Treadmills and Detours

I find that most lessons fall into one of two categories.

Type #1:

Typically, I assign most of my students material to work on for the next lesson. For older students, this might be as simple as "work something up for next week, maybe some excerpts.."

For younger students it is usually much more structured.

In that following week, my initial game plan is to go over what they've prepared and then prep for the following week.

This kind of lesson I would call the "Happy Treadmill Lesson"

Type #2:

But in other lessons something important comes up and we need to step off the treadmill to focus in on something. With luck, this results in some sort of minor breakthrough, replacing an older bad habit with a newer good habit.

Most common detour: making discoveries in the arena of air/relaxation.

This kind of lesson I would call the "Detour Lesson."

I often find it necessary to nudge students onto that happy treadmill. I believe there is tremendous value in the simple act of learning new pieces on a regular basis.

Generally, I find that students make less progress overall when they get stuck in a rut, either pounding away at the same piece week after week or constantly having new "revelations" about their playing.

Every now and then, I have seen a "revelations" student who was a strong self-guided learner. In those cases I try to get out of the way and let them run with it. However, other students get stuck, fretting constantly about certain details of their playing, possibly avoiding the challenges of simply having to learn new material.

Hey, in the real world, you've got deadlines. Reflection and detours can be useful but there's also something to be learned in forging ahead to meet that deadline.

In the end, you need some of both.

Before or After?

A colleague of mine mentioned an experimental approach he was planning to try this semester.

Basically, he would devote the lesson to coaching a student on new pieces before the student had time to practice them. You might call this doing "intro work."

I think the most common teaching/learning sequence goes like this..

1. teacher assigns it
2. student works on it
3. student plays it in a lesson and teacher works on it

This new model (if I understood correctly) would be..

1. teacher coaches student on it in a lesson
2. student works on it
3. in the next lesson, teacher coaches student on new pieces

Now, I know what you're thinking: where's the accountability? Well, I believe that comes in the form of playing tests a few times each semester in which the student must be able to play the pieces for a grade.

Bear in mind that these are college students I'm talking about. I realize that presenting a piece to a middle school band with regular rehearsals is a completely different animal.

It is an interesting idea. After all, it is harder to re-learn something after having learned it incorrectly. Why not get students off to a good start?

Of course, in some ideal world, we would have unlimited time for lessons and could devote quality time to both ends of the equation.

But usually, the clock is the enemy and another student will be waiting outside your door in one hour.

No big conclusions here because there is no one right way to always do it.

Still, I think it's something worth thinking about...

How much time do we, as teachers,
devote to the "before" side of teaching and how much to the "after" side?

The Bank Account of Good Will

This is not strictly a 'trombone' posting but more of a life posting. In my interactions with my students, I sometimes envision a sort of 'good will' bank balance. Each new student starts out with a modest positive balance.

When they do things like show up prepared for lessons or actively participate in master class, their balance goes up.

When they do things like miss lessons or show up late/unprepared for ensemble rehearsals, their balance goes down.

Suppose someone calls me looking for a recommendation. Something like, "I need a trombonist to play this gig..."

To whom do I give that work? Well, I certainly want one of my better players to do it. But suppose that better player also has a low balance in their 'good will' bank account? Can I trust them to show up on time, be well-prepared, be professional in their behavior?

What about when students come to me asking for letters of recommendation?

Unlike a real bank account, I don't keep a specific written record. However, I (and I suspect most applied teachers) have a pretty sense of whose balance is up and whose balance is down.

When to Stop?

Teaching is more art than science.

One of the things I love about my job is that I am constantly challenged to revise my craft. When I see former students, I sometimes feel the urge to apologize because I've learned so much about teaching since they were my students.

One of the fundamental questions I deal with is...

When to stop a student and when

to let them play through?

