Tuning Slide 5.10- Beyond Playing Music Together

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Finding good players is easy. Getting them to play as a team is another story.
— Casey Stengel

DIY Musician is a website that posts resources and ideas for independent musicians. I came across a post there about one of the potentially most difficult aspects of musicians working together- it is musicians working together. While we trumpet players have a reputation for being difficult to work with due to supposedly large egos, the truth is that most musicians can have the same difficulty. All of us have strong understandings of who we are and what we can do. All of us want music to be seen as important to us. The better we get we also find we can be both more self-centered and more humble.

The self-centeredness comes from an awareness that we know what we are doing and are capable of doing it. It is actually an extension of self-confidence. We have to believe that we can do our music and do it well or we wouldn’t try. Then, when we work with other musicians as either paid or volunteer musicians, we expect the same level of openness and ethic with our colleagues. We don’t want to waste our time with those who may not have the level of commitment. We fear it could hurt our skills and decrease our ability to make the music we want to make. Hence, the ego shows up. I was once talking with a friend who is also a musician. We were discussing the reputation that church musicians are at times difficult to get along with. He looked at me and commented- “Practice more and get better, and you will understand! I practiced more, I got better, and I understand.

But the humility- ah, the humility. If we are honest with ourselves and others we will know both that we are better than we used to be- and most likely now even more aware of how far we still have to go. It takes time and effort to get there. And, if we are truly open to new ideas, it also means teamwork! Chris Robley on the DIY Musician site has tips about musical teamwork- the pillars of effective collaboration. He uses an example from his own story to illustrate how teamwork can and will build all levels of musicianship. He starts with the fact that when you are working on a project:

Time is your greatest resource.
Robley points out, “Athletes don’t just show up for the first game of the season. There’s months of practice (and sometimes pre-season games) beforehand.” In other words, know what you want and prepare for it before you even begin any teamwork. Finding people who have the talent and have been working toward this point is where to begin. But he also points out that talent and preparation have to:

Work with reliable people.
Yes, I have some pet peeves in this area, but I will be nice. Unfortunately, we may not always know who is more reliable until we are in the middle of a project. One aspect of reliability is that each person on a team needs to be willing to go beyond their comfort zone. This can be difficult in early team-building but it has to include expectations of the team members. What are the guiding principles and directions of the members? How do they fit together? How will you resolve concerns or differences? Reliability has to include all these things. Sometimes it is more structured than others, but a team needs to work through these.

A team, though, is more than talent and reliability. Robley calls it:

Get over yourself and take chances.
If we and our team always play it safe, we will never grow. Teams need to be growing. A musical team is no different.

Delegate- share tasks and responsibilities.
Let people use what they are good at beyond their musical talent. Groups need other things, find out what each team member can do- and let them do it. This means that there will be a leader or leaders who do their thing, but teamwork means sharing the work. Robley also points out that “it’s easier to make suggestions and collaborate when it’s clear who’s in charge of what, and who gets the final word.”

Celebrate your successes and debrief your concerns.
None of this is as easy as any set of guidelines can make it seem. Any group, but perhaps especially a musical team, has a lot of ups and downs. On any given day any one of the team could have one of those days we don’t like to think about. I arrived one Sunday morning where our quintet was playing and began to realize I was getting sick. Aches, pains, a cough, and a sore throat built rather quickly through our warm-up/rehearsal. I was far from where I wanted to be in my playing that morning. Sure, it worked, but it could have been a great deal better. I knew that I had the support of my group which helped me. That can happen to any group.

Fortunately, if all these are worked on and built upon, the celebrations will be far more common than the concerns. Make sure you celebrate in some way, even if it’s just sharing the warm glow of a project, job, or performance well done. The joy and wonder of working together with others will often keep us going through the downtimes or until we get a chance to do it again!

For me, the working team or musical group reinforces what I started with above, namely the growing self-confidence and the humble joy of people working together to make music!

How could you have a soccer team if all were goalkeepers? How would it be an orchestra if all were French horns?
— Desmond Tutu

Tuning Slide 4.34- Applying Experience

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Music is … A higher revelation than all Wisdom & Philosophy
― Ludwig van Beethoven

I keep saying that this blog is “reflections on life and music”, but then I have to admit that most of it is about the music part. Sure, I have put many connections into the posts, but I don’t often just take aim at the “life lessons” from music. I thought I would take a few weeks to talk about some of the life lessons I (and others) have gotten from being musicians. I started with a Google search, of course, and found three pages in particular that have given me the foundation for this and the next two posts.

Of course it could be argued that many of us bring these life lessons into music and not the other way around. Many of us do know that some of the things we have discovered in life are very applicable to the music side of our lives. It may be the case that people who have certain ideas, ideals, and habits more easily become musicians, but I think it more often works the other way around since most of us started music before we developed these lessons, habits, and traits. If we stayed with music after high school or college, chances are these habits grew together and became woven into the fabric of who we are.

