Composer and pianist Jean Francaix (1912-1997) was born in Le Mans, France to musician parents who encouraged the development of his clearly evident musical talent. He began composing at age 6 and during childhood he captured the attention of the renowned composition teacher Nadia Boulanger who took him under her wing. She considered him to be one of her best students.
Francaix became popular during the early 20th century, especially after the
formation of the Trio d'anches de Paris in 1927 by bassoonist Fernand Oubradous. Francaix was quite prolific, producing more than 200 works including film music, but his passion was chamber music, especially for winds.
He avoided the group of composers known as Les
Six. Although he was friendly with Poulenc and other members of Les
Six, Francaix felt that he had no business joining their group because
he never questioned the traditional needs of his audience or the
foundations of his compositional style. His style may be described as
being tonal, neo-Classical, elegant, rhythmically incisive, vibrant, light and
well-grounded in tradition.
Francaix's stated goal of his music was to "give pleasure".
It's easy to admire such a rare degree of self-assurance and clarity of purpose.
Bassoonists who have performed his works are all too familiar with the technical challenges his parts present. He likes to explore the bassoon's range through dangerously wide leaps. (I often wonder if such leaps are any easier on the Frenchbasson for which Francaix wrote.....probably not.)
Francaix's interesting use of rhythm is an identifying characteristic of his music. He's not afraid of the quintuplet, as evidenced in the Prelude of the Divertissement:
This section is full of quintuplets in one instrument juxtaposed over quadruple rhythms in the other instruments. My teacher K. David Van Hoesen taught me to be at ease with quintuplets. He had a simple method for figuring out how to evenly fit 5 notes into one beat: He told me to think of the word "geophysical" to divide a beat into 5 equal parts. The words "geophysical year" would be used for adding the beginning of the next beat to the end of the quintuplet.
A fine example of Francaix's use of wide leaps is found in the Allegretto assai:
Measures 3 and 4 after 17 are particularly daunting. However, as I like to point out to students, those two measures are mercifully preceded by two measures of Eb major arpeggios. (I'm constantly looking for examples in the music I'm preparing to show students why we must practice our scales and arpeggios.) And the next few measures after the daunting measures are also arpeggio-based. Between number 18 and number 19 we have a perfect example of Francaix's endearing use of playful rhythms.
At the end of the same movement is another great example of why we practice arpeggios. If you know your arpeggios, you won't even have to practice this (except for one measure before 22):
One of the most challenging passages for me begins 3 measures before 32 in the last movement:
Moving from high B to low C# in no time is asking a lot of the left thumb (and of the embouchure, which must suddenly jerk into place for the low C#). The printed tempo of 92 to the measure is very fast! Francaix must have known some awesome bassoon players, one of whom, as we know, was Fernand Oubradous (who must have practiced his famous and enduringEnseignement Complet du Bassonreligiously!).
On January 4, 2017 at 2pm at the Columbus Museum of Art, four musicians from the Columbus Symphony will be performing a unique program on the museum's Mozart to Matisse series. The program includes the Francaix Divertissement. Here is the museum's description of the event:
Columbus Museum of Art, in partnership
with Columbus Symphony Orchestra (CSO), presents this afternoon series
pairing lectures exploring works from CMA’s collection with chamber
music performances. Participants will look at depictions of costumed
performers in art, such as clowns of the commedia dell’arte by
Jean-Antoine Watteau and Pablo Picasso and ballet dancers by Edgar
Degas, complemented by musical works performed by CSO musicians. Cost of
this program is $20 for nonmembers and $5 for members. To guarantee
your seat, please register early. This program is sponsored by CMA
Docent Alums.
Musicians:
Bob Royse, oboe
David Thomas, clarinet
Betsy Sturdevant, bassoon
Orlay Alonso, piano Program:
FRANCAIX: Divertissement pour hautbois, clarinette et basson
POULENC: Trio pour piano, hautbois et basson
If you live in or near Columbus, we'd love to see you there!
from yesterday's memorial service for K. David Van Hoesen
Yesterday, October 8, 2016, a memorial service was held for K. David
Van Hoesen at the Chapel of Canterbury Place in Pittsburgh. Mr.
