It's that time of year again. Students are preparing for Regionals, County Honor groups, All State, etc. Nutcracker is in full swing. A lot of us are preparing music for the upcoming year. I know I'm preparing a recital of my own, plus performances at the Meg Quigley symposium and (potentially) IDRS. So, naturally, practice habits and techniques have been top of mind for me in a very big way.

For years, I've been telling students the things I was told when I was their age: "Practice this part slowly. Don't move on until you get it. Isolate the problem areas." This got me to thinking about the way in which I practice. And when I connected my practice habits with my instruction, I noticed the ineffectiveness I was engraining in my students.

The first time I told one of my students not to practice slowly, she looked at me like I was crazy. "But, my band teacher always says to play things slowly." My response to her was that slow practice is a great tool to have and I use it occasionally. But, I find it more effective, particularly for situations involving high stress (e.g., auditions, recitals, etc) to practice in alternative ways. I heard her concerns echoed amongst the majority of my students. But, when they actually applied my practice strategies to their etudes, scales, excerpts, and the like, there was marked improvement. Many of my students made improvements on sections they had struggled with for weeks and months. I wasn't such a crazy teacher after they realized they had improved.

The Lego Approach
Practicing is like building with LEGO bricks. The finished product is a sum of its parts. So, why not practice like that? My favorite way to practice is to strip the passage or phrase down to  a base level and then slowly build from there. However, I always keep the metronome at the tempo I want to perform at. My justification for this is that, when playing at the intended tempo and not slower, you develop the appropriate muscle memory. It is true that slow practice also develops muscle memory. I find, though, that slow practice develops slow muscle memory. That is why many of my students (and myself included when I was younger) can play something great 10-20 metronome markings under tempo, but struggle when the tempo is brought up. They are playing the whole phrase under tempo and, thus, developing muscle memory associated with that tempo and that tempo only. 

Let's apply this to an excerpt I recently coached a student on for college auditions:

The first phrase of the Overture to Mozart's Le nozze di Figaro. One of those excerpts that must always been in my ready-to-go pile. So this student had been struggling with the tempo (obviously) and getting everything to connect seamlessly in order to match the celli. He slowed the whole thing down to about half speed and could play it well...until he brought the tempo back up. So, this is what we did to mitigate the difference in tempo and increase the effectiveness of his practice time.

First, strip the passage down to the barest bones. In the case of Figaro​, it is the downbeat of every measure.

This is very easy to play in tempo and the success rate is 100% all of the time. Doing it this way also reinforces where the articulation is to be placed. Many students (and professionals) roll their eyes at this point because this is so​ easy. But that's kind of the point. Make the thing so easy you knock a lot of the psychological blocks which prevent you from playing the excerpt correctly in the first place.

Once you start to add more elements to a passage or excerpt, you need to be judicious about how to do it. I take two basic approaches. The first being to add thing to the end of the bar, then the front, and so on until you've built the entire thing back to together to the middle. The other being to add things sequentially until you've built the passage up front to back. For the Figaro ​excerpt, I add things from the back of the measure, back and forth, until I reach the middle. This creates connection between each measure, rather than having each measure be isolated. One thing to mention about this: articulation in the initial stages becomes a bit ambiguous until you get to a point where you can reintroduce articulations. For Figaro, the first couple of stages require the slurs to be eradicated. We add them back in later, but that is one slight pitfall depending on the excerpt.

​So, by this method, step 2 would look like this--again, still at performance tempo:

 From here, you simply add notes back to the measures. I strive to for myself (and my more advanced students) to add consistently, meaning add the same thing to each measure at performance tempo. Here's an example of what I mean:

And so on and so forth until you've pieced the whole thing back together. All at performance tempo​.

Step 1: Soak your cane

Step 2: Bevel

I go back and forth between using a file and using a knife depending (mostly) on the density of the cane. I was originally taught to use a wide flat file at a 27-33 degree angle (that I have never once measured in my life). The point of beveling is to allow the tube to form as a complete circle. If you don't bevel, the sides won't line up and leaking will occur at the bocal. 

Step 3: Wrap the Top Third/Half

Step 4: Wrap the rest of the reed

Step 5: Snap, Crackle, Pop!

Stay tuned for part 2 once these reeds are done forming!

Now that I've moved in to a new place with a larger, dedicated bassooning space, I can finally get to my reed experimentation! Inspired by Christin Schillinger's book and Eryn Oft's amazing blog and YouTube channel, I've decided to dive right in with reassessing my procedures in blank making. 

