Nagging questions

One of the most perplexing, nagging questions I have regarding the bassoon has to do with swabs.  I have 2 swabs in my case: a pull-through silk swab for the boot, and a pull-through silk swab for the tenor joint.  Swabs scare the devil out of me.  I am one of those unfortunate bassoonists who has had a stuck swab, and mine was BAD.  It was stuck in the tenor joint, and I think it happened because of knotting in the string.  (I no longer allow even the slightest knot to appear in either of my swabs!)  I can't describe the procedure which finally extracted the swab because it was so traumatic, but it involved Herculean efforts on the parts of 4 people, one of whom was bassoon repairman Carl Sawicki who provided amazing telephone coaching.

Back to the question: I have never understood how the wet swabs could possibly dry out between swabbings.  I always roll them up and place them back in the closed bassoon case after I swab.  I would think that the swabs would have to be left out to air dry in order to really dry out, but I don't do that for fear of dust getting on them.  (I have an obsessive fear of tiny particles getting under one of the bassoon's pads.  During the Nutcracker ballet, there were a couple of times when a few tiny paper snowflakes came down into the orchestra pit during performances.  Each time, I jumped out of my chair and ran out of the pit, with the bassoon, for fear of a wayward snowflake wrecking the instrument.)

I am curious about what other bassoonists do about drying out their swabs (or not).  It's important, because running a moist swab through the boot can undoubtedly lead to problems since the wooden side is supposed to remain dry at all times.  I drop the rubber weight of the swab through the wooden side first, so that the moist, lined side does not get the wooden side wet.

I mentioned Carl Sawicki who is my highly regarded repairman in Texas.  I am curious about who else is highly regarded in bassoon repair.  A good bassoon repairman is hard to find, and each of us should have a backup repairman in case our favorite becomes unavailable.  So who do you use?

As I mentioned in an earlier post, August can be a great time to practice productively, free from the challenges related to learning specific orchestral parts.  I have been spending a lot of time practicing in the high range- in fact, some days I only practice in the high range.  (That's a good way to strengthen the embouchure, also.)

Ever since I received my new Heckel I have been trying to figure out the best possible fingerings for each of the high notes.  It takes time to break in the high range, so the fingerings I chose at first are not currently the best.  Now, I find that using the high D key is best for C4 and higher.  On C#4, I no longer use both the C and D keys; I use only the D.  I'd like to know which left thumb keys other bassoonists use for the high notes.

Do you have an opinion about types of seat straps?  Some players prefer cup straps, which I'm using now, but some prefer hook straps.  How about you?  I've heard some bassoonists claim that the hook type can place too much stress on the U-tube, which seems odd to me.

OK, that's probably enough questions for one post.  To consolidate my questions, here they are:

1.  Do you dry out your swabs after swabbing?
2.  Who is your repairman (or who have you heard positive comments about)?
3.  Which left thumb keys do you use for high C4 and above?
4.  What type of seat strap do you use?

Please either comment at the end of this post or email me at betstur@aol.com.  I will post the results, anonymously so that no names are attached to responses.

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bocal placement

For quite a while I have been wondering about the issue of how exactly to line up the bocal when assembling the bassoon.  Whenever I try someone else's bassoon, invariably I find that the other bassoonist places the bocal at an angle which is awkward for me and I have to turn the bocal to the right to be able to play on it.  I decided to analyze bocal placement to see if I should make an adjustment.

Bocal placement, the exact angle from which the bocal emerges from the tenor joint, may seem like an odd topic for a blog post.  However, it influences the manipulation of the left thumb keys.  Unless the player happens to have a very large hand, it can be nearly impossible to depress the high D key without accidentally depressing the low B flat key, and possibly also the low B key which automatically depresses low C and D.  That's not good, since the depression of any of those low keys alters the pitch and timbre of the high D.  The older Heckels don't present as much of a problem with left thumb reach, but the newer Heckels can be very challenging this way.  Other brands vary regarding left thumb reach, and of course the size of the player's hand is a factor.

The angle of the bocal determines the angle, or the placement, of the bassoon in the player's hands.  The slightest change in the bocal position results in considerable change in the playing position of the bassoon, and therefore the ability of the left thumb to reach the high D key without obstruction.