This semester, I feel as if I've made a bit of a breakthrough in the pacing of lessons. After beginning with the usual variety of 'fundamentals' things, I hand it over to the student (who has already laid out a basic plan for the semester) and ask, "OK, what do you want to play?"

Whatever they choose, I pop their SD card into my recorder and they essentially perform the piece without me stopping them.

When they're done, we both sit down at my desk with the music and listen back to the recording. Now I can stop as often as I need/want to and point out details. I often back up the recording to point out something. I also like to pause our listening and have them jump back up to play through a passage differently.

It is interesting to see their reaction when, after we've really worked on a phrase, we double back to the recording and listen again to how they played it that first time. Often, they have moved from being unaware of something to being keenly (and uncomfortably) aware of it.

Generally, this also means that I've slowed down the pace of the lesson, choosing to patiently address something that needs attention rather than feeling quite so compelled to move on to the next item.

This isn't the only thing I do or the only way I teach but, in general, I've been doing it a lot more and am liking the results.

Surfing on the breeze

It seems I never have time for elaborate blog posts so here's a short one.

So many people pinch off the air as they buzz. There is a standard trick I like to use.

1. Blow silent air through the mouthpiece (against a pinwheel or something similar). If you're using a pinwheel, don't make it spin at full tilt. A nice steady breeze should do the trick.
2. Start blowing that same silent air and then gently bring the lips together. Hopefully they'll buzz.
3. Make sure the pinwheel doesn't stop spinning when the note starts. Many, many students start the buzz and instinctively pinch off the air when starting the note. I'm surprised how often, when they finally get it right and buzz with a nice full sound, they say to me, "Wow, that feels completely different."

Band directors, go get yourself a pinwheel and use it with those starting students!

The first habit is the one that sticks. If their first experience is a buzz with freely moving air, they are likely to avoid major trouble down the road.

What's the Big Idea? - Fall 2010

Here's something new I've been trying in lessons this semester. All the students have a "big idea" journal (actually, they have two: one on paper and one online). While most of the entries come out of lessons, sometimes they do add in some of their revelations from practicing.

Now that we are at the halfway point of our semester, I thought it might be interesting to put together a random listing of "Big Ideas"

• Think about dynamic interest; Play long notes with musical interest.
• For technical licks: 1. Find the trouble spot (don’t always start from the beginning 2. For practice tempo, think hippos and cheetahs
• Stop saying “I can’t” Yes, some things are hard - do you want to live without challenges?;
• When you do long tones - start every note centered with confidence;
• Stand tall, bring instrument to you. Don’t tuck under the stand.
• To improve, you must remember;
• Fundamentals are the key to everything
• If it doesn’t sound good, break it down to something more simple. Get to the point where it sounds good (get creative with it) and then take baby steps back again;
• Using drones helps with intonation, who would have thought?
• Insert the wrong note on purpose to improve slide accuracy ;
• Don’t give on your long notes - that’s your chance to sing;
• In loud, dotted rhythms look out for the little guy; mentally connect it to the following note so they are one thing.
  
  
  Enough for now. I hope some of this has been good food for thought.
  
  
  Feel free to contribute any recent "big ideas" in your comments.
  
  
  
  

Kindling Wood vs Crutches

Wood is useful stuff.

Consider two possible uses for wood: kindling wood or crutches.

Kindling starts a fire. Crutches help support you.

Teachers are useful people.

Consider two possible uses for teachers: kindling wood or crutches.

As teachers, should we lay back and let students figure it out for themselves or nuture them along?

Suppose I have a student who sometimes oversleeps for lessons. His/Her lesson is at 9:30 am and I suspect they won't make it. It is 9:00 am. What should I do? Should I call them to make sure they are awake??

If I think of myself as kindling wood, then I'm trying to get a fire to burn in this student. Thus I want to help them along. A "kindling wood" teacher makes the call (possibly waking them up).

If I realize that the more I do for a student, the more I become a crutch and they never develop the self-discipline to make it on the own. To not become a "crutch," a teacher doesn't make the call (possibly letting them oversleep).