My basic blank making method is as follows:

• Soak cane in hot water overnight
• Bevel
• Install shoulder (on easel)
• Install wire marks (on easel)
• Fold and bind w/ rubber bands
• Let dry on forming mandrel
• Unwrap binding; install wires (3)
• Crimp bottom (under third wire)
• Thread wrap and seal
• Let dry on drying rack
• Ream; re-tighten wires
• Clip

In trolling the interwebs for the past few weeks, I've downloaded and copied some 20+ reed making methods from various bassoonists and university teachers. Overall, the techniques are basically the same--which makes sense when you consider the reed needs to get from a straight piece of cane to a round reed. But, subtle differences can make a large difference as every bassoonist ever will tell you.

I decided to combine my methodology with that of other bassoonists in the Western US first, if for no other reason than geographic prejudice. In all, I made 10 blanks using the basic blank construction method I'll outline below shortly. Within these blanks, there are three variations having to do with wires.

The basic construction method was mine combined with Elizabeth Ball Crawford's reed making method. Prof. Crawford is the Bassoon professor at BYU-Idaho and before that was in Montana with the Chinook Winds and various institutions. Here's how I modified the construction method:

• Soak in hot water overnight (I didn't use the CrockPot method of EBC)
• Bevel**
  • A note about beveling--I tried EBC's method of beveling after forming the tube, but after two blanks not quite meshing up, I went back to my method of beveling prior to forming.
• Install shoulder
• Install wire marks
• Fold and bind with rubber bands**
  • A note about binding--I have had the last batch of blanks (and many many blanks throughout my career) slip blades. I read that it could be an issue with binding. I had always bound reeds with rubber bands, wrapping them clockwise. For this batch, I bound the upper third with rubber bands, wrapping clockwise, and the bottom two-thirds with rubber bands, wrapping counter-clockwise.
• Heat forming madrel tip with light for 1-2 minutes; insert tip in to reed; let dry
• Unwrap binding; install wires (3)
• Crimp bottom under third wire
• Thread wrap and seal
• Let dry on drying rack
• Ream
• Clip

When I first met Peter Kolkay, he used an electric mandrel which purported to burn the reed in to shape (with no real damage done to the cane). EBC's method of lighting the forming mandrel tip with a lighter is a GREAT substitute. I found that heating it and the inserting it in to a fully wrapped reed did make it easier to form without cracking through the tube. It also allowed the pretty tightly wrapped piece of cane to go further on the mandrel with less force, keeping the butt opening consistent despite any inconsistancies of the rubber band bind.

Variations
As I said earlier, I constructed all of the blanks in the same way (save for the two I tried beveling after forming--I just can't figure it out). But I did use variations in the wire, based on some posts Eryn Oft made. 

All of my wires were placed (from the shoulder) @ 27mm, 18mm, and 6mm. The first, base level reed, uses a double wrapped first wire, second wire, and third wire. I made three that use a triple wrapped wire for the first wire, and three that use a triple wrapped wire for the second wire. Eryn explains the triple wrapped first wire better than I ever could (frankly she does a lot of things better than I do!) and I'm very excited to see the results.

 I've seen quite a few articles going around about musician etiquette and how to not get fired. One example is this article, written by my good friend and mentor Dr. Janis McKay. These articles are amazing and teach people (including me!) a lot about being a colleague. We are trained to be performers, soloists, teachers, etc...but it is very hard to learn how to be a good colleague.

Even harder, in my opinion, is to learn how to be a good artist-employee. This article is written from two perspectives. 20% of this article comes from my experience as a professional bassoonist. The other 80% of this article is based on my experiences as a professional personnel manager, contractor, and employer. 
​

As many of you may know, I recently finished my DMA in bassoon at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. My final document research was an analysis of Poulenc's Trio for oboe, bassoon, and piano through the lens of sexual politics. In short, my reading of the Poulenc Trio finds that Poulenc uses the bassoon as the representation of the gay voice in the socio-political sphere by means of tonal manipulation, phrase interruption, and other techniques; the piano as the heteronormative discourse often assumed in gendered/sexualized readings of music; and the oboe as a force attempting to balance the two, much as Poulenc tried to do in his own life. The document is forthcoming from the University of Nevada and you better believe when it's available, I'll link to it.