I asked a colleague how he determines the angle of the bocal.  His answer was that he lines it up the whisper key pad with the nub on the bocal.  (When I lined up my bocal with the nub, it ended up being farther to the left than I normally place it.)  That seems logical, but look what happens as the whisper key is gradually closed:

If the pad is parallel to the nub with the key open, the key closes at an angle, and the pad rests on the nub at an angle:

The bassoon can function like this, but I'd say that the above angle at which the pad hits the nub is not ideal,  not optimal.

So I turned the bocal slightly clockwise, to the right.  Now, the bocal looks like this with the whisper key open:

Because the whisper key rotates as it closes, it now closes perfectly:

For years it had been my habit to line up the bocal with the high A key, so that it looked as if the end of the bocal lined up with the A key.  (I was instructed to do that by one of my teachers.)  On the other hand, most bassoonists seem to line it up with the high D and C keys, which is much farther to the left.  After the above analysis, I am now lining my bocal up so that the whisper key pad closes perfectly on the bocal nub, which means that I am now placing the bocal slightly father to the left than previously, and it looks as though the end of the bocal is halfway between the A and the D/C keys. 

While this may not seem like a big deal, I am happy to report that this bocal placement has also created a playing position for the bassoon which maximizes unimpeded left thumb reach of the high D key.  Hmmmm....maybe the Heckel factory intended for it to be this way.

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When the music stand is empty....

This is when I practice best, when the music stand is empty.  There's no major performance right around the corner that I must prepare for.  I am well aware of certain performances coming up this fall, but I believe that the practicing I'm doing now, without any music on the stand, will pay off later.

August is the perfect month for this type of practicing.  I recall August 2 years ago, when I was really starting to enjoy practicing nothing but slow scales and arpeggios, paying special attention to the beginnings of articulated notes.  (It was at this time that I stopped referring to note beginnings as "attacks," since I sought non-explosive note beginnings!)  Midway through August I received a phone call from a woodwind colleague in the orchestra who informed me that that parts to the John Adams Chamber Symphony had arrived.  Immediately, I had to start woodshedding the incredibly difficult bassoon part which was to be performed in early fall.  I was disappointed to have to divert my attention away from the work that was really productive.

This August, I have been trying to find the best location in my house for practicing.  I think that the ideal practice room is neither too live nor too dead.  Recently I came to the conclusion that I've been practicing in too dead a room.  (I was going through some old recordings, and came across one of a mystery bassoonist from several years ago.  It sounded impressive, and I thought that I'd really like to sound like that.  Then I noticed that the recording was labeled and dated.  It turns out that I was the mystery bassoonist, shockingly.  I was playing in the house I used to live in, which had wood floors and high ceilings, and far superior acoustics to where I live now.)  I often record my practicing, and the dead acoustics I have now are not flattering at all!

In my current house, only my bedroom has hardwood floors, so now I'm practicing there.  It is a small room with a low ceiling, though, and the bed absorbs a lot of the sound. The room adds a ring to the sound which I'm still getting used to. 

When I was a student at Eastman, I used to practice in all types of practice rooms- sometimes in really dead rooms, sometimes in more live ones, and when I really wanted to sound my best, like right before the concerto competition, I practiced in the very echo-y stairwell (late at night, when almost everyone had left).  I remember speculating with fellow students that if we could manage to sound good in a dead room, then we could certainly sound good anywhere!  That may be true, but I think we benefit from hearing ourselves in a variety of spaces so that we are never shocked by sounding different in an unfamiliar acoustical environment.  And there's no doubt that good acoustics are inspiring.

So now, in my new practice space, I am getting used to hearing an unfamiliar ring created by the bedroom floor, ceiling and walls.  If the room were bigger, it might be a great practice space.  But the small size causes some odd acoustics.  For example, if it sounds as if 2 notes are not matching in sound, it could be that the sound waves are refracting.  I will be able to tell only when I play those same notes in a larger room where refraction is less likely.

At times like this, when the music stand is empty, I don't plan my practice sessions.  I try to let the bassoon decide.  I usually start with some sort of slow scale, paying very close attention to every last detail, from the note beginning of the first note to the taper of the final note, and making sure that pitch and tone match from note to note.  I also aim for a smooth, connected flow from one note to the next, as if blowing up a balloon while playing the scale.