Van Hoesen, who had retired as Professor of
Bassoon and Chair of the Wind, Brass and Percussion Department of the
Eastman School
of Music in Rochester, died on Monday at age 90.
The
venue was packed, undoubtedly like his musical performances throughout
his life. Joining the Van Hoesen family (his wife of 66 years, Carol
Morse Van Hoesen; his daughter Gretchen S. Van Hoesen and her husband
James A.
Gorton, his daughter Catherine A. Van Hoesen; and his granddaughter,
Heidi Van
Hoesen) were many friends and admirers of Mr. Van Hoesen, including many
former students (listed alphabetically): Douglas Fisher (Columbus
Symphony Second Bassoon), Phillip Kolker (Baltimore Symphony Principal
Bassoon, retired), Judith LeClair (NY Philharmonic Principal Bassoon),
George Sakakeeny (Eastman School of Music Professor of Bassoon), Martha
Scholl (Rochester Philharmonic and Buffalo Philharmonic Bassoon
Sections) and Betsy Sturdevant (Columbus Symphony Principal Bassoon).
Betsy Sturdevant, Gretchen Van Hoesen, George Sakakeeny, Douglas Fisher, Judith LeClair, Martha Scholl, Phillip Kolker
There were many other students of Mr. Van Hoesen who
wished to attend but couldn't be released from performance duties on
such short notice, and several of them had prepared remembrances which were read during the service.
The audience included several members of the Pittsburgh Symphony including
Nancy Goeres, David Sogg, Jim Rodgers, Cynthia DeAlmeida, Scott Bell
and Chris Allen. Even the musicians who had not been his students reported that they were incredibly moved by the service.
Family
members offered
written remembrances in the program which offered great insight into the
home and family life of the man who was so loved and revered. Each of
Mr. Van Hoesen's former students in attendance and also former Eastman
Professor of Violin Oliver Steiner spoke during the service. Several
meaningful recordings were played, including a delightful rendition of
Fritz Kreisler's Schön Rosemarin
performed by Mr. Van Hoesen and Judith LeClair with Judy's husband
Jonathan Feldman on piano. We were also treated to a stunning recording
of Mr. Van Hoesen performing the Mozart Bassoon Concerto which I don't
think any of us had heard before.
There were two live
musical performances which Mr. Van Hoesen would have loved: George Sakakeeny and Gretchen Van Hoesen
(principal harpist of the Pittsburgh Symphony) played A Chloris by Reynaldo Hahn, and Heidi Van Hoesen (principal harpist of the Toronto Symphony) performed the Andante from Violin Sonata No. 2 in a minor BWV 1003 by J. S. Bach.
Everyone
in attendance agreed that the service was beautiful and as well as
comprehensive. Mr. Van Hoesen was a very talented and intelligent man
whose fascination
and curiosity about such topics as electronics, acoustics, machinery,
astronomy, poetry, literature, ham radio, and yes, even bassoon reeds
lasted his lifetime. The service brought out each and every facet
of his being. The remembrances from his students made it became clear that
although his musical beliefs and his high standards were consistent, the
manner in which he interacted with each of us had varied greatly.
Perhaps that was the secret of his marvelously successful teaching.
Several
main themes seemed to be repeated over and over, such as his kind,
patient, calm demeanor; his emphasis on beauty of sound and accuracy of
intonation; and perhaps most importantly of all, his insistence upon
prioritizing musicianship rather than giving in to the encumbrances of
the bassoon. His teaching was so expansive beyond mere bassoon playing
that perhaps he would be best described as a life coach. Each of us
left the ceremony inspired to carry on the legacy of this great man.
