TOPIC POST

-Playing straight horns versus attachment horns.
-Summer music roundup.
-Notes about recordings.
-Bye bye Scott and Sarah McElfresh, how will we replace you?
-Ideal first/second/third players?
-History of fries and pie.
-Purpose of fries and pie?
-Best concert you've ever played.
-Concert attire.
-What's in your case? What are the things you carry around all the time?
-Horn cleaning 101.

on marching band memories

Temperatures and heat indices have soared here in the past couple of weeks, making practicing in my tiny apartment something of a challenge. And by "a challenge", I mean "nonexistent". No matter how many curtains I close, where I put my fans, or how much ice I put in my swamp cooler, my apartment is still unfortunately hot.

The swamp cooler: doesn't quite make the apartment a practice-encouraging temperature. 

This all reminds me of the days during summer break from high school when I would set about memorizing my marching band music in my sweltering hot upstairs bedroom at my mother's house. We had an air conditioner, but we ran it in the downstairs living room, and all of the heat rose... to my bedroom. I spent many a night sleeping on the couch in the cold, and many a hot summer afternoon torturing myself by playing the trombone in a hot room.

Why? Well, to prepare myself for mid-August marching band rehearsals, of course. True, we had them in the morning, so it wasn't at the hottest that it could be, but it was still hot -- and in Northeastern Ohio, it was humid. I was no stranger to endless stretches of 100% humidity days, with the sun beating down on our only-sometimes-sunscreened heads, girls wearing as little clothing as they could get away with and boys going shirtless. Several times, all I wanted was to march the drill barefoot.

To be quite honest, I miss it. I miss the farmer's tans we all inevitably got (especially the poor flute players with those armband lyres -- ugh!), the avoidance of certain people who sweat a lot more than everybody else, and the water breaks when we'd all run to the small section of shade on the far end of the field. I miss using AOL trial diskettes as extra spot markers, keeping stashes of  SweeTarts for my squad- and section-mates, and carrying drill sheets rolled up and tucked into the back waistband of my shorts. It was hard work, and I loved every second of it -- even the hours memorizing music in my sweltering hot bedroom.

Ah, motivation. That was when I had it. Now what reasons do I have to practice in my ninety-degree apartment? Absolutely none. I'd rather just sit in front of my fan and play video games.

CD review!

I've been on a "pick random CDs from my local library's collection and give them a listen" kick, and with that I bring you a review of John Adams: Century Rolls / Lollapalooza / Slonimsky's Earbox.

Weirdly, we talk about John Adams in this blog fairly regularly (well, what counts as "regular" for us, anyway). In case you haven't caught on, he's a prolific modern American composer who usually writes in a minimalist style. His stuff isn't the epitome of classical music, but rather often a fun excursion into the many things that music can simply do. That, and he writes operas about such personalities as J. Robert Oppenheimer and Richard Nixon, which makes him way cool in my book.

This particular CD is most notable for the piano concerto Century Rolls, performed by none other than Emanuel Ax and the Cleveland Orchestra. Listening to this work is truly a musical experience; the first movement, aptly named "First Movement", is inspired by a mechanical piano, featuring the orchestra acting like percussion instruments beating a solid, robotic backdrop to the piano solo. The second movement, "Manny's Gym", could not be more different. It is a romantic song in 3/4 (I think!), with a free tempo and beautiful expression by both Ax and the orchestra. My favorite movement, however, was the third -- "Hail Bop", named after a mishearing of the name of the "Hale-Bopp" comet. It has a jazzy feel to it at times, combined with frenetic tempos and disconcerting brass punctuation. Sometimes, it feels like an eight-minute-long musical chase scene.

Lollapalooza, for orchestra and a kickass low brass section (I just made that up, although writing that in the score would probably be helpful), was the highlight of the CD for me. As a linguist, I love it when composers try to play with language in their musical themes. In this piece, the main theme is a five-note loud brassy thing that mimics the stress pattern in the title word. It comes out at expected times, and some unexpectedly as well. It's almost a cacophony of themes interwoven, but make no mistake -- the brasses are in charge of this piece, even though the timpani has the last word with a single stoke in silence at the end. I would dearly love to see this piece played live.

