allow the embouchure to become more and more relaxed. This maxes out when the reed is almost completely free to vibrate at its widest amplitude, or when the flute aperture gets too large to maintain focus in the tone. (At this point you may be able to get more volume by straining harder with your breath support muscles, but notice what happens to your pitch and/or tone!)

    Like so much of woodwind playing, the real key here is breath support. If you remember to keep it steady, then creating dynamic changes from the embouchure is really quite intuitive and produces much better results.

    Incidentally, this is why recorders, pennywhistles, and other “fipple” flutes really have only one dynamic level; the opening can’t be manipulated effectively because it is rigid. Blowing harder or softer does change the volume but at unacceptable cost to intonation. (This is probably a major reason the transverse flute essentially replaced the recorder in Western music—it could play with dynamic contrast.)

  • Dubious pedagogy alert: woodwind vibrato

    I think there is a lot of garbage in the way woodwind vibrato—specifically flute and double reed vibrato—is taught.

    Flutists, oboists, and bassoonists use the same basic physiological mechanism to produce vibrato. I often read or hear debates over what, exactly, this mechanism is, with some arguing fervently that it is the “diaphragm,” and others insisting that it is the “throat.”

    It’s worth pointing out here that a major issue in wind-instrument pedagogy is the fact that so many of the important techniques happen somewhere inside the body where they cannot be easily observed. (Violinists don’t seem to have much disagreement about what part of the body to use for vibrato.)

    My belief is that neither the “diaphragm” nor the “throat” can be correctly identified as the organ of vibrato. Read More “Dubious pedagogy alert: woodwind vibrato”

  • Sometimes staccato is neither “short” nor “separated”

    It seems that many of us are taught first to treat notes with staccato markings as “short,” and then later refine that definition to mean something like “separated” or “detached.” The difference in these definitions is that a “detached” note might really be quite long, but has at least a sliver of silence separating it from the note afterwards.

    But for wind players, even this definition may be too simplistic, and in some cases produces a sound that is too aggressively clipped or pecky.

    To achieve an appropriate staccato effect, the notes might not actually be detached at all. Check out this demonstration of staccato technique on the violin:

    It’s clear that the violinist is detaching the notes from each other. But listen carefully—does the instrument go completely silent in between notes? At a faster tempo, it doesn’t. Even though the violinist temporarily stops driving the strings’ vibrations with the bow, the instrument continues to resonate on its own, and this (softer) sound may bleed into the next note.

    A wind instrument doesn’t resonate in the same way: when the wind player stops blowing, the sound stops immediately. But since our modern wind technique borrows so heavily from the bowed string tradition, in many cases it is necessary to imitate this resonance to achieve the desired effect. To oversimplify a bit, the wind player must end “staccato” notes with very brief decrescendos.

    When this technique is applied to staccato passages, it may mean that rather than literally detaching the notes from each other, the wind player must give the impression of detachment while also giving the impression of a brief violin-style resonance following each note. In other words, the “space” between the notes is actually filled, at least partially but maybe completely, with a very quick decrescendo.

    A reverberant performance space also helps to mask wind instruments’ lack of damped oscillation, but ultimately it is up to the wind player to create the faux resonance when the situation demands. Pay close attention to the ends of your staccato notes!

2 Comments

  1. 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 :)

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