“Problems” vs. solutions

I often see this kind of thing in woodwind pedagogical books, workshop handouts, and lecture notes:

Common clarinet problems

  • embouchure too loose
  • chin not flat
  • fingers not curved enough

This bothers me because it’s really not clear that these are “problems.” Would you have a student tighten a “too loose” embouchure if they sound great and play with ease and control? Would you insist on a flatter chin or more curved fingers if there weren’t some persuasive reason to do so?

Real problems in woodwind playing generally have some audible result: notes that don’t respond well, or are out of tune, or have an uncharacteristic tone, or come too late because the fingers didn’t arrive in time. Alterations to embouchure, hand position, and so forth are solutions to specific issues, not commandments to be preached and enforced indiscriminately. Your doctor doesn’t give out a standard grab bag of medications to every patient—he or she (hopefully) finds out what your symptoms are and prescribes something appropriate (or tells you you don’t need any pills at all).

Diagnose problems mostly with your ears, not with a checklist of questionable dicta, and not with a picture from a textbook of what good playing should look like. Then offer solutions that fit the problems.

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  • Stale air

    The “stale air” phenomenon afflicts oboists (sometimes clarinetists and others). It can be hard to relate to if you haven’t experienced it.

    Here’s how it happens. (The “math” and “science” here are very simplified for clarity.)

    The oboist breathes in a lungful of air. The air is about 20% oxygen and 80% other gases. The oboist’s body starts absorbing the oxygen and replacing it with carbon dioxide.

    The oboist starts to play. The oboe reed has a small opening in it, so the air leaves the oboist’s lungs slowly.

    A few moments later, the oboist’s body has replaced the oxygen with carbon dioxide. But the player’s lungs are still, say, 50% full. The oboist’s brain needs oxygen and starts urgently demanding a breath.

    The oboist tries, but his or her lungs are still 50% full of “stale” (un-oxygenated) air. He or she can only get a half-breath of “fresh” oxygen-rich air. Now the player’s lungs contain 10% oxygen, which isn’t going to last long.

    This cycle repeats a few times while the oboist gets more and more uncomfortable.

    The oboist finally panics and quits playing to “reset” his or her breathing and get some oxygen.

    A well-meaning educator sees the oboist struggling with breathing. He or she unhelpfully pencils in a few more breath marks. This is going to make the problem worse as the oboist takes even more unneeded breaths.

    The solution to this is to figure out an outlet for the stale air. (Taking smaller breaths isn’t a great solution because it encourages weaker breath support.) In some cases it may be necessary to use a “breath” to actually exhale stale air. Then, after playing a little more, get a satisfying breath into emptier lungsIn other cases, it might be a better solution to do a quick out-in breath.

    Stale air isn’t something that people encounter day-to-day. So it’s not well understood, sometimes even by oboists and other wind players who deal with it. Being aware of the problem makes it relatively simple to solve.

  • Making sense of third-octave flute fingerings

    I recall as a beginning flutist (coming from background in saxophone) finding the third-octave fingerings to be a confusing, illogical jumble, but they do actually make some sense. There is an incorrect explanation for these fingerings that I hear every so often, and have seen published on a couple of flute-related blogs recently. It goes something like this: the flute’s third-octave fingerings are some kind of combination of two different first/second-octave fingerings. For example:

    ta4 + te5 = te6 ?
    1424179983 1424179997 1424180007

    Or…

    tbf4 + tf5 = tf6 ?
    1424180013 1424180018 1424180777

    If I squint my eyes just right I can sort of see how this almost makes sense fingerings-wise and overtones-wise, but ultimately this system is unnecessarily confusing and also doesn’t reflect acoustical realities.

    Here’s a better way to look at third-octave flute fingerings: they are the same as the first/second octave fingerings, with a vent opened. This is very similar to how upper registers are achieved on the reed instruments: by adding an octave or register key or releasing a whisper key to open a vent. Since the flute doesn’t have dedicated vent holes, toneholes are used.

    For some of the third octave notes, additional keys must be added or subtracted to improve pitch, tone, or response; again this is analogous to the systems used for the reed instruments. But here are the simplest examples of opening single vents for the third octave:

    te5  open vent te6
    1424179997 1424183194 1424180007
    tf5 open vent tf6
    1424180018 1424183208 1424180777
    tfs5 open vent tfs6
    1424184167 1424183218 1424184173
    tg5 open vent tg6
    1424184151 1424183227 1424184158

    It is probably worth pointing out that having any “system” for remembering fingerings is just a crutch; for a performing musician, the only practical “system” is to thoroughly habituate them to the point that no conscious thought is required. Practice carefully and be on the alert for dubious pedagogy.