The last piece, Slonimsky's Earbox, didn't really catch my interest. It is a tribute to Nicholas Slonimsky, who wrote a book of scales and modes called The Thesaurus of Scales and Melodic Patterns, which Adams says influenced his work. It has a number of scalar themes and modal games, which might interest those of you with an ear for theory. I did enjoy the wild ending, but the rest of the piece pales in comparison to the other offerings on the disc.

I would highly recommend giving this CD a listen if you're in the mood for some musical fun. This isn't a relax-around-the-house CD, nor is it something I'd want to do spring cleaning to, but if you've got an hour to experience some work by a modern composer, definitely check this one out.

on not posting for a while and small horns

Boy, we have been away, haven't we? Trust me when I say this was totally unplanned. Oh, what, I wasn't supposed to tell them that? Err... well, gentle reader, trust me, we had this planned all along.

So in honor of Summer Concert Season, and the inevitable boredom it brings with playing marches and cheesy Broadway medleys, Jon and I have broken out some... unusual horns. I'll leave him to discuss his, but for the moment, I'll discuss mine. You can almost see parts of it in the picture below!

This horn is colloquially referred to as the Dumpster Trombone, a name which fits since it describes how I acquired it. Its real name is Henry, named after Henry Fillmore, who wrote the first piece that I ever played on the horn. (This is, coincidentally, how my other trombone got the name Dmitri. Guess who!)

When I found Henry, he (it?! pronoun failure!) was tarnished all over. I didn't even know that was silver under there, since I thought it was all dirt. I polished it as best as I could, but the slide was in terrible condition. (It kind of reminded me of a horn I played at the RLMU, but that one stayed tarnished and didn't have a slide lock. Coincidentally, that horn went missing for a few years after I graduated... maybe someone threw it in a dumpster, too.)

Anyway, Henry sat in my closet for two years until Jon proposed that we try straight horns for this summer's concert season. I dragged Henry out and reminded myself of how terrible the slide was, and promptly took him to Volkwein's Music. The pros there fixed up my slide so that now it is infinitely more playable (even if it still has a slight hitch to it at times), and even buffed it up so it's nice and shiny.

This horn sounds incredible. It's a small bore, and so my volume has skyrocketed, but combine the volume with the silver and... mmm. The sound is so different from my Conn 88H-CL that I can't even compare them. I'm having trouble blending a little bit, and by far the biggest problem I have is with third and fourth position. The slide on this horn is long, and shaped differently from what I'm used to. The practical upshot of this is that I have no idea where third or fourth position really are at any given time. I have had to play around a lot with my intonation to figure out what was going on at all, and I just haven't had enough face time with the horn around other people without a tuner staring at me.

Then, today, I picked up my 88H-CL and played my warmup on it. Ahh... it felt like coming home. It's almost as if I relived the switch all over again.

on recordings... again

I'm sitting here waiting for my car to be repaired, managed to steal a WiFi signal, and so I thought -- what better time to update the blog?

Uh-huh. 

I mentioned last time that the AWCB was doing a recording session. The first round of it was this past Monday, we will take a week off for the Memorial Day holiday, and then we'll come back and do another recording in the first week of June. I expressed that I was worried that we were under-rehearsed, and my fears were definitely confirmed. We did several takes of each piece, especially Suite of Old American Dances. I was personally disappointed in my own performance in our recording of this piece, and I think most of the band wishes we could have a collective mulligan.

There were, however, really good parts of each take we took of that piece. I am hopeful that by the miraculous tactics of recording engineers, they will be able to crib together a version that somehow incorporates the good parts of each take and eliminates the bad parts. Now, I can't wait to hear the final version of the recording, and I will make absolutely sure to post my reaction when we get the final product.

I do enjoy that piece very much, especially since someone had the bright idea that the first trombones should have a chance to play really loudly in the meaty range. I think Jon and I nailed that particular lick very nicely on one of the takes, and I hope with a musician's sometimes-futile hope that they keep THAT version for the final copy. 

On Chair assignments- part two

It’s coming up on summer again, which means it’s time for the annual reordering of the chairs. For reasons I’ll get into below, this isn’t going to amount to much. But having talked last week about some of the chair placement philosophies I’ve encountered in my checkered trombone career, this week I’m going to talk a bit about how they have adapted my personal philosophy on chair placement.

