Sunday, August 17, 2014
One of the MOST Important Lessons I have EVER Learned
I'm happy to say that, as a musician, I am still learning.
In many ways, I am still discovering the profundities that teacher shared with me decades ago.
In the mid 1980's, a teacher, John Daniel, talked to me about how being a musician is 50% craft (or skill), and 50% artist.
I thought I "got" what he said then, but, even today, I am learning from that moment.
No matter your "instrument" (a wind instrument, voice, piano, a "rhythm" instrument", or baton), until you learn the "craft" of your instrument. ... Until you get so familiar with it that it feels like one of your limbs, then you will ALWAYS be hampered from expressing ... anything.
So, you HAVE to go through a rigorous process of getting to know your "axe".
THAT is the "craft" or "skill".
---
There was this one piece I played on euph, as an undergrad.
Every time I had done this piece before, my peers had described it as "nice".
---
Then there is the "art".
I remember sitting in a Master Class with the Empire Brass Quintet, in the early 90's.
I'm pretty sure it was Sam Pilafian that asked an undergraduate player, after listening to his solo: "What story are you telling?"
When the amazed kid had no answer, Sam's answer was: "If you don't know the story you are telling, then you CAN'T play the piece."
About 12 months later, I played a piece written for euphonium, without accompaniment, as a clinician, with a high school band. (same piece as above)
It was "mournful", and I had played it several times before, with success.
This was my best performance of it EVER. ... My "craft" was at it's peak. ... My internal story was of the most painful loss of my life, up to that time.
I asked the kids to tell me "the story" of what I played, after they heard it ... and I gave them NO clue as to what I was going to play.
---
So, there I was. Just me and my euph ... the sheet of music in front of me, and this story, from my life in my head.
In terms of technical precision, it was probably my worst performance of that piece, ever.
On the other hand, it wasn't just the kids in the classroom, it was the teacher's monitoring the room that were tearing up, if not outright crying.
---
Up to that point, I had been SO focused on technique and precision.
Until Sam reminded me what music and performing is about, I had been obsessed with "craft". ... To the point that I was just a "craftsman", in performance, and no longer an artist.
I was an artisan manipulating an instrument, up to that point. ... I wasn't "telling a story" with sound.
---
Sam, and a conductor I worked for, Bob Shoaf, taught me, that as musicians, in private practice, and ensemble rehearsal, we should be precise, if not "anal", craftsmen at our work ...
HOWEVER ...
Once it's time to "play the gig", GO FOR IT! ... The time to "play it safe", or be careful is OVER.
You have done the necessary preparation.
Ignore that "inner voice" that is critical of everything you do and ....
In many ways, I am still discovering the profundities that teacher shared with me decades ago.
In the mid 1980's, a teacher, John Daniel, talked to me about how being a musician is 50% craft (or skill), and 50% artist.
I thought I "got" what he said then, but, even today, I am learning from that moment.
No matter your "instrument" (a wind instrument, voice, piano, a "rhythm" instrument", or baton), until you learn the "craft" of your instrument. ... Until you get so familiar with it that it feels like one of your limbs, then you will ALWAYS be hampered from expressing ... anything.
So, you HAVE to go through a rigorous process of getting to know your "axe".
THAT is the "craft" or "skill".
---
There was this one piece I played on euph, as an undergrad.
Every time I had done this piece before, my peers had described it as "nice".
---
Then there is the "art".
I remember sitting in a Master Class with the Empire Brass Quintet, in the early 90's.
I'm pretty sure it was Sam Pilafian that asked an undergraduate player, after listening to his solo: "What story are you telling?"
When the amazed kid had no answer, Sam's answer was: "If you don't know the story you are telling, then you CAN'T play the piece."
About 12 months later, I played a piece written for euphonium, without accompaniment, as a clinician, with a high school band. (same piece as above)
It was "mournful", and I had played it several times before, with success.
This was my best performance of it EVER. ... My "craft" was at it's peak. ... My internal story was of the most painful loss of my life, up to that time.
I asked the kids to tell me "the story" of what I played, after they heard it ... and I gave them NO clue as to what I was going to play.
---
So, there I was. Just me and my euph ... the sheet of music in front of me, and this story, from my life in my head.
In terms of technical precision, it was probably my worst performance of that piece, ever.
On the other hand, it wasn't just the kids in the classroom, it was the teacher's monitoring the room that were tearing up, if not outright crying.
---
Up to that point, I had been SO focused on technique and precision.
Until Sam reminded me what music and performing is about, I had been obsessed with "craft". ... To the point that I was just a "craftsman", in performance, and no longer an artist.
I was an artisan manipulating an instrument, up to that point. ... I wasn't "telling a story" with sound.
---
Sam, and a conductor I worked for, Bob Shoaf, taught me, that as musicians, in private practice, and ensemble rehearsal, we should be precise, if not "anal", craftsmen at our work ...
HOWEVER ...
Once it's time to "play the gig", GO FOR IT! ... The time to "play it safe", or be careful is OVER.
You have done the necessary preparation.
Ignore that "inner voice" that is critical of everything you do and ....
