When we first hear our recorded voice played back, often we feel uncomfortable. The source of this discomfort lies in a duality of mind and physical matter. We think that we are producing one sound, yet the reality tells us something else. And we experience cognitive dissonance, a sensation caused by the mismatch between what we expect and what we perceive.
Beyond the environmental factors affecting the two sounds -- the acoustic qualities inside our heads that influence how we hear our voices internally and the surrounding acoustics that generate resonances that the microphone picks up along with our voices -- we hear the two sounds differently because we are not aware of the gap between what we think we're doing and what we actually are doing.
A simple example. A mythical musician holds his instrument with intention. He puts the recorder to his mouth and begins to play. We turn off our ears and watch the performance. The seriousness on the player's face, the dramatic physical gestures with the swinging arms, the furrowed then lifted eyebrows: we are viewing a magnificent performance. Now we turn our ears back on. The sound is dreadful, the intonation is out, there is no sense of rhythm. This extreme example is only a short distance from the reality of many musicians. Unless we are very careful, there will always be a mismatch between our musical hopes and the actual physical product emanating from our instruments.
The solution to the implied problem is simple to state. However, the realisation of our musical imagination in actual sound is a far distant dream. And to make our dreams come true, we must traverse a path that simultaneously demands us to be highly self-critical and intensely self-aware. The journey promises to be challenging, depressing even, and yet fulfilling by requiring us to open our minds to our own creativity.
Sunday, 16 January 2011
Musician in sound or in mind?
A few months ago, I had a world-view shattering realisation. I feel musical, and when I record my singing I'm generally pleased with the musical intentions, even if the actual voice quality is poor. I can use my singing as a useful starting point for developing an interpretation of a piece. I feel musical and can offer my students valuable insights into the works that they are studying. I feel musical and can appreciate the output of the very best recorder players quite satisfyingly. In other words, I wasn't unhappy with my level of musicality, beyond the usual caveats about wanting to be better, have deeper interpretations, know more about the background to studied works, etcetera, etcetera.
Then came my realisation. However good I am as musician, I'm a lousy recorder player. Somehow, I'd assumed that my singing, my feelings, my knowledge would mean that I'd be a good recorder player. And I left it at that. The cognitive dissonance on hearing my playing was always rationalised as something like I'll get better through practice. What constituted 'practice', though, was not really working.
I need to explain what I mean by calling myself a rotten player. A successful player is able to capture musical intentions in the sound produced. In other words, a listener is able to hear the various sound manipulations and recognise them as musical expression. An awful player might feel identically to the good player in every way; indeed, they might even be 'better' musicians. The difference lies in the sound. The bad sound simply does not contain those elements of expression required to convey the music. It's as simple as that. The process of becoming a better player is equally simple: to learn to control the instrument's expressive capabilities and deliver a requisite sound.
Music exists only in the mind. I had forgotten the essential equation for performers: the vehicle for mental music is the physical sound, change the physics to explain the meaning. I was imagining the music in my head, playing it blandly and never stopping to consider the actual sound.
Unforgivable.
Then came my realisation. However good I am as musician, I'm a lousy recorder player. Somehow, I'd assumed that my singing, my feelings, my knowledge would mean that I'd be a good recorder player. And I left it at that. The cognitive dissonance on hearing my playing was always rationalised as something like I'll get better through practice. What constituted 'practice', though, was not really working.
I need to explain what I mean by calling myself a rotten player. A successful player is able to capture musical intentions in the sound produced. In other words, a listener is able to hear the various sound manipulations and recognise them as musical expression. An awful player might feel identically to the good player in every way; indeed, they might even be 'better' musicians. The difference lies in the sound. The bad sound simply does not contain those elements of expression required to convey the music. It's as simple as that. The process of becoming a better player is equally simple: to learn to control the instrument's expressive capabilities and deliver a requisite sound.
Music exists only in the mind. I had forgotten the essential equation for performers: the vehicle for mental music is the physical sound, change the physics to explain the meaning. I was imagining the music in my head, playing it blandly and never stopping to consider the actual sound.
Unforgivable.
Recorder Pose -- Part Two
The Recorder Pose (RP) is really a set of preparatory drills. They aim to address certain technical elements and to prepare a mind-set for playing. With the usual caveat that nothing is set in stone, here is an RP worked out in note form.
The Breath
The target sound is that pure, simple note that carries no artifice. It should be the easiest thing in the world to create: just blow a clear, straight sound. Yet, years of technical and musical development somehow have resulted in muddying this simple act. Play a few open notes (i.e. no fingers on the instrument) and check the following:
The Tongue
The position and placing of the tongue body influences the tone significantly. So, too, does extraneous muscle movement in the mouth. The imperative, therefore, becomes to adopt a position that is open enough to allow the breath to flow unimpeded and that is fixed enough to avoid unnecessary movements. Follow these checks:
The Fingers
Van Hauwe describes the fingers as the slaves of the recorder. Unfortunately, these slaves tend to be as demanding as masters. Indeed, in a past reincarnation, my recorder practice may have been accurately characterised as me being a slave to my fingers. Instead in this RP, the fingers are re-assigned to their inferior role, and only a couple of criteria are accorded to their needs.