One of the big differences between what I ran into before the AWCB and after was that, with a few exceptions, almost every group I played in previously had been an academic ensemble with some sort of audition process. In the AWCB, we essentially take everybody that shows up, and as long as they follow the rules, they can stay and play. As I’ve mentioned before, we’re much more likely to kick somebody out for being a jerk than for being a bad player. This means that one of the primary considerations in assigning chairs is what people actually want to play, and what will make them happy. This goes back to those first experiences in the community orchestra. If I’m going to take somebody out of their comfort zone and make them play a part they’re not best at, I try to tell them as far in advance as possible so they have the opportunity to do the work necessary for them to succeed.

This has lead to some sticky chair placement situations in the past. We had, for a while, a guy who fancied himself a fantastic trombonist, but whose only real talent was playing loud. He couldn’t play fast, high, low, or quiet, and didn’t even play loud particularly well unless you like a really wide, spread, brassy sound. But he had attended a local music school, and claimed to have a degree from it, and essentially insisted on playing first because he felt he deserved it. We reached a bit of a compromise, in that I let him play first often enough to feel he was being respected, up until he blew a couple of prominent licks and the conductor uncharacteristically told me to not allow him to play first at all. He got insulted and left.

Summer provides its own set of issues, with vacations and distances that some people are not interested in driving for a concert. The most important things for these sorts of gigs are to remain flexible and make sure the parts are covered. For the most part, I try to keep stand partners together but spread parts out over the summer. This accomplishes three things: it maintains some stability, but gives everyone at least passing familiarity with the differences in parts, and makes things a little easier by ensuring that nobody is going to be playing first trombone for two hours.

For right now, a good part of the chair assignments take care of themselves. We have two players who like to play second, and one who likes to play third. I like to play first, whether I deserve it or not; I’m just more comfortable on the part, maybe because I’ve been playing it for so long. (I feel like I need to justify that, like I’m afraid to be perceived as the same as that guy in the third paragraph. I think pretty often that I need to check my ego and play another part for a while, but ego or not, I just like first parts!) The remaining folks, actually some of the best players in the section (including my co-blogger) are pretty easygoing about it, and will generally play whatever is needed. My personal preference, though, is to break up the better players so we have one on all three parts. This has been more of a concern in the past as the talent level has fluctuated, and we’ve had to try to shore up parts with extra players.

But for now, for the most part, it seems like everybody is happy where they are. I plan on asking one of our better players to move a little bit, and sort of reaffirm our seating now that it looks like we’re going back to a reasonably stable configuration for a while. But that’s not a bad thing, and it certainly makes my job easier!

on recordings

So the AWCB is doing recording sessions in our next rehearsals. The idea is, generally, to put together a CD of light summer fare that we can sell at our summer concerts. We have hired a recording engineer to come in and record us as we play in an auditorium, and (I think) mix it up so it sounds nice; this is different from the recordings done of concerts (we have several of those) which are victims of local acoustics.

Personally, I have been part of a number of scheduled recordings like this. The Symphonic Band at the RLMU was part of a number of recordings of new band music for sampler CDs for band directors. Most notably, however, I was in the band that recorded Jim Bonney's Courage and Compassion, which appears on BCM's Men of Industry CD. It's a great piece of music, truly, and the recording experience was intense (and Jim Bonney is an amazingly inspirational person).

The difference between that session and this session with the AWCB is one simple thing: rehearsal time. With the RLMU band, we rehearsed C&C for about two weeks solid, nothing but that. When we did the band sampler stuff, it was two or three grades underneath what we played regularly and so it wasn't a problem for most of us to sight read it.

Although many of the people in the AWCB have played most of the music previously, it feels like we are not gelling in that way that you need to in order to get a decent recording. We've read through the pieces a few times and had a somewhat rushed rehearsal this past week, and I get the feeling that we're going to be spending a lot of recording time doing things that should have been done in rehearsal. But maybe we will find our sea legs and get it together at the last moment (as the AWCB is very good at doing) and create a fine recording. I'm hopeful for the latter, although the lack of rehearsal time sure makes me nervous. Either way, I'll make sure to blog about it next week!