The Van Hoesen family has requested that in lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the
Eastman
School of Music, 26 Gibbs St., Rochester, NY 14604 (please write "for the K. David Van
Hoesen bassoon scholarship" on the memo line of your check) or to Mid-Atlantic
English Springer Spaniel Rescue.
K. David Van Hoesen at the 2007 IDRS conference in Ithaca, NY
The first time I met K. David Van Hoesen I was a high school student. He was not at all what I expected. After all, he was the esteemed professor of bassoon at the Eastman School of Music. I never expected such a famous man to remind me of a teddy bear. He had an easy smile and a quick chuckle. He was calm, easy-going and peaceful - the perfect guru for a high-strung, overly eager bassoon student. I auditioned at only one college - Eastman. No one else would suffice once I met him.
For college music majors, the private teacher is hugely significant. The school is chosen based upon the private teacher. The relationship between the music student and private teacher can make or break a career; it can make or break a life. The teacher is like a parent, but without the baggage. He or she is a guide through the sometimes treacherous transition from childhood to adulthood.
K. David Van Hoesen was the guide into adult life for dozens and dozens of bassoon students, many of whom now hold positions in the world's top orchestras. There is no question that he was one of the greatest teachers of bassoon that the world has ever known. But he was so much more than that.
I'm sure I'm not the only student of his who received counseling from him on every topic imaginable. There were bassoon lessons during which the bassoon never left its case, and those lessons may have been among the most important. He gave advice freely, even to the point of evaluating my boyfriends (or lack thereof). Undoubtedly, he was as good as any trained therapist at analyzing his students' idiosyncrasies. In fact he psychoanalyzed me before my first successful orchestral audition, and I have always attributed that win to his brilliant observations of my sometimes not-so-helpful behavior.
Once during freshman year I arrived at my bassoon lesson totally distraught over a situation with my roommate. He called the dean on the phone right then and there and I was immediately moved into a single room. When I complained once about ensemble assignments, he called the conducting staff while I listened. He was definitely a full service bassoon teacher. Because of his teddy bear-like quality, he was easy to talk to, and he always had a wise response. When I told him I was depressed about not knowing what the future held, he responded that he knew exactly how I felt and that he benefited from going for walks in which he intentionally noticed the flowers and other uplifting sights. (During my final visit with him in Rochester, NY, he suddenly stopped himself mid-sentence to point upwards and comment, with wonder in his voice, on how the birds had lined up so neatly on the overhead utility wires. He never stopped appreciating those uplifting moments.)
His students are known for musicianship and quality of sound, and his manner of promoting his concepts was sometimes unconventional. When I was a freshman I was afraid to use vibrato due to some inexplicable hangup. He coaxed a few times to no avail. So finally he showed up one day with a mysterious machine that measured air pressure. He had me stick a tube in my mouth which was connected to the machine, and he wanted me to play the bassoon that way. He instructed me to make the needle of the meter on the machine move with a regular pulse. And there it was.....vibrato! In fact, it shocked both of us in that it actually sounded decent. A few weeks later he asked me to help a couple of other students improve their vibrato. (That was certainly a confidence-builder!) Who on earth besides him ever would have thought of using a machine to teach vibrato? I probably wouldn't yet be using vibrato if K.David Van Hoesen hadn't been such a creative thinker that day.
Tone quality was so important to him. Early on during my freshman year he had me play the beginning exercises in the Weissenborn Practical Method for the Bassoon, which most of us had abandoned long before college. But he wanted me to go back to those basic exercises and just focus on developing a full sound. I was embarrassed and hoped desperately that no one could hear me practicing the simple etudes, but Mr. Van Hoesen knew what he was doing. I daresay no one would say today that I don't play with a full sound.
On those rare occasions when we had the opportunity to hear him play the bassoon (he had retired from the Rochester Philharmonic before I attended Eastman), it was heavenly. His sound was truly incomparable, so smooth and velvety and ineffably appealing. We knew we had chosen the right instrument when we heard him play it. He'd pick up his bassoon every once in a while just to demonstrate one interval. And that one interval was unforgettable.....I can still hear it.