    Make your own handsome woodwind fingering diagrams with the Fingering Diagram Builder

  • What would go wrong if you played louder?

    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.

  • |

    Does woodwind doubling prevent you from being the “best?”

    My recent post about woodwind doubling has been cited lately on various social media sites to fuel discussions over whether doubling is a good or acceptable pursuit.

    Many of those arguing that woodwind doubling is a bad idea raise the issue that the “best” players of such-and-such instrument don’t double, and you can’t be the “best” at such-and-such instrument if you are doubling. If you think that, I could name a dozen prominent doublers who might change your mind, but that’s not really the important point.

    As an undergraduate saxophone major, I daydreamed occasionally about being the “best” saxophonist. For me it probably wouldn’t have been a realistic goal, and the pursuit of it wouldn’t have led me to happiness, nor to success as I would have seen it through that lens.

    When I made the decision to commit myself to woodwind doubling as a career path instead, I knew that would mean my progress on the saxophone would slow down. But it has been a very worthwhile choice for me: I get to play interesting music in a variety of settings, I get to spend all day at my university teaching job talking about the music and instruments that fascinate me, and I even have an audience of like-minded folks who stop by to read my blog posts. Now it’s hard for me to imagine myself being content to play just saxophone music all day.

    Most of us won’t land a top orchestral job or tour the world as a concert soloist. And, believe it or not, not all of us want that anyway. We should be encouraging aspiring musicians to seek out niches that they enjoy and are motivated by.

    Very, very few of us will ever be the “best,” so if that is your goal then I wish you luck. But for many of us, myself included, that’s not the goal at all. Mine is to have a successful and enjoyable career doing what I love, and so far, so good.

  • Q&A: Woodwind doubling

    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.

    What are the highlights of your career related to doubling thus far?

    Hello, I was wondering about how feel about what you play as a woodwind doubler vs as a single instrumentalist. Do you feel like you’re still able to connect musically with things like pit orchestra as opposed to solo repertoire? Or what other options are there for woodwind doublers to express themselves?

    I’m not a Broadway pit orchestra doubler, or a Los Angeles studio doubler, or even working in a medium-sized market. When the opportunities have arisen I’ve done the usual journeyman doubling work: playing local musical theater, regional orchestras and chamber groups and big bands, church gigs, and rock and blues bands. I enjoy all of these, and in particular I enjoy the variety in my performing career.

    For me the biggest highlights have been connected to my academic career. This includes my attempts at bringing doubling to the recital hall, doing recitals (on my own college campus and others) of concert repertoire on multiple instruments. It also includes my teaching of multiple instruments in a studio setting, as well as woodwind methods courses, plus the textbook I wrote. This blog has been a highlight, too, that has put me in touch with woodwind doublers around the world, including some of my heroes.

    How does someone with a full time job, kids, etc. who does doubling as a hobby effectively split practice time among all of their instruments? I’m usually able to practice 1 hour per day. Should I split my session among instruments, or focus on one a day? What’s a good rotation? Any tips or tricks are appreciated!

    There’s never enough time in a day for a woodwind doubler. The answers to your questions will probably depend on you: what are your goals? do you want to play all your instruments equally, or do you want to have a “primary” instrument? are you practicing for specific performances or with specific goals in mind, or are you just trying to maintain and develop your skills in a general way? I think the answers to these questions will help clarify for you how you should be allocating your time.

    For me personally, an hour is just enough to feel like I’m making some amount of progress on a single instrument, so I suppose if I were in your situation I would mostly practice one instrument per day. Your results may vary. If you’re practicing for general skill development, I do think some kind of pre-planned rotation is valuable, though I don’t think the specifics are important. For me, just having some kind of purposeful rotation makes sure I don’t fall into a rut of, say, grabbing my flute every time because it’s easier than getting a reed wet.


    Thanks for your questions! It’s extra special to me to hear from fellow woodwind doublers.

    More 10-year anniversary Q&A

  • Doubling reminders for the day

    Non-doublers often seem to think that the most amazing thing about doubling is keeping all the fingerings straight. I don’t find that to be a major problem; the keywork of each instrument feels different enough in my hands that I think I tend to switch into the right fingering mode automatically.

    It’s the other stuff that’s a problem. I find I often need to give myself a few reminders as I’m setting down one instrument and picking up the next. Here’s the stuff that has been going through my mind lately—maybe one or more of these will click for you, too. Read More “Doubling reminders for the day”

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