On Chair assignments- part one

I mentioned a while back that I’m not really the section leader of the AWCB, and never officially have been. What I am, semi-officially, is in charge of chair assignments and making the little musical decisions when they affect the section, but not enough to catch the attention of the conductor, just the little things to unify our sound. I don’t have to do much, mainly because we’ve played together for a long while as a section and we’ve got enough solid musicians that for the most part, everybody knows what’s expected and what’s coming. But I have been thinking for a while about shuffling seating, which has gotten me to thinking about how that happens. In part one (this one right here!) I’ll share some of the systems I’ve seen over the years, and in part two next week, I’ll explain the thought process that we go through in the AWCB now.

Back when I was about 15, I started playing in a local community orchestra. Long story short, I had no idea what part I was playing at any point in my experience there. I was handed a first trombone folder when I got to the first rehearsal. Three rehearsals in, I was told there was a regular principal, and I should play second. Then the conductor told me to cover first for rehearsals, but practice second. Then at the dress rehearsal, the principal and second trombonist appeared for the first time, and were very angry that I had taken the music home to practice, and with one rehearsal, I was given the first bass trombone parts I had ever seen, and ridiculed for never having seen a pedal A before. This had a profound effect on my views on how to assign parts. (The whole story of that first year could be a good one for the “horror stories” tag!)

I think everybody has played in groups that audition for parts, like our local honors bands: the highest audition score sat first chair, and so on down the line, except when a bass trombonist did better than a tenor and screwed everything up. (Which was actually the case when I was in high school.) Around here, seating in the district bands was assigned entirely on the conductor’s recommendations, although moving up to regions required an audition. This lead to some “best trombonist[s] in the history of our school” getting seating precedence over trombonists who were not the best from their school, but would have been if they had been at the other school. In one group I played in while in high school, seating was assigned based on sitting next to the section leader for a couple of weeks. He then made a recommendation to the conductor, who assigned me a chair based on their need and the section leader’s assessment of my abilities. That group was extremely serious, though, and would move people around on a nearly weekly basis if somebody had a hard time with a part. I recall a trumpet solo being passed around right up to the dress rehearsal and being glad that I was never under consideration for a solo in that group, although I did have to play solos a couple of times in rehearsals when the conductor wasn’t happy with the way the section leader was playing that week.

In college, I auditioned for a band that did assignments a little differently. The highest audition score got first chair, just as expected. But the second highest audition score, or the highest bass trombone audition score, was first chair third trombone, and the third highest score was given first chair second trombone. The sections were then filled out from second chair first trombone down in order by score, with bass trombonists filling third part preferentially. The theory there was that it was important to have excellent musicians on all three parts, and the conductor felt that third trombone was often more important than second trombone, in that a real bass part was often distinct from first and second. (There is definitely an argument to be had about that philosophy, but either way, that’s the way things were done!) Seating preference was given to music majors, even though this was theoretically an open band for non-music majors with a stated goal of participation, rather than education. I heard that some seat shuffling was done based on people who couldn’t handle the amount of rehearsal and practice that was expected through the semester, which was a large part of why I declined to participate in the ensemble.

In assigning seats in the AWCB, I once again don’t have to do much. We’re a pretty easy going bunch, although we all seem to have our preferences and there are definitely some innate abilities that drive decisions. Next week, I will tell a little bit about how I picked over the techniques above and then ignored them to let the section more or less assemble itself!

April Recap

April: 25.5 hours = win!

In April, I made my practice goals for the first time since January. \o/ Also, I was pleased with my consistency of practice -- no more than one day off consecutively, and a fair amount of 7+ day strings of regular practice. 

I think I can attribute the success of April to two things: 1.) the new mouthpiece at the beginning of the month breathing new life and interest into my practice regime, and 2.) a pretty big deal concert on May 1. I had something new and interesting to play with, plus something generally motivating me.

This far into May, I am mostly unable to keep up the consistency I did in April, due to my long, exhausting days on Tuesdays and Thursdays that result in me being unfocused and generally tired and grumpy when I get home. I'm trying to make up for it with longer blocks of practice time on other days, which is working pretty well so far. 