Reading Barry Stees' blog post
about Mr. Van Hoesen reminded me of another incident from my freshman
year. I vividly recall the day I approached Mr. Van Hoesen in tears
because of an assignment I wasn't ready for: I was scheduled to play
principal bassoon in William Schuman's When Jesus Wept with ESSO (Eastman School Symphony Orchestra) on a Prism
Concert. (Prism Concerts were nonstop programs showcasing many
facets of Eastman's music program including both large and small
ensembles. These concerts were popular and successful for many years
and the concept was imitated by other music schools.)
There
was very little time between the first rehearsal and the concert. Basically, I was being asked to transform myself from a clueless kid to a mature master within a period of five days! I
was in a state of inconsolable panic, but somehow Mr. Van Hoesen managed to get
through to me. He coached me on each note, on each transition from note
to note, on each nuance of dynamics and vibrato. (Thankfully, this
occurred after he had brought in the vibrato machine!) He taught
his students to listen to recordings (and I mean recordings of all of
the great singers, string player and pianists) to develop our musical
maturity, and to study recordings of specific works we'd be playing. So
I found Mr. Van Hoesen's recording of When Jesus Wept and listened to it over and over:
Like
magic, it worked. Mr. Van Hoesen's careful, patient coaching coupled
with many repetitions of his recording paid off in spades. He greeted me backstage after the performance, beaming from ear to ear.
Even though he was such a brilliant teacher, he was open to interpretations and styles which differed from those he taught, as long as the ideas were presented convincingly.
I always admired that about him. He even encouraged his students to
study with other teachers during the summers. He wanted what was best
for his students, not what was best for his ego!
He always demonstrated living a well-rounded life. Once when I was rolling my eyes over having to read Dostoyevsky for literature class, he said, "But you have to read Dostoyevsky in order to be able to play Tchaikowsky!". (Later during the same lesson he said of a passage in Tchaikowsky Symphony No. 4: "If your face isn't turning bright red while you're playing that passage, then you're not playing it right!") He often spoke of his non-musical hobbies such as tinkering with machines and his telescope, and of fishing at his beloved Lake Placid.
On top of all this, he was clairvoyant. I had a marathon lesson with him before my audition for my current job, and as I walked out after the lesson he informed me with great conviction (the same way that he had instructed me to play each excerpt!) that I was going to win the audition. (Regarding an earlier audition, he had said, "You're gonna give 'em a run for their money!" and I was the runner-up for that job.)
When I teach bassoon students I'm constantly being guided by his words, to the
extent that I often pause and tell the students about the great man I'm
quoting. Rhythmic fingering, note preparation, broken arpeggios,
avoiding static notes (EACH note has to have motion!), just like chess
(not making a good move too soon!), carefully listening for and locating the ring in
each note, and insisting on accurate intonation at all times----these
are a few of his trademarks of which my students are now beneficiaries.
When the news came that Mr. Van Hoesen had passed away this morning, I wanted to be numb and pretend it wasn't so. If I ignored the news, I could pretend that this was just like any other Monday......but the memories began to infiltrate my thoughts......,memories of the patient, careful sessions when he was imploring me to listen, really listen to the sound of that note.....was it ringing?.....was it resonating in the best possible sense?.......was this the right placement of the note?
And then the movement to the next note......was the transition from the last note to this one smooth and creamy?.....were my fingers moving as though molding clay?.....was the air supporting the movement from the first note to the second?......is this how a great string player would sound?......had I been practicing my broken arpeggios?......how might the vibrato assist in the transition?......and what about dynamics?.......
As the news began to sink in, I wondered how I would be able to face the students who would begin showing up at my door shortly. But of course the answer is obvious. Along with all of Mr. Van Hoesen's students, I'm passing it on, with more enthusiasm than ever.
Thank you, Mr. Van Hoesen, for so aptly demonstrating what's important in music and in life.