So these two uses for wood are a symbol for the fundamental question faced by all teachers: is it "sink or swim" or is it "helping hands."

Of course, there is no one answer but it something worth considering.

I need a new door

So, thinking back on this past year, I've come to a startling realization.

Apparently, I need a new door on my office. It seems that the current model is outfitted with some kind of "mind-wipe" module (possibly alien technology).

I try to drive home those big points for students to remember. I try to inspire them.

They seem to get it. They seem inspired.

Then they walk out through that door....

...and their minds are wiped!

A week later they return. I consult my notes before they come in so I'm ready to go. I say something like, "So, how's it going with that new relaxed way of blowing? [You know, the one that was such a breakthrough? You know, the one that made you say, "Wow, this is so much easier!"?]"

I watch their faces for some glimmer of recognition.

[pause]

"Oh yeah, about that...." [voice trails off guiltily]

It must be the door.

Maybe I can develop some kind of "Mind Wipe Defense System [MWDS]"
How about this?

Hmmm, I wonder how that would go over with the studio....

I'm going to have to think about this some more. The critical question is this:

How to bridge that gap between the end of the lesson
and the first practice session after?
Those wonderful flashes of recognition and inspiration...
how can they be in the forefront of the mind
as that first practice session begins?

Record - Work it Out - *then* listen back

Here's a new sequence I've tried in a few lessons.

1. The student plays while I record.
2. Before we listen to the recording, I point out the detail I wish to focus on and I get them to notice and improve.
3. Then, we listen to the recording.

The change is that steps 2 and 3 are a swap from the old way which was: Record-Listen-Work it Out.

Why do I like this new approach? As we work out the detail in question, the student's ear becomes more focused.

One example might be the tendency to "twah" during a moving legato line. They're doing it, but at first they don't hear it.

I focus in on a small section and "take out the magnifying glass" to help them hear that elusive "twah" habit. Once their ear is sensitized to it (and they're playing it better), I play back the recording and they can really hear the problem clearly.

Anyway, for you teachers out there, it's a sequence that may seem counter-intuitive but I've seen some nice results.

The Ripple Effect

Here's something I like to mention to my secondary trombone classes...

Let's say such a class has 10 students. If each student has a career as a band director, let's guess that each year they will encounter roughly 40 new students. Over a career of, say 30 years, each student will directly impact the lives of 1,200 people.

Multiply that by the 10 students in the class and I would guess that what I teach a single secondary trombone class might impact the lives of 12,000 people.

(Not to mention the small percentage of those 12,000 people who, in turn, might do some teaching of their own.)

So, if I teach something dumb like: "Mouthpiece pressure isn't important. Don't worry about it."
Think of how that one bad idea ripples outward over time.

(no, I don't teach that)

Of course, I hope I can pass along something good.

Here's one example which I picked up at en ETW masterclass given by Randy Campora, bass trombonist of the Baltimore Symphony.

Think of the corners of your embouchure as the flagpole, anchored in cement.
Think of your lips as the flag, blowing in the breeze.

I don't know if this was original with Randy but that's where I got it. In other words, the ripple passed from him to me. I include this in my handouts to my secondary trombone classes and sometimes even include it as a quiz question. Rarely do any students miss it.

So, if I teach this class for 20 years, this one idea could conceivably impact 240,000 people.

And now the ripple has passed through me to you....

The Crutch Paradox

Classes have ended and it's the time of year when I turn my thoughts to what I want to get done over the summer and what changes I want to implement next year.

Of course, my list of things I want to accomplish over the summer is wildly unrealistic (as in.....if I could work without break for a year or two, I might get them done).
Oh well....at least I have lots of ideas!

But this posting is about that other list: what I want to do differently next year. To me, teaching is an art form. I am always looking to improve my craft. Sometimes I want to apologize to past students because I feel I have become such a better teacher now then I was for them.