Performance review: Perfect Daughter's Annie (with a big heap of bias on the side)

You have to understand something. The musical at my high school was, and remains, a big freaking deal. I've seen a lot of high school musicals, and played a lot of high school musicals, and been in a few, and almost none of them can even compare to ours in terms of scope, execution, budget: they put on a good show up there. There were, if I remember right, nearly 200 little girls trying out for the parts of Annie and the orphans, and there were some good ones in the bunch, not the least of which was my own Perfect Daughter. Obviously, I guess, she got the part!

I know I'm biased, I really do, but I thought she was fantastic. I was afraid I couldn't sit through it; I was absolutely worried sick for her. Would she forget her lines? Talk to fast, too slow? Too quiet? (That would have been intensely ironic!) Well, I can tell you. I hate auditions. I made a comment at some point that the only thing worse than taking an audition is waiting for your kid to go through one. I can now tell you that waiting for that first set of lines to go through is another notch worse than that. Fortunately, PD's role of Molly has the first lines of the whole show, so that got out of the way fast, and she has her first big number in Hard Knock Life, the second number of the show. I can't describe the feeling of relief that flooded over me as she did her imitation of Ms. Hannigan spot on.

And just to show that my bias isn't overwhelming, I wasn't the only one that thought this about her. The folks behind me had been to see the show the night before with the other cast, and had a lot of nice things to say about PD's chemistry with the cast, and her timing in delivering punchlines. And I have to point this out. When I went to give her flowers after the show, the little beast was surrounded by admirers seeking her autograph. The thing about this was that she's usually got pretty good handwriting, but was scrawling out "MOLLY" on all the programs she was offered in a much scratchier hand. I asked her about it, and she said, "Well, Molly never got to go to school!" That blew my mind.

It was a lot of effort (mostly by Mother of PD, again!) but I think the results were worth it.

Oh, and a bunch of other people were in it, too, and many of them were pretty good!

Concert Review: Three Rivers Community Band Festival

So on Saturday, May 1st, I had the delightful experience of participating in the Three Rivers Community Band Festival for the fourth year, and my second year being a part of the "Festival Band". I wrote about this last week, and I'm pleased to report that I only messed up half of my vibraphone line, but believe I got the important bits right at least. The recording will reveal just how terrible I really was, so I'm not sure I want to listen to it.

I must say that our band really performed nicely; we rocked Equus, and even though a couple of parts were off a little bit, I don't think anyone noticed and the rest of us were counting like fiends so we were able to recover without a missed step. The Treasurer said that he thought we sounded excellent, although we were lacking a little spirit in Silverado, but I, for one, was chop-exhausted by that time.

I spent the morning rehearsing with Denis Colwell, Professor of Music at Carnegie Mellon University and former conductor of the River City Brass Band, and the rest of the Festival Band. This was quite an experience. Professor Colwell was very relaxed with us; instead of directing us on every little piece of the music, he let the band do its thing and find its sound. We rehearsed large chunks of music rather than tiny pieces, and the best part of the morning was when he told the baritone section "Miss notes if you have to, just give me the feel of the line". They didn't miss the notes, and we got the feel. Amazing what a few words can do!

The other guest bands sounded great, of course. We had the Youngstown Community Concert Band in attendance, and they were a treat. Their sound was very good and solid, and they had a gutsy brass section. I talked with a few of their members afterwards, and they were all very excited to be there, and "it was only an hour and a half drive!" They've got stamina, that's for sure. The Community Band South played Shostakovich's Festive Overture, which always gives me fond memories of cruising down Route 161 in Columbus, Ohio, with the windows rolled down and the music blasting. The West Hills Symphonic Band played a piece I had never heard before, Morning, Noon, and Night in Vienna by von Suppé, which was a charming overture to a stage comedy with humorous melodic lines. Of course, there was much more music than this, but I present only the highlights... you should have been there if you wanted the whole show!

There are always CDs produced of the Festival, so in a few months when they're finally produced, perhaps we will be able to post some excerpts.

on unusual doubling

Well, tomorrow is the annual Three Rivers Community Band Festival. Four bands from the area will perform, and then a "festival band" made up of volunteer musicians from all around the area -- and some from Ohio, too, like my friend Cari who is coming in to play bassoon!

I'm playing with the Festival Band for the second year in a row. Jon played last year, and was going to play this year but was sent to far away places by The Man. I, myself, will only be with the trombone section of the Festival Band for three of the four pieces on the program, and I'll be hanging out by the chimes and vibraphone for the fourth piece.