Often, I will find myself focusing on a particular scale or arpeggio based on whatever seems to be needed.  (That's what I mean when I suggest letting the bassoon decide.)  For example, I have been uncomfortable with the pitch of Bflat 2 lately.  It wants to be sharp.  So this is the perfect time to wallow in Bflat major for a while, playing slow scales, thirds, arpeggios, long tones.  My Heckel bassoon (#15421) is still very new, and I believe that the notes can be trained to play in tune.  Although I don't look at it constantly, I have my Boss TU12H tuner on the empty stand in front of me, so that I can glance at it whenever I hear something askew.

I like to spend time in the extreme high range also.  I have some high solos coming up this season, and my new bassoon has yet to be tested publicly in the high range.  When I glance at my tuner during high E (E4), I am thrilled to see what my ear also tells me- that the note is not flat the way it is on so many bassoons!  I try to spend a lot of time playing various types of scales and exercises in the high range.  Most bassoonists believe that the high range of a new bassoon takes a long time to break in, and our orchestral parts rarely take us up into the stratosphere!

Invariably, I end up playing excerpts from some of the pieces coming up this season.  (Orchestras seasons generally run from fall until the end of summer, so the Columbus Symphony's 2010-11 season begins in the fall.)  Try as I might, I just can't forget about the job-related challenges!  But I stick to my August rule of no music on the stand.  Sometimes i play a melody by ear just because i think it's a good idea to be able to do that.  I also take the time, during August especially, to hear each note in my head before I play it.  August is a great time to really get in touch with the instrument, free from job-related responsibilities.

A few basics for young students

1. Breathing: Use the diaphragm to breathe deeply. Practice breathing by lying on your back on the floor with a heavy book on your abdomen. The book should rise when you inhale and sink when you exhale.

2. Sitting position: Sit up straight in the chair, leaning slightly forward with your hips acting as a fulcrum. Your head should be in a natural position, looking straight forward, not looking up or down. Adjust the height of the bassoon so that the reed easily aims straight into your mouth.  Your sitting posture should be the same with or without the bassoon; if you are contorting to accommodate the bassoon, then it's time to readjust.

3. Embouchure: Wrap your lips completely around your teeth and push your lower jaw back, forming an overbite. (The teeth never touch the reed.) All pressure on the reed is applied from above. (Never push up on the reed!) If your embouchure is too tight you will constrict the reed, preventing it from vibrating. Your embouchure needs flexibility so that it can loosen for lower notes and tighten for higher notes.

4. Reed placement: Be sure not to place the reed too far into your mouth- generally, aim to insert about half of the blade. More of the reed should be inserted into your mouth for high notes and less for low notes.

5. Sound concept: It’s advisable to listen to recordings of bassoonists to develop a tonal goal. The solo recordings or youtube videos of Klaus Thunemann, Gustavo Nunez, Judith leClair, Nadina Mackie Jackson, Bernard Garfield and Milan Turkovic are highly recommended.

6. Intonation: One of the most challenging aspects of bassoon playing is intonation. Most notes on the instrument have a lot of pitch flexibility, and bassoonists need some sort of guide to refer to- preferably an electronic tuner like the Boss TU-12H.  This particular tuner is no longer manufactured, but I just bought one on eBay.

7. Rhythm: Rhythm is a critical aspect of performance, and metronome practice is essential. When sight reading, remember that rhythm is top priority. If the rhythm is right, other flaws can be overlooked, but if the rhythm is flawed, nothing else matters.

8. Musicianship: Musical sense is best learned from listening to lots of performances and recordings of great singers, string players and pianists.

9. Vibrato: When learning vibrato, it’s helpful to practice pulsating (loud-soft-loud-soft, etc.) in a set rhythm on long tones. (Try it on the reed alone first!) For example, with the metronome at 60, pulsate 4 times per beat, and when that becomes reliable, try 5 times per beat. It’s ideal to be able to vary your vibrato in speed and fluctuation. But first make sure that your straight tones are steady! (Practice long tones with and without crescendos and diminuendos to stabilize your straight tones.)  One of the biggest challenges of using vibrato on the bassoon is figuring out how to match vibrato from note to note, since some notes vibrate easier than others.