Initial Notes
Before the RP is complete, a few trial notes are necessary. The following checks will ensure a good RP.
The Breath
The target sound is that pure, simple note that carries no artifice. It should be the easiest thing in the world to create: just blow a clear, straight sound. Yet, years of technical and musical development somehow have resulted in muddying this simple act. Play a few open notes (i.e. no fingers on the instrument) and check the following:
- the sound is pure
- the breathing apparatus is relaxed
- there is no tension in the mouth, tongue, throat, lips
- the body is relaxed
- the wind is directed freely and is straight
The Tongue
The position and placing of the tongue body influences the tone significantly. So, too, does extraneous muscle movement in the mouth. The imperative, therefore, becomes to adopt a position that is open enough to allow the breath to flow unimpeded and that is fixed enough to avoid unnecessary movements. Follow these checks:
- Tongue in 'ch' bite
- Articulate 'd' while minimising tongue tip movement
- Articulate 'd' to check tongue tip contact with the palate
- Reduce the palatial contact until air still flows when the tone is cut ('s' articulation)
- Notice the air stream against the tongue during 's' articulation in different registers
- Re-establish full palatial contact but as minimal as possible
- Vary the palatial release speed in different registers
The Fingers
Van Hauwe describes the fingers as the slaves of the recorder. Unfortunately, these slaves tend to be as demanding as masters. Indeed, in a past reincarnation, my recorder practice may have been accurately characterised as me being a slave to my fingers. Instead in this RP, the fingers are re-assigned to their inferior role, and only a couple of criteria are accorded to their needs.
- Check if the knuckle-instrument axis is exactly parallel
- Check each finger's tension level with close to zero being the target
- Check that the finger upward action is relaxed
- Check that the finger downward action is a true release and not a push
- When the above checks are in place, make sure that the upward and downward actions are done with 'click'
Initial Notes
Before the RP is complete, a few trial notes are necessary. The following checks will ensure a good RP.
- Is the sound still pure on repeated notes?
- Is the sound still pure on scales?
- Is the sound still pure on intervals?
- Is the sound still pure on large leaps?
Friday, 14 January 2011
Recorder Pose -- Part One
Often in the middle of a practice session, I realise that something isn't quite right. It may be that I haven't checked on my tongue position and that it's slightly less stable than it should be. Or it may be that I haven't adjusted my hand position to have the knuckle-instrument body axis perfectly aligned. Something like that: a technical point that I've worked on that isn't yet proceduralised although I know the mechanism and purpose.
When I remember the particular point I want to give myself a quick kick up the proverbial. I know that the sequence of learning requires a lot of repetition and that items will be forgotten regularly. But I still feel silly after working through a sequence over the course of a week only to forget all about it the following week. To help eliminate these memory lapses, packaging the whole playing set-up into a single concept seems to be a sensible, efficient idea. In other words, rather than try to memorise by mental force all of the elements of a good playing position, it seems worthwhile to create an overarching notion of that position, a notion that contains the elements in their proper order.
Each element needs to be understood and mastered individually. The playing pose assumes that each element is mastered to the current level and that the role of each is known in relation to the whole. The playing pose becomes, initially, a target for practice. After that is achieved, it becomes a single target comprising its compound actions that are done instantaneously. Practicing the playing pose actually means speeding up the process of mentally listing and physically enabling each element one-by-one until the pose can be achieved swiftly.
The actual elements are subject to change for a variety of reasons. As the depth of technical understanding develops, more aspects of technique become subjects for inclusion. As weaker practices becomes clear, they need to be addressed in the pose. Conversely, some aspects become proceduralised and no longer require direct attention. So, although the concept of the pose retains its integrity, its internal constituents undergo alteration.
For now, the imperative is to create the first working model of the Playing Pose. That'll be the subject of the next note.
When I remember the particular point I want to give myself a quick kick up the proverbial. I know that the sequence of learning requires a lot of repetition and that items will be forgotten regularly. But I still feel silly after working through a sequence over the course of a week only to forget all about it the following week. To help eliminate these memory lapses, packaging the whole playing set-up into a single concept seems to be a sensible, efficient idea. In other words, rather than try to memorise by mental force all of the elements of a good playing position, it seems worthwhile to create an overarching notion of that position, a notion that contains the elements in their proper order.
Each element needs to be understood and mastered individually. The playing pose assumes that each element is mastered to the current level and that the role of each is known in relation to the whole. The playing pose becomes, initially, a target for practice. After that is achieved, it becomes a single target comprising its compound actions that are done instantaneously. Practicing the playing pose actually means speeding up the process of mentally listing and physically enabling each element one-by-one until the pose can be achieved swiftly.
The actual elements are subject to change for a variety of reasons. As the depth of technical understanding develops, more aspects of technique become subjects for inclusion. As weaker practices becomes clear, they need to be addressed in the pose. Conversely, some aspects become proceduralised and no longer require direct attention. So, although the concept of the pose retains its integrity, its internal constituents undergo alteration.
For now, the imperative is to create the first working model of the Playing Pose. That'll be the subject of the next note.
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