This isn't the first time I've switched instruments for one piece in a concert, and probably won't be the last. This is actually remarkably common for the AWCB -- three or four people rotate into the percussion section from wind sections depending on the percussion needs of the pieces being played. Two years ago, I played a pretty rockin' bass drum line on Danza Final. I learned to play percussion by pretty much learning on the fly in the University Band at the RLMU, thanks to some very patient sectionmates who frequently had to teach me things like "how to hold the tambourine". I played percussion in that band for three years (and somehow eventually attained section leadership, those fools), and sometimes I miss taking out my aggressions on a pair of crash cymbals.

At any rate, I've never really seen a band that had as much regular section-switching as the AWCB. I'm not sure if that's simply a function of my lack of experience with community bands in general and the practices associated, or if it's yet another way that the AWCB is unusual. At any rate, it gives me a chance to hit something (which may be quite welcome), and rest my trombone chops for a little while at least.

on making mistakes

I came across a quote the other day:

nobody notices your mistakes as much as you do

I think the intended meaning of this quote is simple -- don't be afraid to make mistakes, and don't stress out over them when they do happen. However, I took a different and more trombone-related meaning from it.

When you're practicing, no one can hear your mistakes except you*. So no one can fix those mistakes except you. There's no one to point them out, no one to suggest corrections, no one to stop you mid-phrase and go HEY WHY DID YOU PLAY IT THAT WAY?!

You're it. So maybe the message is not to stress out about mistakes, but another message is not to ignore them either. I'm very guilty of this. I'll flub an articulation or play a rhythm wrong, and think to myself "Oh, I know how it's supposed to be" and keep going. And not fix it. What does this accomplish except giving me reinforcement to make mistakes? 

So -- yes, nobody notices your mistakes as much as you do. That also means that it's up to you to fix them.

*and your angry upstairs neighbors. 

On your children following in your footsteps

So I have recently become two things of which I am not particularly fond: a stage parent and a hockey parent. My perfect daughter (age 8 ½) is performing the part of Molly in the local high school production of Annie starting this weekend, and my youngest (age 5) recently started in developmental hockey, and is doing a skating program over the summer. I’ve spent a lot of time since high school playing in musical pits and a bit less time playing hockey of many varieties, so it’s fun and validating to see my kids having fun doing something I really enjoy. Now, to be fair, the kids’ mom has been doing the bulk of the heavy lifting in regards to the stage performance, which has been grueling and hugely time consuming. But even with the handful of rehearsals I have seen and chauffeured for, I am getting a glimpse of things from the other side.

I’m sure a lot of people have heard stories about crazy hockey dads starting fights over pee wee games and the like. And anybody who’s played a high school musical has run into the mom (usually!) who is rabid about getting her kid the lead whether they deserve it or not. The hockey parent who harasses the coach over playing time, or inserting some esoteric scheme that will highlight their kid. The stage dad who thinks the department should do Miss Liberty because their daughter is perfect for the Countess. (Ok, seriously for just a second- find me this dad. I want to have a talk with him.)

Maybe this should be a post about my transformation, coming to an understanding of their behaviors, maybe becoming a little more tolerant of a different viewpoint on the world, but it isn’t. I haven’t run into any really rabid stage parents here, which is a good thing. I have run into some less than ideal hockey parents, the guys that bang on the glass to tell their five year old to remember what he taught them at stick time, which doesn’t begin to explain why that dad isn’t out on the ice helping mold the rest of the next generation. I’ve seen probably a half dozen kids harassed by parents into crying fits which simply does not make for an auspicious start to activities that demand a certain amount of toughness and a lot of resilience. And if you think you know which one I’m talking about, you probably haven’t done the other.

If anything, the last couple of months have reinforced my stereotypes, and made me more likely to lash out against them by being reasonable and as affable as I am capable of with coaches and directors, and by telling the hockey dads as politely and good naturedly as I can muster to buzz off when they start telling me how I should be putting out the cones. The bottom line for me is that I have enjoyed the heck out of most of the time I’ve spent playing musicals and playing hockey, and now I figure my job is to try to maximize the enjoyment my kids are getting from them by using my experiences help guide them along the way. And I’ll keep an eye on the other parents to try to get some more examples of how not to do things, and maybe, if I’m lucky, a few examples of the right way.

on trying new things

Last week, I made this sort of half-assed resolution to try three new things every week. This mostly came about because I figured out that I had tried three new things that week (a new mouthpiece, Mediterranean food, and soy milk) and, since everything worked out nicely, I felt I should continue this pattern.