K. David Van Hoesen at home in Rochester, NY amongst a forest of bassoons
Nearly every musician on earth has probably heard the latest trending news about "bagpipe lung". This is old news for most of us, since scientists have been warning for years about the possibility of mold, fungi, yeast and pathogens lurking inside of wind instruments, ready to be inhaled into the lungs of the unsuspecting player. That news has undoubtedly sent some former wind players scrambling to the string, percussion and keyboard instruments, but for those of us who steadfastly stand by our potentially deadly wind instruments, what can we do to ensure our survival?
Mold Basics
Mold needs three conditions in which to grow:
Moisture
Food (This means actual food, or wood, leather, cotton, paper products, etc.)
Ideal temperature (Mold grows in temperature between 32 and 120 degrees Fahrenheit - a generous range! The 70-90 degree range is most conducive for mold growth.)
Of the above conditions, the two that we bassoonists can affect are moisture and food. (I suppose we can also affect temperature by storing reeds in the freezer. I don't know about you, but for me that would increase the likelihood of showing up for work without my reeds!)
Oral hygiene
It's best (necessary, in my opinion) to brush and floss your teeth before playing the bassoon. (Yeah, I know.....the trending news on flossing claims that flossing is useless after all. I'm choosing to ignore that claim while waiting for future studies which refute the current news.) Any food particles which find their way into your reed or bocal can become food for mold. Not only is that gross and unhealthy, but it also prevents the reed and the bocal from functioning optimally.
Reed care
Although the reed must be moist for playing, we absolutely must take
steps to dry out our reeds after playing. I leave my reed container out of
the bassoon case and open. If I'm at a rehearsal or concert, I take out
my reeds as soon as I get home. First I rinse them with a strong stream of cold water and then set them out to dry.
reeds drying out after use, with the reed container open
Bocal care
For bassoonists, the cleanliness of the bocal is important. The best way to keep a bocal hygienic (besides brushing and flossing of the player's teeth) is by running a clean bocal swab through the bocal at least once a month. I wash my bocal swab after each use, since the last thing I want to do is send a germ-laden swab through my bocal. After hand washing it with a mild soap, I allow it to dry outdoors in the sun, since sunlight is a natural sanitizing and bleaching agent.
bocal swab with a tail on each end in case it becomes stuck
After running the bocal swab through the bocal, flush the bocal with water. Allow water to accumulate inside the bocal and then blow it out forcefully so that any residue from the swabbing will be blown out. (If you swab the bocal frequently enough, there shouldn't be any residue!) Then force water out of the whisper key hole on the nub to ensure that it's not clogged. Just cover the end of the bocal with your hand to force the water out of the whisper key hole.
Suck it up
One unique aspect of bassoon playing is that while playing, moisture accumulates in the bocal and at a certain point it begins gurgling or "knocking". Some players seem to ignore it as if hoping the listener can't hear it. The listener can hear it. What do we do about it?
There are three ways I know of. One is to take the bocal out of its socket and blow into the larger end of the bocal forcefully, expelling the moisture. Another is to take the reed off the bocal and blow forcefully into the bocal, thereby blowing the moisture into the instrument. The third method is to suck the moisture out of the bocal through the reed, which means the moisture enters the player's mouth, presumably to be swallowed.
The first method described above is impractical during rehearsals and concerts; it simply takes too much time. Also, unless you are alone in a practice room, it makes too much noise. The second method produces even more noise, and can absolutely disrupt a rehearsal or concert. Furthermore, it forces moisture into the instrument. The boot can actually accumulate so much moisture that it begins to gurgle.
Gross though it is, it's that third method which I use, and I'd be willing to bet that most professionals use it. If you're assiduous about keeping your bocal clean, it shouldn't pose any problems. My bocal was purchased brand new fairly recently, and I've swabbed it religiously. I don't think it harbors mold. (One reason I don't like to try other people's bassoons is because I'm afraid that I'll accidentally suck the moisture out of the bocal through the reed, thereby ingesting its mold, bacteria, and heaven knows what else. This act of sucking in the moisture is habitual for me, since any moisture inside of the reed or bocal can cause things to go wrong during rehearsals or concerts. I'm constantly sucking the moisture in through the reed.)
