Favorite blog posts, March 2024
- The Babel Flute (Rachael Simon): Can I Fix My Own Flute?
- Best. Saxophone. Website. Ever. (Pernille Bévort): 4 Powerful Exercises for Saxophone Sound and Flexibility
- Kristopher King (bassoon): Shipping Contrabassoons
I felt a lot of stress and pressure during my years in college and graduate school, about jazz and Learning Tunes. Nobody who is anybody uses a fakebook! You have to Learn the Tunes! Do you know All the Tunes? Why don’t you know More Tunes?
My teachers told me I would never make it as a jazz player unless I knew hundreds of tunes by heart. Melodies, chord progressions, and “standard” intros and outros. And since I’m a reed player, I would need to know them in at least a couple of keys. I tried, but I found it pretty daunting. My teachers seemed to think that meant I was doing it wrong, in some way they could not specify.
And besides, fakebooks are bad! They have mistakes, unlike other kinds of sheet music! Plus, the fakebook version of that tune might not be the true and authentic secret original version, but merely a common and tasteful reworking! And if you’re looking at a fakebook, you’re trapped within the confines of the printed page, literally unable to play anything creative!
My university degrees are in “classical” performance, and in multiple instruments, so jazz has never been my sole concentration. If I had done more focused and advanced study of jazz, I suppose I would have had to Learn All the Tunes, or flunk out and fail to make it in the business.
But it was never my goal to be the next big name in jazz. I love to play jazz music, but I’m quite content to do my best impressions of my favorite players, take modest solos, and yes, use a fakebook. Of the musicians in the world who play jazz at some level, very few are recording on Blue Note or headlining at the Village Vanguard.
For hobbyist or part-time jazz players, a fakebook can be very useful. Using a fakebook on a gig means I can just play the tunes the group wants to play, rather than slinking away in shame at my failure to Know them All. It means we’re all on the same page, so to speak, about keys, chord changes, forms, intros, and endings. The practicality of low stress and high versatility wins out over the ideal of never looking at a music stand. I can Learn Tunes by playing them frequently in a relaxed atmosphere. And if I forget a chord or a melody note, I can fall back on my musical skill of reading notation.
Is learning tunes by heart preferable? Probably, ideally. If you’re in a jazz studies degree program, or trying to break into the top-level jazz scene in a major market, you may indeed find it necessary to memorize a whole lot of tunes as quickly as you can. But for the rest of us, there’s no shame in using a fakebook.
My university students are often, at least at first, quite timid about playing loudly. (This is probably a side effect of learning the instrument in a school band program. They learn to play quietly because their section is too loud. Or, they get the hand from a band director who doesn’t have the time or bandwidth to correct tone production issues.)
When I push them in lessons to play with soloist-level dynamic range, they often give me a weak mezzo forte instead of the fortissimo I’m looking for. The more I ask for volume, the more they dig in at an unimpressive medium-ish.
At this point I usually ask what they think would go wrong if they played louder. The consensus seems to be that it would sound “bad,” in ways that they generally can’t quite pin down.
So I give them permission to play so loud that something goes wrong. Then they usually find some volume they have been holding in reserve, but still fall short of what they are capable of. I usually have to insist more and more firmly that they play louder and louder to show me what will go wrong.
And, virtually all the time, nothing goes wrong. They find some more available volume, and probably a fuller tone to go with it. If I’m lucky, they learn the lesson and feel less timid about volume in the future.
The issue does often come back when we encounter something new, unfamiliar, or stressful, like a complicated ornament or a note outside their comfortable range. In those cases, I have to remind them to go ahead and put air into the instrument, and to allow whatever bad thing they are dreading to go ahead and happen. If it does (and it usually doesn’t), we can hear it and troubleshoot it. But sabotaging themselves by choking off the air just guarantees failure.
Use your air confidently and powerfully. You might discover that what you have been worrying about isn’t a problem at all.
Long tones are at the core of most woodwind warmup routines. The most simple and obvious version is this:

Simple sustained notes are good for developing consistent breath support, which is required to keep the long tone steady in pitch, volume, and tone color. (Some teachers also suggest them for developing “embouchure strength,” one of the harmful and pervasive myths of woodwind playing.)
Many players and teachers recommend a version more like this:

This is a worthwhile improvement, as dynamic change requires a flexible and relatively relaxed embouchure on top of steady breath support. Exercises like the Herzberg long tones use this concept.
But I like this even better:

The first thing to notice is the addition of extreme dynamic markings, from niente (“nothing,” essentially zero volume) to fff (which should be understood here as maximum controlled volume). Achieving a note that starts from 0%, crescendos smoothly and evenly to 100%, and then back to 0%, is much more specific and demanding than just a general “get louder, then softer.” It requires powerful breath support that starts before the note sounds and continues until after it ends, as well as a tuned-in voicing and well-functioning equipment. (And it can serve as a diagnostic to find issues in these areas.) Exercises like the David Weber chromatic exercises use this approach. (At the link, scroll down to “Longtone 1.”
Less-advanced players should start and end as softly as possible and work toward a true niente. Players at all levels should take the opportunity to discover and then improve their loudest dynamic level.
The second thing to notice is the addition of a tempo marking. This demands that the dynamic changes happen within a specific timeline, as of course they do in real-world music. Faster or slower tempos than the one marked here may be used; each presents its own challenges.
A very thorough long tone warmup might involve playing these on every note within the instrument’s range. Each will have slightly (or severely!) different demands. For a more practical approach, consider a rotation: on day one, do these on the instrument’s lowest note, and the note a fifth above that (or some other interval), a fifth above that, and so forth. The next day, start on the second-lowest note, and the next day the note above that, and so forth.
Happy practicing!
Just one post to share this month:
Just one post to share this month:
I remember as a young college student attending a masterclass by a world-class musician. He was scornful of students spending a lot of time in practice rooms playing scales. He urged us instead to get outside and watch a sunset, and then “play the sunset.”
Advice like that has its place. But I was doing exactly as my teacher assigned: spending a lot of time in practice rooms playing scales. My teacher assigned that because it was what I needed at that stage in my development. I wouldn’t have had much success trying to “play the sunset” because I hadn’t yet learned the technique I needed.
I have my university woodwind methods students do an assignment evaluating pedagogical articles. They use a few criteria, including appropriateness for teaching beginners. The articles’ authors don’t always make that clear. In fact, I suspect many of the authors would resist the idea that their advice is level-specific. “Oh, no, my ideas apply to all students.”
I understand the appeal of that viewpoint, that good woodwind pedagogy is made of unassailable truths. But here’s a counterexample. With beginner and intermediate students, I teach that voicing is stable; you learn the “correct” voicing and then stick with it. But with more advanced students I teach that voicing is a tool to adjust tuning, response, and tone. Their technique, ear for pitch, and expressive requirements have reached a higher level, and they are ready. (I’ve addressed this two-phase approach to voicing previously.)
Masterclasses like the one I attended are often taught by very high-level performers. Their own teaching studios are filled with advanced, high-achieving graduate students. With those students, it may be productive to discuss heady philosophical or creative ideas. But the less-elite students really do need to hit a practice room and learn their scales. For them, high-level advice is pointless, frustrating, and condescending.
Consider carefully the needs of those you teach. When necessary, be clear that your teaching may be geared toward students at a particular level.