The new things don't have to be spectacular, but it's all about expanding my experiences. This week is proof of that -- I have tried a new way of taking notes on articles I read for school, I tested out having Maxime Talbot as an object of fannish interest, and...

..I practiced while sitting cross-legged on the floor.

I would not advise the last one for frequent use. I wound up doing it because one day I found myself walking around almost obsessively while practicing, to the point that the walking became almost a time-waster. And then when I sat down in a chair, my cat was like "HOORAY A LAP TO SIT ON" and, despite repeated discouragement of this behavior (including a really loud musical instrument right above her head), kept trying to get on me for cuddles. She stopped at nothing to get up there, even to the point of using her claws on my legs to get my attention (ouch!).

So I plunked down in the middle of my floor, sat cross-legged, and practiced. Admittedly, my leg fell asleep after about a half hour, and my cat wound up curling up in my lap anyway, but at least I had stopped walking around and getting my legs clawed up. The only benefit to practicing in this position is that you quickly figure out just how lazy you are -- elbows on the knees, hunched posture, drooped shoulders. And then after you get all that figured out, it's really mostly just annoying in little ways like having your ankle rubbing against the hardwood floor.

I would much rather practice while sitting on the edge of a table, like I used to do in music school.

What's the wackiest thing you've done while practicing?

On being in a section

I have totally cribbed Lauren's titling style.

This has been floating around my head for a while. I don’t really have anything substantive to say about it, but I want to throw it out into the ether just to see what happens to it.

For a while a couple of years ago, I was the de facto section leader in the AWCB. I’ve never really had any sort of official post in the band, which makes me unique among the people who have been there as long as I have, at least as far as I know. At this point, I kind of run sectionals, but that’s unofficial, and mostly because the more qualified folks plain don’t want to do it. Or maybe they just want to stroke my ego a little bit so I’ll whine less, I’m not sure. But during the time that I was the de facto section leader, I boiled my expectations down to three rules:

1. Tell me what you’re going to do.
2. Do what you said you’re going to do.
3. Don’t be a jerk.
D. Do good, don’t suck.

In my time in the band, we’ve essentially kicked somebody out for violating rule 3, but that’s it. We’ve had some troubles here and there with the other two- and I’ve certainly had my share of violating all three- but I think, in general, they cover just about the whole range of things that can go wrong in a community band. The last “rule” is as much a section motto as a rule; I’m really not sure it belongs there, which is why it’s “D.” instead of “4.”. But it’s essentially the “break a leg” of the AWCB trombone section, as well as a one sentence embodiment of the other three rules, our own succinct summary of our ethic. I don’t remember where it came from, but I remember it coming up a lot around the time that I was playing a lot of gigs outside the AWCB with a trumpet player and our then bass trombonist, and I’m pretty sure that’s where it stuck to the trombone section mythos.

I’ve been in a number of leadership positions in a number of organizations, most of which had huge lists of work rules and ethics codes and all sorts of ridiculous things like that. I think we get along fine with our three. Or four.

51B, day four

Today, I felt truly comfortable on the 51B. Jon heard me play a few licks on it and commented that I don't sound terribly bright like I thought I did, which is a relief. It may just be the overtones in my head...

My staff notes sound great today. Tone was much better all around. Endurance was also much better. After my practice session, my lips ached a little bit, but I feel as though my chops got a workout -- that kind of ache, not the bad kind.

I'm feeling much better about it in general. Some articulations are still imprecise, and my partials aren't lining up quite right still, but if I keep up with the flexibility studies, I think this will improve drastically. I did a little high range work today also, and got tired extremely quickly up there. However, I did get a nice clear Eb at one point, which is a big step! I will keep working in my high range to win back that endurance.

I see no really provocative reason to continue this particular mouthpiece diary unless something truly fascinating happens, so I will quit my daily posts now and restrict myself to posting whenever I have something interesting to say.