Mold is more likely to grow in the reed than in the bocal because the cane itself provides food for mold. The metal bocal does not promote mold growth UNLESS food particles have been allowed to accumulate inside it. If you play the bassoon without brushing or flossing first, you may have created an environment for mold growth. On top of that, if you don't regularly swab your bocal, well, some new habits may be in order.
Boot and tenor joints
The only other action we bassoonists can take to ward off mold is to make sure that our boot and tenor joint swabs are kept clean. It goes without saying that the boot and tenor joints must be swabbed each time the bassoon is placed back in its case. Keeping the instrument dry is critical for the health of the instrument and its player.
On top of that, the swabs used for the boot and tenor joint must be kept clean. It's not practical to wash those swabs after each use, unfortunately, but for heaven's sake, we should definitely wash them as frequently as possible, using mild soap and sun drying.
Sun-drying a boot swab
It's really that simple - that's all we can do.....brush and floss our teeth, dry out our reeds, swab bocals often, swab boot and tenor joints after each use, and keep those swabs clean and dry, thus holding "bagpipe lung" at bay!
How can you tell if your bassoon reed knife needs sharpening? Just drop the blade, sharp side down, onto your thumb nail. If it catches, the blade is sharp enough. If it just glides smoothly on your nail, then it's too dull to function optimally.
The following instructions were presented to me by the late Norman Herzberg who was widely known for his Los Angeles studio work, his revolutionary reed making concepts and tool production, and of course his legendary teaching.
These instructions apply to the double hollow ground style knife, which is probably the easiest type of knife to sharpen.
Mr. Herzberg recommended using a Norton Crystolon Combination Oilstone:
Being an oilstone, it must be oiled before each use. Norton sells oil for this very purpose. It's actually a light mineral oil:
If your knife is in really bad shape, begin with the rough side of the sharpening stone. (An oboist reading this post might react with horror.....how could a double reed player possibly be using a knife in really bad shape? Well, bassoonists are generally much less religious about knife-sharpening than oboists, and for good reason. For one thing, oboists are dealing with harder cane. Oboists need a very sharp knife for precise cutting. On the other hand, bassoonists often run into problems with accidental gouging and nicking of the cane with a very sharp knife. Some bassoonists, according to rumor,never sharpen their knives. My opinion is that bassoon knives should be kept reasonably sharp, passing the above-mentioned thumb nail test, at all times.)
First ensure that your stone is abutting a wall or some sort of stable object so that the stone won't move as you push the knife from the bottom to the top of the stone. (For pushing down from top to bottom, you'll use your hand to hold the stone in place.)
Make sure that the sharpening stone is clean and dust-free before oil is
applied. I always store my sharpening stone inside of a container so that it
doesn't become dusty. Oil the stone by placing 3 drops of oil evenly spaced on the sharpening stone.
Evenly distribute 3 drops of oil on the surface of the stone.
Then smear the oil over the stone, covering it evenly.
The 3 drops of oil have been well-smeared evenly over the surface of this stone.
Start with the knife at the bottom of the stone, with the knife blade at approximately a 45 degree angle across the stone. First lay the knife flat:
Then lift the back of the knife 1/8 inch. That's the angle you'll maintain while sharpening
Lift the back (the thick side as opposed to the thin cutting edge) of the blade 1/8" up off of the surface of the stone.
Begin by pushing the knife up to the top of the stone. Push into the edge of the knife. After reaching the top of the stone, flip the knife over, then beginning at the top of the stone, push back down to the bottom of the stone. Keep the knife rigid at all times, with the back raised 1/8 inch. Don't roll the knife; keep it rigid. Push into the edge you're sharpening.
