If you buy into the myth that there are only two or three “good” reeds in a box of ten, you are buying the wrong reeds. There are many, many options available to you. When I’ve got the right brand, cut, and size of reed for my mouthpiece and embouchure, easily eight play respectably well right out of the box. Within 15-20 minutes, I can adjust nine or ten to play quite well, and maybe three or four of those at recital quality. I use the steps below and nothing else.
Um, no.Don’t waste time and cane messing with the topography of the reed’s cut. With all the variation in reeds, the cut is the one thing that is really quite consistent. If you don’t like the cut, shop around some more. If you own a diagram like the one shown here, with elaborate instructions on which tiny sectors of reed you should sand, I recommend that you throw it away.
Make sure the reed is flat. Many aren’t, and one that was flat yesterday may not be flat today. A piece of 600-grit wet-dry sandpaper held against a piece of glass is the perfect tool for this. Concentrate on the part of the reed that contacts the mouthpiece’s table. For $2, I had a local glass shop cut me a 3″×4″ piece of ¼” glass, with the edges ground smooth. You can also use a mirror or window pane. A flattened reed will respond better and squeak less.
Balance the corners. This is the one exception I make for changing the reed’s cut. Well-balanced reeds have a nice clear tone and respond reliably throughout the instrument’s range and at any dynamic level. I find that balancing the corners can correct for much of the asymmetry of a typical reed. Even a reed that already seems pretty good can often be improved. Tom Ridenour’s method is dead simple and strikingly effective—required reading.
If absolutely necessary, clip the tip using a high-quality reed trimmer. I do this to maybe one in twenty reeds. I do it to make a reed feel a little stronger. Clip off the tiniest possible amount at first—a little clip goes a long way. It’s very rare that I clip off more than a tiny bit, and if I do, it rarely works out well.
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”
An important factor in improvising fluently (such as in a jazz context) is a collection of vocabulary. Broadly defined, this could include rote-memorized “licks” plus all kinds of other material: scale- or arpeggio-oriented patterns, for example. With improvisation, you don’t have the luxury of practicing your solo note-for-note; instead you have to develop a large pool of available material, and learn it so well that you can mix and match it on the fly.
If you double on multiple instruments, the vocabulary pool isn’t really portable. You can bring your improvisational ideas with you from instrument to instrument, but you won’t be able to execute them smoothly unless you have put in the practice hours on each instrument separately. If you are doubling, say, saxophone and flute, you might find that the fingerings are similar enough that you can make a few things work, but it’s too easy to paint yourself into a corner, or to catch yourself using “close enough” fingerings that really aren’t, or to play with unsatisfactory tone or intonation. To do it right, and have the colors of multiple instrumental voices available to you as an improviser, treat each instrument like it’s your only one.
I have been watching with dismay some recent online message board conversations about clarinetists picking up the saxophone and saxophonists picking up the clarinet. I am of course a big supporter of doubling, but much of the discussion seems to center around embouchure, and the language used is not only misleading but also vaguely pejorative. Clarinetists seem to regard the saxophone embouchure as “loose,” a term I think most saxophonists would take exception to, and saxophonists consider the clarinet embouchure to be “tight,” a concept I would expect clarinetists to shy away from.
I am not aware of any difference in looseness/tightness between the embouchures of the two instrument families, and can’t think of a reason why there should be one. In both cases, the embouchure—the lips and surrounding facial muscles—need to be “tight” enough to form a non-leaking seal around the mouthpiece and reed, and “loose” enough to allow the reed to vibrate at the desired amplitude (volume). The most common looseness/tightness problem I see in teaching both instruments is excessive tightness, often used in an attempt to compensate for pitch stability problems caused by poor breath support, and resulting in sluggish response, restricted dynamic range, and stuffy tone. Read More “Clarinet/saxophone doubling and “loose” and “tight” embouchures”
When I play woodwind instruments in a stress situation, such as a performance (or, back in my student days, a lesson), one of the first things affected is my breathing.
