Saturday, November 14, 2009

When in Doubt...

My primary instrument is oboe. In the beginning, I played it because I squeaked when I tried the clarinet; but in the end, I think it was the right choice. I wanted to change to French horn in high school so I wouldn't have to make reeds, but even with the frustration of not being a good reed maker, I'm glad I didn't change. I love the sound. It sings, and I identify with it as a part of who I am. As a band director, I play another instrument almost every day so I'll be able to model a good sound on all of them for my students. I enjoy the learning, but I don't connect with the others in the same way.

Sources or influences on the music performances I produce... I never really thought about playing that way. I came through structured programs in band, chorus and piano. Good fundamental technique and the development of strong music literacy skills were really important. In band, we used a very systematic and mathematical approach to developing rhythmic literacy. We played in elementary school 30 minutes every day, and turned in practice cards every week, with 30 minutes at home being the expectation. In chorus, we sight-sang every day using numbers, which worked well for me later when I studied theory. I don't remember thinking or talking about being inspired or being creative, but I remember a lot of the things I've played and sung. I feel like from every teacher I encountered, I was encouraged and even required to develop a disciplined approach to developing performance skills, yet in the end I hope there is a strong musical element to my playing.

My dad is a retired band director and a trombone player. All my life I've listened, sometimes actively and sometimes not, to Brahms and Rachmaninoff, Frank Sinatra and Nancy Wilson, Willie Nelson and the New York Voices. It was just always there. I still listen a lot on my own, and I still love Brahms the most. I can never have his music on just in the background; if it's playing, I have to pay attention, no matter how many times I've heard the piece.

When I was in college, I visited a friend at Eastman and got to take a lesson with Richard Kilmer and hear him play a recital with one of his students. What I remember most is how much I loved his sound, and that one of his students had written in large letters on a poster board "When in doubt, play beautifully." It was something he told them, and the poster hung over the door in his office.

I think fundamentally, whether it is right or wrong, since I play most often with ensembles rather than as a soloist, my approach when I play is that it must be correct to be really good (in tune and in time), but that to get and give joy from it, it must be beautiful, which is a lot harder to measure.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Art is...

Art lets me communicate with myself and other people without having to use words. In the right circumstance, I come away feeling more centered and focused. Music has for me less extraneous pieces than when I use words, so it feels more authentic to who I would like to be.