Some questions, though, I struggle with and have yet to find a really good answer. Here's one:
The Crutch Paradox

Basically, this can be summarized like so:

The more I do for them,
the less they do for themselves.

I've seen teachers on both ends of the spectrum.
On one end we have the teacher who doesn't really make assignments but starts the lesson with something like, "What do you have for me today?"

This works well for advanced, highly motivated students who think well for themselves. I often use it with my best students.

On the other end, we have the teacher who precisely lays out everything a student is supposed to do. At my school, I have one such colleague. His students know, walking in the door, pretty much every solo they will work on throughout their college career and in what semester they will work on that solo. The logic has been explained to me in this way: other university classes have clear syllabi and uniform expectations, why not an applied instrument? This approach also offers the advantage of fairness...everyone is held to the same standard.

Still, it isn't the approach I use or plan to use.

I often tell my students that I am trying to get them to become their own teachers-to learn how to think for themselves. With some, this works well. Other flounder-they are so used to being told what to do, it just hasn't occurred to them how to plot their own course.

The basic pillars of my syllabus are: Show Up, Prepare, and Show Incentive.

If I tell you everything you are supposed to do, what happens when you're out on your own with nobody telling you what to do?

But there is always the question of the "other" students. The ones who, for whatever reason, don't get it done.

I tell them to contact their accompanist....they don't.
I tell them to make an appointment to visit the local middle school and teach some demonstration lessons in front of a video camera....they don't.
I tell them to order music, sign up for seminar, mark in breath marks, look up musical terms, record their best take of an excerpt, .........they don't.

Perhaps the solution is obvious: bring down that righteous hammer of "F" upon their heads...that'll teach 'em.
But before I do that, I have to ask myself: am I applying rules fairly to everyone? Have I notified them of this assignment in a timely manner. The last thing I want to do is start throwing out "F's" in a capricious manner.

Yes, I could create an elaborate structure filled with rules and deadlines and appropriate consequences.
But this begs the larger question:
Am I teaching them to do it merely to avoid punishment? Is this right way to get them to show incentive? If I'm not careful it all slips into those questions of "Well, why should I do it if it isn't precisely stated in the syllabus?"

That's like the old joke of the professor who passionately orates on something she cares about only to have a student ask, "Will that be on the quiz?"

Because, if you ask that question, you're missing the whole point!
Future music educators, are you going to be that kind of band director that merely does the minimum to get by? If so, I hope my poor kid doesn't end up in your program!

Future performers....
well, if self-motivation in this insane job market isn't screamingly obvious, then GET OUT NOW!!!

So, I continue to work towards a good compromise of structure and freedom. I'll probably never perfect it but I love the challenge!

For anybody reading this (especially other teachers), I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Writing Comments - is there a transparent solution?

I just got back from a Virginia/D.C. trip that included judging the two final rounds of the ETW solo competition.

For me, one of the biggest challenges in judging these things is the not-so-simple process of listening attentively while trying to write intelligently. It goes something like this: you listen, you hear something (good or bad) that deserves a written comment. You try to write with decent handwriting, knowing that your comments might impact the person whom you are evaluating. I always want to write something of value to the eventual reader. But, as you write this, the music keeps rolling along and deserves your attention. The challenge is exacerbated when you are dealing with a score you don't know well as was the case with the Schnyder Sonata and the Amis Preludes.

Here's an idea I've thought of but haven't acted on. What if you laid one of those transparency sheets over a copy of the music and wrote comments directly onto the transparency? Then you could quickly refer to specific sections by simply circling them. When the candidate/student receives your comments, in theory they could lay the transparency right over their music and see your comments.

This reminds me of an interesting technique I first saw used by Eugene Corporan when working with conducting students. He had rigged up something that allowed him to hold a microphone and softly make comments that, I believe, were being overlaid directly onto the audio portion of the student's video tape. Clever but a bit cumbersome for a trombone competition.