51B, day three

Practice was not so great today, mostly because my insides kind of feel like they're about to explode.

However, I did get some face time, and here are my thoughts:

• Spent a lot of time on flexibility exercises today. Didn't get tired very quickly at all. Feeling a little more confident about how things are working, although I still feel like I am overshooting my partials a bit.
• Endurance is better. Still had to take some breaks, but I definitely could play for longer stretches and recovered faster.
• Tone is in the tank today, but I don't think this is because of the mouthpiece. 
• Managed to barely eek out a pedal F, which sounded good on the 4CL. I'm getting there!
• Played through the Rimsky-Korsakov just to see where I was. Was starting to get tired at the end, definitely. This mouthpiece really does use less air -- several passages that I struggled to have enough breath to get through before were fine (dare I say... easy) this time. 
• Sometimes when I opened up and played quite loud, my tone sounded great. Hmmm.

That's all I've got for today. 

51B, day two

Today, I would like to present a basic description of the differences between the two mouthpieces -- the 4CL and the Schilke 51B -- so that perhaps some connection can be made between my playing differences and the actual physical equipment.

Mouthpiece	Rim Diameter	Cup Depth	Cup Shape	Rim	Throat	Backbore
Conn 4CL	26mm	Medium-Deep	V	Sharp	Medium	Large
Schilke 51B	25.63mm	Medium-Shallow	U	Soft	Small	Small

(Please note that I don't have exact specs for some of these things, and the "small" and "large" are comparisons to each other just from me looking at them. Someone really needs to make a large, complete mouthpiece chart with measurements! Links appreciated!)

With that out of the way, here are my notes for day two of my mouthpiece trial fun.

• I think I am really noticing the biggest difference in the rim style. It took me forever to get used to the sharp rim, and now going back is tough stuff. I think this is the source of my endurance issues. 
• Spent lots of time on long tones today. My chops feel like they're getting used to the size.
• Bb on the second line and down -- hard to get a good solid starting sound.
• Bb (tuning note) partial is sounding great. (My biggest complaint from my previous mouthpiece/playing.)
• It seems like it is easier to play louder, and takes less air in general. Bonus? Also, I think my mezzo-forte is generally louder on the 51B. Probably due to the smaller throat/backbore -- I am used to pushing a LOT of air with the 4CL. 
• My tone feels very bright. Jon once described my tone as having a bit of a "sizzle" to it -- I wonder if this is more like "dropping ice cubes into hot oil" tone.  

Overall, I like it. More chop time is definitely needed, but lots of things are just more comfortable. I don't feel like I have to work as hard at as many things. Isn't that what we all want, really? 

51B, day one

So, after playing on a 4CL almost exclusively since 2004, I have decided to try a new mouthpiece.

I like the 4CL a lot -- it really mellows out my naturally bright tone, I have great endurance on it, and my middle range sounds fantastic. However, I seem to have hit a wall with it -- some notes in the staff (particularly G and Gb) have a "spread" sound that I can't get rid of, and I can't seem to get my high register to function past C with any success. (Note that I have always had this trouble with my high range, but I've been working harder and smarter at it lately with little-to-no actual success.)

Jon loaned me a gold-plated Schilke 51B. The diameter is a little bit smaller than my 4CL and the cup is definitely shallower and more round. And so, I have decided to present to you all a day-to-day diary of my work with this bad boy... starting today, and going until whenever I feel like I don't have anything interesting to add.

April 7, 2010: Day One

• Initial reaction: responds MUCH differently from my 4CL -- faster, easier. Switched back and forth a few times to compare. 4CL sounds muddled on initial attacks compared to the 51B. 
• Middle range sounds thin at first, but warms up. 
• Vibrato is easy -- almost too easy. I feel like I'm doing it when I don't mean to.
• Ten minutes into playing mid-range scales and simple articulation patterns and my lips are tired. Taking a five minute break.
• Post-break: Staff notes are markedly less "spread" sounding. My pedal range is gone. Hard to slur between the D partial and the fourth line F for some reason. Lasted about 15 minutes before having to take another break.
• Post-break 2: Sounds like ass. Chops are unaccustomed to this new object invading their space. Did long tones until I felt tired again. Should have given myself 45 minutes for the day, but crossed off an hour for effort.

Tune in tomorrow for another installment!