Maybe you have had this experience. The performance begins, and the breathing seems somehow off. You find yourself breathing in awkward or unaccustomed places, ending up either short of breath or too full of stale air. You end up skipping notes or whole measures of music to reset your breathing and get back on track, but panic has already set in and things spiral.
Most of our favorite practice tips and tricks are about finger technique or articulation or tone, and are meant to help ensure solid performance even when the stress kicks in. But sometimes we forget to practice breathing. Don’t let your performances be derailed by panicky breathing—practice the breaths just like you practice the notes.
Make breaths part of the process from day one. Don’t assume they will fall into place once you have learned the notes—by the time that is done, you may have unwittingly “practiced” breaths in less-than-ideal spots. Make thoughtful breathing decisions the first time you practice a new étude or repertoire piece, and mark them in. Create a habit of breathing only at the places you have marked.
You are hopefully starting your practice of the piece below tempo, so your breathing needs may change as you approach performance tempo. That’s okay—you can always change the markings as your tempo and interpretation progress. Be flexible about moving breath marks around, but disciplined about observing them.
This approach makes your chosen breaths habitual, so hopefully they are less likely to change when you are nervous or distracted. It also creates a mindset of breathing purposefully, rather than winging it.
It’s worth pointing out, too, that controlled breathing can actually reduce your body’s stress response, so practicing deliberate, relaxed breathing can help prevent the panic-breathing spiral.
I’m a little late commenting on this, but I still think it’s an issue worth addressing. Last month there was a minor scandal over an incident in a Farmington, New Mexico school orchestra program, where a beginning violinist was informed that she would not be allowed to use her own, um, unique instrument. Most of the reporting on the story took a similar tone to that employed by the Los Angeles Times:
The gift violin was a surprise from her grandmother. The color was purple, the girl’s favorite.
Lopez encouraged her daughter to stand up for what she believed in. “I told her, ‘Camille, you’re not like everyone else. We’re all different.'”
“She’s done with the orchestra class,” Lopez said. “She switched out. She no longer plays.”
Lopez said she’ll never know whether the decision ended the career of a budding Yo-Yo Ma. “I’d pay for private lessons if I could afford them,” Lopez said. “But it doesn’t matter now, I guess. Camille is taking choir now.”
The Times story sets up the uninformed reader for outrage: an underprivileged but spunky girl, a gift from a grandmother, stifled individuality, personal “beliefs” under attack, abandoned dreams, and a stodgy, stuffy establishment.
But a more careful reading of the Times story reveals some details that won’t escape the attention of music educators.
There are two basic fingerings a clarinetist can use for B4:
option 1
option 2
But there are some other possibilities, such as adding either of the pinky C keys. Doing this doesn’t open or close any additional toneholes, so the note isn’t affected at all:
option 3
option 4
While the extra pinky finger is technically unnecessary, it is sometimes convenient and conducive to smoother technique. For example, option 4 is frequently taught as a “standard” B fingering in beginning band method books. That is probably because it works well in a C major scale:
When moving from A to B, this only adds one extra finger, the right hand pinky, to the B. Since there are already several fingers of the right hand moving in the same direction (down onto keys), this is only a minimal issue. And the movement from B to C is very simple: just release the left pinky.
The same sequence can be played without the extra key:
This is very slightly advantageous for A to B, since there is one fewer finger to move. But it introduces a more significant complication for B to C, since there is a “flip-flop:” the left pinky is lifting up as the right pinky is pressing down. A good clarinetist can execute this successfully, but it’s a little risky, since fingers on different hands are moving in different directions. There’s a possibility of finger mistiming that can result in an audible blip—a moment when both fingers are up together, producing a brief D5.
So there are advantages to using “extra” pinky fingers in some cases, but it doesn’t make sense in others. Some of my students stumble over sequences like this:
The right-hand pinky isn’t needed for the B, but some of my students use it out of habit whenever they see that note. Then they run into trouble when they have to slide the pinky to a different key for the E-flat. Advancing clarinetists should be aware of the fingerings they are using, and make each choice purposeful. Careful, consistent scale and arpeggio practice can help reinforce and habituate good fingering choices.