One last comment on the ETW judging. This is my third time doing it. It seems that every time we end up with a choice between the more "clean, polished" rendition and the more "expressive" rendition. I will say that, usually (with one significant exception this year), the more expressive version wins the day even though it is often clear that the "clean, polished" player is technically stronger.

I have heard stories of parallels in big-time orchestra auditions.

Why I don't teach flying...

I point out they're dragging...and then they rush.

I point out that a note is sharp...and then they play it flat.

I point out that it is too soft....and then they blast.


overcompensation: they mean well but...

Suppose I have a flying student and I point out that they're letting the nose dip a bit much and they should pull up...















you get the idea

Music Ed. majors...*Don't* beware the shadow!

Have you heard that term "job shadowing?"

If you are a music ed. major reading this, I suggest that you not wait until your student teaching semester to find out what it's like in the real world.

Look this should be simple: figure out which band programs are successful. Contact the band director and ask if you can come out for a day to observe. Promise you won't get underfoot. Be willing to help if they want you to.

In other words...

if you're planning to do something for a living, go out and watch somebody who is good at it.

Alessi Seminar Notes, Day 4 (part 2) ... Singing in the Fast Lane

Please note:

These entries from the Alessi Seminar are not a literal transcript. I took written notes and then typed them up. I have made every effort to be accurate but, as you might expect, each blog entry is a meager substitute for actually being there.

Remember that many of the things Mr. Alessi says in these masterclasses are in the context of addressing the needs of a particular student and should not be seen as universal mandates to be mindlessly followed.

If you are serious about pursuing musical excellence on the trombone, there is no substitute for actually attending one of Mr. Alessi's seminars. You'll be glad you did.

The evening master class featured the following:

Adam Johnson - Jongen Aria and Polonaise
Daniel Brady - Vaughn Williams Tuba Concerto
Quartet (me, Josh Bynum, Sam Schlosser, Casey Thomas) - Apon, First Quartet
Orchestra Section - (Lange, Abissi, Rodriquez, Bremer and tuba, of course) -
Nielsen Great Symphony, Smetena The Moldau, Respighi Fountains of Rome

A lecture and Q&A session with Mr. Alessi.

Here are some observations. As before, I wasn't able to hear Danial Brady's performance and couldn't take notes when our quartet was playing.

• When you have a repetitive figure, do something different on each repetition.
• When sitting, place the stand so the slide isn't under the stand.
• Joe held the student's fingers as if he were holding a trombone slide and then moved his hand to demonstrate a smoother slide action.
• He described jaw vibrato as looking like a fish. Later he humorously that perhaps you could go out and buy a fish to help with jaw vibrato.
• How to practice vibrato. I'm not completely sure I got this right but I think he said: practice undulating your jaw with a clear rhythmic pulse. (he demonstrates starting with quarters and then eighths and so on). Do a "mini-crescendo" on the quarters and eighths. When he gets to triplets, he starts undulating the jaw. By the time he gets to 16ths, it's just the jaw.
• The most out-of-tune notes are the F and A-flat partials. (I believe he means the 6th and 7th partials. He would refer to partials by note name rather than number.

• On syncopated passages he warned against the beat counting getting into the sound. He demonstrated, swelling the sound on each downbeat.
• "We carry around this bag of silly stuff" In other words, we all have these bad habits that tend to stick around.
• He again warned against "flaring" on the trombone. (A flare, is a sudden swelling in volume as a note is sustained, often as one is about to lead to another note. )
• "If you want to show beauty, let it resound through the hall. Don't rush."
• "Try to play in a simpler way."

Mr. Alessi finished the masterclass with a lecture and a question and answer session.

He began by reminding us that "Rhythm controls everything."