10. Practicing: Never practice a mistake! If your playing isn’t accurate, don’t go on- stop, fix the problem, then proceed. Fix problems by slowing down! Find a tempo at which you can play the passage, and become rock solid at that tempo before increasing it. It often helps to make up little customized exercises. For example, you may wish to focus on just one interval at first, and then gradually add more notes one at a time. Applying dotted rhythms or other rhythms is often helpful, and removing all articulation so that you are slurring everything is a great way to ensure accurate finger motion. If the problem persists despite your careful efforts, take a break.

11. Care of instrument: The bassoon should never be laid down. Disassemble it and put it in its case (being sure to swab the boot!) if you don’t have access to a bassoon stand. Don’t lay the boot flat in the case without swabbing it first. The bocal should be cleaned once every month or two, preferably with a bocal swab. Key oil should be applied every few months to each moving part.

Poulenc Sextet

The Columbus Symphony Woodwind Quintet recently performed the Poulenc Sextour with pianist Ahlin Min.  The quintet has not been very active lately, so at first we may have felt a bit like fish out of water.  But the Poulenc Sextour is like a romp through a field of wildflowers- fun and perhaps, dare I say, a bit frivolous.

Frances Poulenc lived from 1899 until 1963 in Paris.  No wonder he felt so at ease with the woodwinds!  France (especially Paris) was considered the epicenter of woodwind playing during his lifetime.  In fact, there were some U.S.conductors during the first half of the 20th century who insisted upon hiring their entire woodwind sections from France, which, of course, meant that le basson français was used instead of the German bassoon which is used in today's American orchestras.

Poulenc described his Sextour as "chamber music of the most straightforward kind: an homage to the wind instruments I have loved from the moment I began composing."  The piece is fundamentally light-hearted, but with many sudden mood shifts which were so characteristic of Poulenc's writing- a playful, jaunty phrase is sure to be followed with melancholy.  (The music critic Claude Rostard described Poulenc as "part monk, part guttersnipe.")

Poulence used the bassoon in this piece for the jovial as well as the mournful effects.  In fact, twice he sends the bassoon out on a solo mission to promote seriousness.  The unaccompanied solo in the first movement:

often sounds unwieldy to me.  While thinking about how I wanted to approach it, I tried to bear in mind that it was written for the French bassoon- the light, nimble and lyrical French bassoon.  I have heard American bassoonists phrase this solo in a manner I don't care for.  Specifically, the phrase seems to stop and start, with vibrato being applied to certain quarter notes (which to me sounds affected).  I prefer a more smooth approach, striving for the long line.  Because of the solo's built-in awkwardness, though, this is easier said than done!

Toward the end of the piece, the same unaccompanied solo morphs a bit and descends into the lower range, with similar phrasing challenges:

 Poulenc was a great pianist, and he played the premier of this work himself.  The piano definitely takes a leading role in this piece, rather than one of accompaniment, and we were fortunate to work with a pianist of Ms. Min's caliber.

If you'd like to hear our performance, here it is:
  

 

Symphonic significance

There is much speculation these days regarding the viability of symphony orchestras.  Let's face it; they're expensive to run and U.S. orchestras must rely heavily upon donations to survive. Orchestras now face competition from many other forms of live entertainment and from the internet's endless supply of recordings and videos.  Understandably, orchestras throughout the country are suffering financially.  Not all orchestras are struggling, though.  For example, there was good news about the Minnesota Orchestra on the internet today.  The Minnesota Orchestra surpassed its 40 million dollar goal for renovation of its hall!

Within any large city there exists a segment of the population  which truly appreciates the opportunity to attend live symphonic concerts performed by musicians who live in the community.  The civic pride associated with sports teams can apply to symphony orchestras as well.  Loyal symphony fans often speak of the incredible visceral energy of a live performance which keeps them coming back.

Benjamin Zander, the outspoken and charismatic conductor of the Boston Philharmonic, does not agree that only a small percentage of people "get" classical music.  He insists that classical music is for everybody- it's just that they haven't found out yet!  He proves his theory in this video.




Arts managers estimate that approximately 3% of the population appreciates classical music, but Zander's experiences, as you can see in the video, suggest otherwise.