Pushing the knife down from the top of the stone to the bottom
Repeat this routine a few times, then test the sharpness of the blade by dropping it onto your thumb nail. If it catches, you're done. If you began with a really dull knife and used the rough side of the stone first, then you'll be ready to flip the stone over to the fine side after maybe 10 or 20 swipes up and down. Repeat the routine using the fine side. Don't forget to oil this side also! Then test the knife after using the fine side.
If your knife was already in decent shape, then probably only a couple of strokes on the fine side of the stone are needed. Never use the stone without oiling it first!
Mr. Herzberg also mentioned that a hard Arkansas stone may be used.
If you're one of those bassoonists who doesn't worry much about the sharpness of your knife, give this a try. Chances are you'll convert!
You already know what to do to able to function optimally: eat sensibly and regularly, exercise, strive for 8 hours of sleep each night, make a few friends. Balance is key.
2. Set priorities
Make a list of your priorities and stick to that
list. Chances are, socializing is not your top priority,
so be careful that your social life does not accidentally rise to the
top unbeknownst to you. Each choice you make will have either a positive or a negative impact upon your college experience.
3. Prioritize practicing
Establish a strict practicing schedule as soon as school starts.
Your success as a musician depends upon how much and how effectively you practice. It
may take you a while to figure out the best times to practice. When I
was a student at Eastman I liked to arrive at the practice rooms when the school
opened at 7am so that I'd be able to choose one of my favorite practice rooms, and I always stayed until the school closed at 11pm.
I was determined to practice as much as I possibly could. (No, I was not in the practice room all day. Plenty of other things
happened between my early arrival and my late departure.)
4. Know yourself and work with that knowledge
Know yourself and plan accordingly within reason. For example, I'm an extremist. and that's why it suited me to arrive when the doors opened and leave when they closed at Eastman each day. If you're gregarious, then you might benefit from practicing at peak times. If you're a night owl, maybe it would behoove you to save your practicing for later hours when you are most energetic.
If you're not a morning person and you have a class at 8am each day, then you're going to have to find a way to force yourself to make it to that class on time. (Try going to bed earlier!) Do not allow yourself to skip classes unless you are deathly ill. You have chosen to attend college and to pay a lot of money to do so. Therefore it makes no sense to put forth anything less than wholehearted effort.
5. Revere your teacher
Pay rapt attention to the professor of your instrument. Take notes during lessons, or if the professor allows, record (audio or video) your lessons. If you hang on his or her every word (or playing demonstration), you'll learn faster. Be sure to actually follow his or her instructions assiduously.
6. Listen to music
Listen to music of your chosen genre constantly in order to establish and inspire your musical goals and preferences. Attend live performances and listen to recordings. Of course, as a standard aspect of preparation, always listen to recordings of any music you're working on or performing.
7. Beware of distractions
Watch for distractions......they're everywhere. Freshman year is perhaps NOT the best time to master Pokeman Go, World of Warcraft or Call of Duty. Save Netflix for planned relaxation times.
Once you have a job (and tenure), then you can play Pokeman Go to your heart's content!
8. Choose positively influential friends
Choose your friends wisely. If you're lucky enough to befriend a fellow music student who is a superior musician, you'll learn from that friend. I hung out with a phenomenal flute student who was studying with James Galway during our freshman year at Eastman. I learned a great deal from joining my friend in exploring interpretations of musical phrases, in listening to recordings of the world's greatest musicians, and in listening to the incomparable James Galway perform in person.
9. Say yes to performance opportunities
Say YES to any invitation to play your instrument, whether you'll be paid or not. You need experience!
10. Ask for help
If any of your classes or assignments are confounding, don't hesitate to let the professor know right away. Your fellow students may be of assistance also. Everyone wants you to succeed!
If you're having trouble adjusting to college in any way, don't hesitate to use the resources at your disposal. As far as I know, every college offers professional counseling for students, or you may wish to talk to a professor or administrator. When I was a freshman I confided in my bassoon professor K. David Van Hoesen about an upsetting situation with my two roommates. He called the dean, and that very day I was given a single room!