He told a great story about his early career and auditioning. What follows is a paraphrase, not a verbatim quote. I'll try to be as accurate as I can. Any other people who heard the lecture can correct me if I got something wrong:

He spoke about the time he began to get serious about winning auditions. After early success with the San Francisco Ballet while he was in high school (once he even asked the personnel manager if he could be excused to attend his prom) he described himself as "spoiled," believing that it would be easy to win the next audition.

He took a number of auditions in which he was not successful. In New Orleans, 120 people showed up. They had everyone warm-up in this big room. "The sound was like a nightmare, like a B-52." He went on to list a number of other auditions which were not successful.

Then he decided to get serious about winning an audition. He started recording myself. "That's when I discovered about rhythm and pitch." He observed that, if you go to a disco, you'll hear a strong beat (he demonstrate thumping a rhythm on the stage). He pointed out that you need that kind of strong internal rhythm. He demonstrates singing "Stars and Stripes" with perfect rhythm. He recalled that his father drilled that into him, tapping a pencil on the stand. He suggested that we all need to connect to something familiar (in other words, familiar music that has a clear pulse).

"At Juilliard, I make my students sing in lessons." He asked if you can't sing convincingly, how can you play convincingly. He recommended that we should conduct and sing. He feels that this kind of practice, without the instrument, is not done enough.

"For the brief time I was in Montreal (preparing for the New York Philharmonic audition), every day I would go down to the hall with my tape recorder and work on my rhythm."

He pointed out that preparation is the most important. Absolutely be prepared for anything you're going to do...an audition, a recital, whatever.

Concerning pitch:

He began by reminding us that, first, we have to understand the pitfalls, to understand the pitch tendencies of our instruments. He observed that, all around the world, he has to tell people the same notes are out of tune. He asks the audience, "Do you know why?" After a number of failed attempts at an answer, he provided the answer, "Finger on the bell."

He shared that another problem with pitch is that there's not enough singing that goes on. We don't sing enough. "I grew up in a house where everyone was singing."

He also suggested playing duets with yourself. Tape one part and then play with it.

He described the ideal pitch as being like "a train going down the track."

I raised my hand and got a chance to ask one of my "deep questions:" "When you play alone, should you temper notes like you do when you are playing chords in a section.

He thought for a moment and then replied that this question ran the danger of becoming paralysis by analysis. He pointed out that when he's playing, he just wants to sing and make it in tune. He doesn't want to analyze it that much.

He went on to point out that, if you have one note in a passage, like a D, that keeps coming back again and again, you need to return to the same note. Sometimes, he draws brackets in his music connecting pitches so he can make them in tune.

Going on...

He reminded us that if you're in high school or college, now is the best time to practice. When you get out, you're going to have to make living and that will cut into your practice time.

He recommended that, every day, you should visit the standard books: Arban, Schlossberg, Remington. In other words, visit the fundamentals every day.

"There's no point in practicing when you're not focused." 45 minutes is a good amount of time. While resting, he used to practice the piano. After visiting the studies, he recommended that we practice etudes. He mentioned playing Bordogni vocalises in 4 registers and Blazhevich etudes. He suggested we might follow etudes with work on solos and excerpts.

He recalled that the most fun he had listening to repertoire was when he was very young, maybe 13. His father had albums he would listen to. He got the Chicago Symphony excerpt record and would dream of doing that. He observed how now Jay Friedman calls him and wants to get together to play golf. "I never imagined when I was looking at those record covers that that would happen someday. It's like a dream come true."

He stressed the importance of learning the repertoire. The best way to do that now is iTunes. "Put all your favorite things on an ipod and listen all the time. "

When he was in San Francisco and Philadelphia, he would go to orchestra concerts every single week. "We were enthusiastic." After the concert was over, he would always go backstage and congratulate the section.