By the way, for the sake of completeness, you can add the opposite-hand C/F key for any of these written notes on the clarinet:
Adding pinky keys to any other pinky note will affect pitch.
I personally use, and have had great success, with the Perfecta-Reed micrometer. I’m able to balance not just the tip, but the entire reed. It takes me a little more time, but I am able to get most of the reeds in my box to play substantially better using it.
I completely agree with everything else you’ve mentioned other than the ‘topography doesn’t matter’ comment.
Hi Michael – thanks for stopping by and sharing what works for you. (Note: the PerfectaReed can be found here—scroll down).
To clarify: my point is not at all that topography “doesn’t matter;” my point is that what comes out of the box is essentially what the manufacturer intended, topography-wise. And if the design of the reed doesn’t suit me, then I should probably just buy different reeds.
I was recently looking through The Instrumentalist for pedagogical articles to give out to my Woodwind Methods course and came across a wonderful one called “Selecting Clarinet Reeds” by Robert Miller. It was published in the August 1991 edition.
Very concise, insightful, and thorough, and it goes along with everything you’ve mentioned here. E-mail me if you’d like a copy of it. I scanned it for my course’s Blackboard site.
For what it is worth, balancing my clarinet reeds (and to a lesser extent saxophone) has made my ensemble playing so much better! I used to struggle in orchestra with having a comfortable reed for a passage, resting for 40 measures, and then really struggling through a solo/soli and feeling quite embarassed! (and dont even mention something like Bolero where its such a long waiting game before you even play!). Learning to properly balance a reed has really helped with the necessity to re-position and hydrate my reeds 10 times in one concert. I typically use a combination of a bevel edge reed knife and 600grit sandpaper when i work on the backs of a reed. I do notice for alto saxophone reeds I almost always take some cane out of the “F” section in your little reed diagram. I don’t know that I really follow those charts word for word, but taking some cane out of that gives me a less resistant reed in the lower register. I tend to like thinner reeds than most so it could just be a personal thing (or maybe i just need to learn to play with more air to support a thicker reed but at 26 i think i have all the air i’m going to get).
I personally use, and have had great success, with the Perfecta-Reed micrometer. I’m able to balance not just the tip, but the entire reed. It takes me a little more time, but I am able to get most of the reeds in my box to play substantially better using it.
I completely agree with everything else you’ve mentioned other than the ‘topography doesn’t matter’ comment.
MP
Hi Michael – thanks for stopping by and sharing what works for you. (Note: the PerfectaReed can be found here—scroll down).
To clarify: my point is not at all that topography “doesn’t matter;” my point is that what comes out of the box is essentially what the manufacturer intended, topography-wise. And if the design of the reed doesn’t suit me, then I should probably just buy different reeds.
I was recently looking through The Instrumentalist for pedagogical articles to give out to my Woodwind Methods course and came across a wonderful one called “Selecting Clarinet Reeds” by Robert Miller. It was published in the August 1991 edition.
Very concise, insightful, and thorough, and it goes along with everything you’ve mentioned here. E-mail me if you’d like a copy of it. I scanned it for my course’s Blackboard site.
For what it is worth, balancing my clarinet reeds (and to a lesser extent saxophone) has made my ensemble playing so much better! I used to struggle in orchestra with having a comfortable reed for a passage, resting for 40 measures, and then really struggling through a solo/soli and feeling quite embarassed! (and dont even mention something like Bolero where its such a long waiting game before you even play!). Learning to properly balance a reed has really helped with the necessity to re-position and hydrate my reeds 10 times in one concert. I typically use a combination of a bevel edge reed knife and 600grit sandpaper when i work on the backs of a reed. I do notice for alto saxophone reeds I almost always take some cane out of the “F” section in your little reed diagram. I don’t know that I really follow those charts word for word, but taking some cane out of that gives me a less resistant reed in the lower register. I tend to like thinner reeds than most so it could just be a personal thing (or maybe i just need to learn to play with more air to support a thicker reed but at 26 i think i have all the air i’m going to get).