Attending college is life-changing. Have fun within reason, and rest assured that your hard work will pay off later.
Until fairly recently, maybe the past 20 years or so, double tonguing on the bassoon was considered a parlor trick, along with circular breathing, and few bassoonists took it seriously. Now, double tonguing is becoming a requirement for high level bassoon playing. It's becoming so mainstream that I even introduce it to my high school students (although I don't insist that they learn to do it).
Double tonguing on the bassoon is not as easy as it is on the flute or brass instruments, because the reed's location inside the mouth is an impediment. I taught myself to double tongue, and it took 5 years of working on it off and on before I could actually use it in the orchestra. I kept giving up, thinking it would never sound good enough to be useful, and that's why it took so long.
Now I believe that anyone can learn to double tongue on the bassoon. That's great news, because fast single tonguing is largely a matter of genetics (some were born with naturally fast single tonguing ability and some weren't). Although I was one of the lucky ones with a fast single tongue, it bothered me that I struggled to make it through the lengthy fast-tongued passages ofthe 4th movement of Mozart's Haffner Symphony.
Here's how I learned to double tongue. First I had to learn how to make my tongue cooperate. No words in the English language had required me to say "TaKaTaKaTaKa...etc." ad infinitum at a breakneck speed. Some people use "DiGiDiGiDiGi...etc.". Does it matter? No. Just make sure the first syllable begins with the tip of the tongue forward (in its normal single tonguing position) and the second syllable (the "Ka", "Ga", "Gi", "Ki" or whatever you choose) begins with the back of the tongue toward the back of the mouth. The distance traveled by the tongue should be as short as possible. In other words, don't place your tongue any farther back in your mouth than necessary to produce the second syllable.
I've noticed that some people seem to be able to say "TaKaTaKa...etc." fairly easily even if they've never double tongued on an instrument. I'm baffled by that, since I had to practice saying "TaKaTaKaTaKa....etc." a lot, for weeks. I practiced it while driving or walking. Eventually it became easy, thankfully, because if you can't say it, you can't tongue it.
Meanwhile, I was beginning the slow work on the bassoon. Arthur Weisberg's book The Art of Wind Playing provided the most valuable advice on learning to double tongue. He recommended practicing slowly, on one note, the following pattern:
Ending each syllable as noted above is critically important, so instead of just "Ta", it's "Tak". Instead of just "Ka", it's "Kat". Each note should be extremely short.
When learning to double tongue (and when practicing it after the technique has been learned), it's necessary to listen carefully and hold yourself to a high standard. The goal is to make each note sound identical to all of the others. That's not easy at first, but don't give up.........you will eventually succeed.
Gradually increase the speed over a period of months.
Once this pattern is stable and reliable, begin the exercise on "Kat" rather than "Tak" in order to strengthen the weaker "Kat" by placing it on the downbeat. Another variation suggested by Mr. Weisberg is to use only the "Kat" syllable.
Once your metronome is up to quarter=120 for the above exercises, it's time to begin double-tonguing 16th note scales, sometimes beginning with "Ta" and sometimes beginning with "Ka". By this point, the note endings are irrelevant, of course, because the ending becomes the beginning of the next note, so "Tak" is now "Ta" and "Kat" is now "Ka". It's wise to limit your scales to the mid range, since double-tonguing in the extremities is quite difficult.
Unlike single tonguing, it's my experience that once you learn to double-tongue, it's necessary to keep practicing it to keep it sounding good, with constant attention given to the "Ka" syllable. Once you learn to double tongue you'll always be able to do it, but refinement of the double-tonguing requires practice. (I still frequently
practice by placing the "Ka" on the downbeats in order to keep
strengthening the "Ka" syllable, with the goal of making it sound as even as single tonguing.) It's worth the effort, since the double-tonguing bassoonist will never again have to worry about any tempo being out of reach tonguing-wise. Haffner Symphony? Bring it on!