About jazz:

"I'm listening more and more and finding out what jazz players do rhythmically." Recently Robin Eubanks called him and wanted to get together to play. "That's the great thing about New York, there are all these great players." He told a story of how he and Robin Eubanks got together and played along with the Aebersold accompaniments. He quoted Eubanks, "Jazz is like a language. You have to learn the language." For Christmas he received the Columbia JJ Johnson collection and keeps it in his car. "I love JJ Johnson. That is pure jazz." He observed that he would like to start transcribing solos.

He feels that practicing jazz does help his playing, especially in the brass quintet. On a recent NYPO brass quintet tour, they played a number of pop tunes. He shared with us that Phil Smith loved playing the Johnson Rag. When he got back, he couldn't get it out of his head.

With respect to recital programming, he said the he looks for a great opener. He also shared that you don't want a recital to be too long, especially a trombone recital. He recommend an optimal length of 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hours.

About finding time to practice in a busy schedule:
Every year, he takes time to clean up his studio. During the year, rushing to and from gigs, he doesn't have time to put his music away. So once a year, he resets, puts everything away and gets organized.
Every piece he's doing, he puts into a blue bound folder which he carries with him. He noted tht sometimes he is carrying around several of these blue folders in his case. This way he has the music available to practice whenever there is time. "Being organized with your music is important." He pointed out that orchestra tours are a great time to practice because there's so much downtime. He pointed that sometimes they all are fighting over good spaces in which to practice while on the road.
He ended with a great quote (I hope I got it right)

"It's just sing, sing, sing, sing, sing. That's life in the fast lane."

Two Comparisons to Consider

First, a personal note: I sometimes refer to these days as the "Golden Days." I'm done with my teaching for the moment but the kids are still in school. Thus I have something more precious than gold: time.

I'm making good progress on writing a book and am excited about it. Of course I worry that I'll finish it, send it out and receive a giant collective yawn....but I don't think so.

Sorry the blog entries have been a bit slower (book, book, book, book). Summer does give me some time (mostly while doing yard work...dang weeds) to ruminate. Here's something to consider...two comparisons:

Conductor A
Competent, knowledgeable but not terribly enthusiastic. Often seems to be going through the motions.

Conductor B
Inconsistent, frustrating at times but clearly seems to love the music he is conducting. Often guilty of getting carried in the passion of the moment and committing technical errors.

Which conductor would you rather work for?
Which conductor will the audience respond to?

(No, you can't vote for Conductor C)
(But, hey, we can all dream...)

How about an audition...

Candidate A
Maybe not the biggest sound, not that exciting, but very accurate. Doesn't usually miss notes.

Candidate B
Maybe "goes for it" too much in trying to get a big sound and make the music exciting but tends to miss notes here and there.

Which candidate will the committee vote for? How about a committee of non-trombone players and mostly non brass players (which many committees are)?

I remember, back in the 1980's, a certain bass trombone audition (for a top-tier orchestra) in which the ultimate winner of the audition received no advancement votes from the trombone section. Not even in the first round. How would you like start a new job and discover that your new colleagues had voted to cut you in the first round but kept getting overruled by the woodwinds, strings and conductor. Yes, this really happened.

How many players of any brass instrument play mock audition rounds for strings or woodwinds? Should they? What if your career aspirations rested ultimately in the hands of someone whose concept of trombone tone isn't refined as yours?

Hey, did I just bump into Deep Question #3? Maybe.

Thinking about an all-state audition next year? I often have high school students come to take lessons with me and often they want to work on an all-state solo. I usually take the approach the most important thing is tone. I've sometimes said, "Tone is your calling card." It's the first thing they hear, the first impression you give.

BUT...
What if the judge doesn't have a carefully refined concept of trombone tone?
What if they haven't listened intently to all those wonderful Alessi recordings?
What if they aren't even a trombone player?
What if (shudder) they aren't a such a great musician?
What if they are brain-fried from having listened to 15 auditions before yours and having to listen to 12 more?

Chances are, they'll be reduced to note-counting.

Given that, what's a teacher to do?