That visceral energy of a live performance is difficult to describe.  I have vivid memories of certain classical music performances which I will never forget.  In some cases I was a member of the orchestra or chamber group performing the music, and in others I was an audience member .  These memories include precise auditory detail along with the sensation of being in the midst of ineffable greatness, and in some cases I can even picture the conductor's expression during a heart-stopping moment.  Although I am sometimes deeply affected by listening to recordings, my most memorable musical memories are of live performances.  One example is Mahler Symphony No. 6 which I performed with the Colorado Music Festival Orchestra in Boulder.  Musicians from orchestras all over the world participated in that once-in-a-lifetime blockbuster performance.  There is no video of that performance  (you had to be there!) but here is a sample of Mahler 6 featuring Valery Gergiev conducting the London Symphony Orchestra.



What an unspeakably powerful piece!

The ancient Greeks took it upon themselves to explain how music works.  They proclaimed that music was about relationships among invisible, internal, hidden parts of human hearts and souls.  Music moved those parts around until the positions were "right."  The 7th grader in Zander's video demonstrates this theory, as the music seemingly found and re-positioned the movable parts of his inner being, enabling him to finally release his grief and to cry over the loss of his brother.  The residents of Manhattan also proved the ancient Greek's theory in the aftermath of September 11, 2001.  Their first organized efforts following the tragedy involved music, including performances of the Mozart and Brahms Requiems, which they intuitively knew would contribute to the healing process.  Other cities throughout the U.S., including Columbus, followed suit.

The first time I ever became consciously aware of the effect of live classical music was when I was 8 years old playing in my school's marching tonette band.  (A tonette is a plastic recorder-like instrument for children.)  I recall the thrill of the experience- it was almost as if an electrical spine-tingling charge surged through my body- as we marched through the center aisle of my school's auditorium during an assembly.  A few years later when I was a teenager I heard a live performance of the aria Voi che sapete from Mozart's opera Le Nozze di Figaro.  It was probably the first time I had heard Mozart live, and the young woman singing the aria was immensely talented.  I was completely overtaken.  Have you ever had goosebumps from listening to music?  If so, chances are it was live classical music that you were listening to!  The following video of Maria Ewing singing Voi che sapete provides a reminder of that stunning live performance I remember from so many years ago.



Three hundred years ago the English dramatist William Congreve wrote the following:

Music has charms to soothe the savage breast,

To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Surely such charms, along with the symphony orchestras which offer them, are timeless.                 

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Dances and Dreams

On June 18, a few musicians of the Columbus Symphony with guest pianist Ahlin Min are presenting a chamber music concert entitled  Dances and Dreams to benefit the Columbus Symphony.  The music of Debussy, Stravinsky and Poulenc will be performed by the Columbus Symphony Woodwind Quintet, Columbus Symphony violinist Tatiana Hanna, and pianist Ahlin Min. Although admission is free, donations are welcome and will be fully donated to the Columbus Symphony.

Columbus Symphony's Principal Clarinetist David Thomas organized this event, and part of his plan was to hold a June 5 "preview performance" in his beautiful house:



David's house is located in Clintonville, an older (early 1900s) neighborhood within the city of Columbus.  I was so impressed that Martin Inglis and his wife Sue Inglis showed up early, laden with cases of fine wine and huge platters of catered food to offer the guests, and then they stayed late to clean up!   Our orchestra is incredibly lucky to be so strongly supported.  Martin Inglis also happens to be the Chair of the Columbus Symphony Board of Directors, and Sue Inglis is a very active member of the Columbus Symphony Orchestra League and Music Director Search Committee.

The evening was delightful in every way. The atmosphere was perfectly festive, with appreciative guests, memorable refreshments, exciting live classical music, and of course, David's lovely house and gardens.  David was so pleased with the evening that he wrote about it on his blog.

Here's a brief comment from a grateful concert attendee who visited David's blog:

It was a fantastic evening! I know it takes time and energy, but this is so good for Columbus--to have some of its best musicians giving chamber recitals like this. Good for the musicians too.Thank you to Susan and Martin Inglis for the wonderful wine and food . It made for a perfect evening.

Even though this performance was a preview of the main event occurring on June 18, donations were eagerly accepted, and were doubled by our anonymous donor.  Thank you to David Thomas and his Columbus Symphony colleagues, to Sue and Martin Inglis, to our anonymous donor and to all of  the people who showed up on June 5 and who will show up on June 18 to support the Symphony!

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