So I was very pleased when it was announced that Sandro Caldini had found and edited a second​ edition of Poulenc's Trio. This is so exciting as both a scholar and performer because the changes Poulenc made really bring the bassoon and oboe to the fore, eliminate some of the doubling in the piano, and truly mark this piece as Poulenc's departure from the shackles of pianistic wind writing!

You can check out the video here which includes Sandro's lecture as well as a full performance by Saxton Rose, Nicholas Daniel, and Naruhiko Kawaguchi:

Lately, I've come across a lot of articles and blog posts about how to win auditions, how to land a job, how to be happy with your practicing, etc... While these article are meant to be encouraging, I view them through my trademark lens of cynicism. These types of articles, time and time again, tell you that practicing and listening to recordings and having a good reed and being hyper professional and reminding yourself of your strengths in times of sorrow will eventually lead to a job.

But you know what? 

Maybe it won't. Actually, it probably won't.

During my academic and professional career, it has been engrained in to my psyche that hard work and determination will eventually pay off. Getting advanced degrees will lead to full time university employment. Making 30 reeds a week would perfect my reed making technique to a precise science. Completing the Milde or Weissenborn or Orefici or Oubradous would mean I could do anything, that I'd be invincible. Anything less than that meant I was a failure. 

So, what did all of that lead to? Some of it paid off and some of it didn't. I've been very fortunate to perform and make money doing so, including a long term stint with The Redlands Symphony and substitute opportunities with the Las Vegas Philharmonic. I've also been very fortunate to see the other side of the arts business in my administrative roles. I have a substantial amount of teaching experience at every grade level, including college, and am very lucky to have that under my belt.

But then again, I'm still baffled by reed making. I don't really understand much about performance practice before the Classical period. My knowledge of non-bassoon repertoire is narrow and I have a very focused agenda when it comes to analysis and interpretation. I have failed at a lot of things and there comes a point where too much becomes too much.

If you've failed in your life at anything--making a reed, playing an error free performance, riding a bicycle, whatever--your natural reaction was probably one of frustration and despair. Something I try to embrace is this mantra which I have as the backdrop on my phone:

"The Most We Can Do Is Our Very Best"

But if you're doing your best, and you feel like your best isn't good enough, you may want to give up. That's how I felt all through my undergrad and my Master's degree. "I'll never be as good as..." or "If only I could just....then I'd be happy," were thoughts that constantly flooded my head.

When I first started making reeds under the tutelage of Dr. Carolyn Beck, I used a composite of ABS plastic reduced in acetone. It worked well, sealed all the little cracks and kept the wires in place...forever. But, it is highly toxic, you have to seal reeds outside, and if it gets on you--forget about it!!

However, Duco is getting harder and harder to find in stores. So, I remember a few blog posts I read about glue guns. So, I stopped by Michael's today and decided to try some stuff!

​Here's what I bought: 

2 packs of silk embroidery thread (one pack fluorescents, one pack variegated), a glue gun, and a ton (OK, it was 100) of glue sticks. 

It took me a minute to get the hang of it, but here are my overall impressions:

I can use thread still to get me the color I love! The glue gun is a little messy and the reeds look like heck, but I like not feeling light headed!!!

​More to come once I finish them!!

In preparing for my next recital, I took to YouTube to find recordings of some newer pieces that weren't available on Spotify. Specifically, I was looking for a recording of David Amram's Bassoon Concerto, which I fully intend on programming for my November recital at UNLV. I wasn't prepared for what I found.

The only recording of the concerto I found on YouTube is from Canadian bassoonist Eric Mohr. It was brilliant. And then I went stalking and found that all of his videos are AMAZING. Check it out here if you have some spare time. It's quite the treat. Bravo, Eric!

The trio I play with, Metalwood Trio, recently was contracted to play a wedding at a golf resort in Vegas. As the staff arranger (which is a fancy title for I arranged everything), I arranged several pieces for us. My favorite arrangement is Wedding Day at Troldhaugen, originally for piano by Edvard Grieg. I liked it so much, I thought I'd share it with all of you---for free!!!

Download the score and parts below:

Please enjoy! If you perform it, let me know!!

This week's #freshfindsfriday is a special one for me. This is the 3rd movement ("By the Sea") from Four Atmospheres of Edgar Allan Poe by English composer Jonathan Ellson. This piece is special for me because, in 2007 I commissioned it! This was the first commission I undertook and was so excited at the way it came out. I haven't actually ever performed it (for whatever reason), so I thought I'd share some of it here for you!