Finger mechanics

Precise and smooth finger motions are the key to technique. This is true for slow notes as well as fast ones. Fast notes are just coordinated finger motions, the fingers don't need to move any faster. And it's possible to practice just the motions. I was impressed watching one of my son's piano lessons the other day, how his teacher wanted just a particular smooth circular movement from the wrist and arm. When done correctly, the notes underneath came out in a beautiful flowing torrent.

I've long been convinced that my fine motor control is worse than average. Among other things, I get a shaking tremor in my fingers, sometimes vibrating more than a cm back and forth. I know a bit about it: it gets worse under fatigue, or anxiety. It runs in my family, so it's likely genetic. I'm mostly convinced it's some mild variant of Charcot-Marie-Tooth, though I've never been diagnosed, and not that knowing the name would help anything. As far as playing goes, it's evidently not so debilitating that I'm unable to play at all. However, I constantly have to put a great deal of attention into my fingers, and am always wondering how "normal" my experiences are. Not that that matters either. We all have flaws and advantages, and have to compensate for them and use them as best we can.

Looking for information, I found this video on focal dystonia. Dystonia is different, since it's acquired, not inborn, and likely acquired through overtraining. It's sometimes career ending for musicians, though. Certainly watching that saxophonist attempt to work the keys kinda squicked me out. Although the causes are different, I wonder if the exercises that get suggested for dystonia would be helpful me.

Dynamics and intonation

The biggest things I'm struggling with, in the university orchestra, are intonation and volume. The bassoons were being constantly shushed in the first couple rehearsals, and several times I got called out for being out of tune. Since intonation is an ensemble thing, maybe it's not surprising that I would struggle when jumping into a new group, particularly one that has much higher standards. Still, it's embarrassing at best. I spent some of the weekend playing perfect intervals against a loud synth tone from my iPod, and maybe it helped. At least, the conductor never once bothered to interrupt the entire orchestra in order to single out my intonation, so that's an improvement anyway.

Dynamics is another matter. Some of it is just focusing on being quiet in the quiet bits, and trying to do more with the phrasing. So 90% is okay, but not perfect. But there's one spot... a ppp open F, soli 2nd bassoon entering with 2nd clarinet, in the Egmont overture right after Egmont gets his head cut off by the violins. He's spent rehearsal time on it in every rehearsal, I spent my lesson time on it, I've worked on reeds for it, I've blogged about it, and it's not there yet. I think I can do better, but it'll be work. Double reeds just can't get as soft as other instruments, something that's worthy of a technical blog post at some point. I did talk to the clarinettist, to beg for a bit of mercy. Apparently he was trying to hide in that entrance, since he was uncertain about the pitch. (He's got an open G, I think?) Hopefully if I can convince him to come up to pp or so, we'll be able to have a bit of balance while I can have a decent chance of sound coming out. The other tricky part of that passage is the rest of the notes. It's supposed to be very legato, but my tonguing at the edge of sound production resulted in too big a gap between the tones. Maybe I'll just try slurring everything.

Serious orchestra again

For the next few weeks I'll be playing a couple of minor pieces with the university's orchestra. I've subbed in with them before, but this is the first time I've been scheduled to play with them. It's a fabulous experience, since the level is so much higher than my usual. First rehearsal was a few days ago, and things went mostly fine. The big repertoire for this show, including the wonderful solo in Firebird, is being handled by their two performance majors, so my job is primarily ensemble playing. But man, playing accurately and sensitively enough to fit in is not easy. I got called out a couple of times, both times for being too loud. One spot is a triple-p 2nd bassoon solo entrance on an open F after a pause, with maybe one clarinet and nothing else, which was both too loud and sharp. Clearly I need to spend some more time on dynamics and reeds. Mostly my practicing focuses on smoothness and beautiful full tone, and haven't concerned myself with how immediately and securely the reed responses when playing softly. I also think it's funny, getting nailed on something that might be the first note you'd teach a new bassoonist. Reminds me of my attempt to find something I could play well, except here, I wasn't able to play it well enough. Just goes to show, the things you think you need to work on, and the things you actually need to work on, may not be the same.

Remember that three-year-old conductor?

The guy whose enthusiastic interpretation of the last movement of Beethoven 5 became a viral video? I remember thinking, wow, if this guy keeps going, someday, after many years of work, he could be standing in front of a real symphony orchestra. And it's all turned out to be true, except the "many years" part. Here he is at age four. His stickwork has become a little more conventional, but the same joy is still there.



The original video:

Performance

Had a few days off of bassooning for a work trip. As it turns out, I ended up with a bit of performance experience: I had to give a brief commendation as part of an awards ceremony. Shouldn't be a big deal, but I still feel like an imposter in my area, and the audience consisted of hundreds of the top people in my field, so even brief spots of visibility can be important. Worse, the format of the event had me standing awkwardly around on stage under the lights for a long period waiting to give my piece. And in some ways something short is more difficult than something long: if it's long, you can get used to being up there performing, but if the entire performance is thirty seconds, then your only impression you leave is your initial impression. Still, I was pretty happy with having had my musical performance experiences to draw on. I knew that what I was feeling inside is almost unconnected with the audience's experience of the event. I knew that the physiological feelings of racing heart rate etc were just that, invisible internal physiological reactions, and not harbingers of a debilitating career-destroying panic attack. I had practices to draw on: stand up straight, smile, and breathe. And I knew the importance of preparation and practice. Unfortunately I drafted my words on my iPod, which decided to get confused and unreadable when I put it on the podium under the lights. I was left with being completely ex tempore, which is to say improvising, but I got through it with only a minimum of stumbling. I felt fine afterward, happy about the performance, which is probably the most important thing, after being willing to do it in the first place.