Stealth Piano

So it happened (again). I was coaching a student with a pianist.

Pianist plays interlude....trombonist misses entrance.

Counting problem? No, preparation problem.

Here's a game I sometimes pull: I tell the pianist to start at some random point in the interlude. The trombonist has to figure out when to come in by listening to the piano part.

Listening, what a concept.

Reminds me of an interesting story from one of our school's wonderful accompanists. Years ago, the sax teacher arrived at her house for a rehearsal. Before ringing the doorbell, he got out his horn. When she let him in, he just started playing from a random passage in the Creston Sonata. He wanted to see if she could figure out where he was in the piece and jump right in.

Yeah, she got it.

Kleinhammer in my Palm

At one of the International Trombone Festivals, I went to a master class by Ed Kleinhammer, retired bass trombonist of the Chicago Symphony. As he talked and had people demonstrate, I scribbled notes in my palm pilot (cue the geek music).

Anyway, those notes have been sitting in the palm pilot ever since. I might as well share 'em.
(they're a bit abbreviated)

Kleinhammer Notes

• The mouthpiece is the musical part, the rest of horn is an amplifier
• The embouchure only provides ounces of resistance
  
• Record yourself on the mp (play back at half speed),
• He demonstrated breathing tube -w- string
• Breath attack arpeggios 4 attacks to one breath. Prevent activating the cough muscle
• Lower lip will move more than upper lip during register changes. He would use a little vibrato on Brahms 1. Vibrato serves to center the tone. "automatic center finder"
• He has a sign in his studio "The greatest truths are the simplest."
• We've got to form the embouchure using the least amount of muscles in our face.
• Using these breath attacks, you get "solfege of the embouchure"
• We're looking for shortcuts and we're cheating ourselves. There are no shortcuts.
• As you cresc, the lower lip flies into the mp
• After Eric Carlson, a former student, demonstrated long tones on high A, Kleinhammer commented, "This exercise was why my dog left home." (a comment on himself, not Carlson)
  
• You play sharp because it sounds better to you .(student jokes) "Better to play sharp than to play out of tune!"
• He recommended playing La Gazza Ladra using the "no" syllable. This syllable interrupts the air less and sounds better than a more explosive attack
  
• He used to start out -w- mp glisses
• If you want to be a good trombone player, you can't work on a tight time schedule.

Perhaps there's a gem in there you might like.

Nyah, nyah, nyah

Recently a student was playing a legato shift from B-flat to G. Lots of tension.

I tried lots of tricks; nothing seemed to work.

Hmm, minor third. What about that little mocking melody kids use.
"Nyah nyah nyah...(etc.)



Just like that, tension gone.

Take the new...relate it to the simple, the old.
Something you've done for years.

Unsung Heroes

A few random thoughts weave themselves into a thought...

My previous anticipation of teaching a complete beginner twice a week.
My upcoming spring semester edition of secondary trombone class (where I teach budding band directors how to play the trombone).
Briefly bumping into one of my student's students in the lobby of the music school.

The thought: Who are the top teachers for beginners?

Do we assume that the top-flight teachers in the country would be the best choice? How recently has Joe Alessi worked with a total beginner?

We all rightfully admire top teachers of advanced students but I believe teaching (and motivating) beginners is an important art. Excellent teachers of beginners are like the unsung heroes of our trombone world.

After all,if you can get them off on the right foot and instill those good habits before the bad ones take hold, you have saved these young trombonists a world of suffering.

These "heroes" labor away in back rooms of music stores, middle and high school band rooms and in student's homes. My hat goes off to them.

My first teacher was a man who drove from house to house in a VW packed with instruments. I only knew him as Mr, Paul (Paul, I believe, was his last name). He taught my friend his trumpet lesson and then came to our house to set me straight on the trombone. He wasn't young then and I doubt he's still around. As far as I can tell, he set me on a pretty good path.

Thank you, Mr Paul.