So, with that as an introduction, let me turn to the first set of lessons. These are from a website, The Odyssey Online, where Amanda Gribbin reflected on "Eight Life Lessons Through Music."

1. Do not expect instant gratification.
2. Mistakes are okay.
3. Wholeheartedly pursue your passion.
4. Have people to look up to.
5. Keep an open mind.
6. Challenge yourself.
7. Set personal goals.
8. Working for something that you love will never feel like work.
(— Link)

Some of these are obvious, though easily forgotten (instant gratification). Some we have looked at in different ways and the application to life from music is clear to see (challenge and goals). Let me reflect on several of them. (This is something I learned from jazz, by the way. I start with an idea and then riff on it, improvise on the theme. Or is that one of the reasons I life Jazz? See how it goes both ways?)

✓ Instant gratification
I love guitar. If I want to learn any other instrument and be able to play it at least reasonably okay, it would be the guitar. Back in high school, after I was already an established trumpet player (and therefore a musician) I bought a guitar and started taking lessons. I was doing okay and, since I played trumpet in a Tijuana Brass-style group with my guitar teacher, he actually had be learn the chords for one of our TJB songs and I would play guitar when we did that song. My problem was that I was not able to be as good at guitar as I was at trumpet. At least not able to do it overnight. Instant gratification! I have since taken lessons several times and still own a guitar. There was a point when I did play more, but I never really got it. I would get frustrated and quit. In many other areas of my life I have learned to wait, be patient, do what needs to be done. I just never had the time (or took the time) to do it with guitar. I know why I am not a good guitar player today. But it never became a goal. That’s how these go together. I know there isn’t instant gratification. I also know that there are other things more important (higher priority) than being a guitar player.

✓ Mistakes are okay
We have to be careful here. Mistakes are okay if we correct them by learning from them. We must not get the attitude that if I make a mistake in a performance, eh, who cares? Expect to make mistakes since none of us is perfect. Don’t be satisfied with the mistakes and use this as an excuse not to improve. I can name many mistakes I have made as a counselor. I have forgotten important points, responded out of my personal motives, even been called on the carpet by supervisors. But I made sure I didn’t do it again- and didn’t beat myself up over it.

✓ Have people to look up to
Mentors, gurus, wise colleagues, experienced elders are all people to look up to. I still “look up to” a professor and a supervisor I had 45 years ago who set me on the path I have taken. I remember with joy a colleague who taught me more by his example how to be a person of humble spirit and soul. In all that I do, I try to incarnate the lessons they gave me. I still have people- colleagues, friends, and/or musicians- who come to mind when I need a personal reminder.

✓ An open mind
For me this is always a growing edge. In some ways it is the summation of the others. If I think I am always right, my mind is closed to opportunities and life itself. If I think I have nothing to learn from others, I am going the wrong direction. If I am satisfied with where I am today and not willing to accept challenges to grow, I might as well sell the horn. I’m done and will miss many things. Life itself is always changing. Just because it isn’t how it was when I was growing up in those “good, old days” doesn’t mean it’s wrong today. An open mind is one that is mindful of the world and able to move within it with a sense of personal acceptance and then to learn from it. Essential in our very difficult age.

✓ It will never feel like work if you love it.
This is a variation on the old statement, “If you love what you do you will never work a day in your life.” While that is an extreme statement that certainly leads in the right direction, it is a lesson we have to learn. The lesson is that even on the difficult or bad days, if you love what you do, you will find ways to enjoy it. A quote from one of the instructors at the Shell Lake Trumpet Workshop that I quoted a few weeks ago says the same thing. “If you don’t like playing long tones, you don’t like playing the trumpet.” Or at least you are playing it for some wrong reasons. Every job, every part of life, has its times of boredom and drudgery. You finish washing the dishes, and more are dirty; you get the wash folded, and there’s a new pile. Most of us in music know the feeling of picking up our instrument and having life change in an instant. That is an important lesson for all of life.

Tuning Slide 4.5- The Power of Recording

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak;
courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.
— Winston Churchill

In spite of the fact that I am often an early adopter in finding and using new technology (a geek, in other words), I have not been great at utilizing recording myself to improve my sound and musicianship. Yes, I have always agreed that it is a good idea, but, well, you know, sometimes I don’t do what I know is a good idea. I think, perhaps, that I was actually afraid to truly listen to a recording of myself for fear of what I might hear.

Sure, I have heard recordings of myself playing as part of a band, which may be where the fear actually came from in the first place. It was a number of years ago that I first did a recording of our big band and a number where I had the solo. I was excited about what it sounded like. I thought I did well. I downloaded the video onto the computer and hit play.

Ouch! There was no tone; the sound had no energy and barely felt like it was moving; it felt flat- in all dimensions of the meaning of that word. I was embarrassed for myself and felt like I should apologize to the audience and my colleagues in the band for what I sounded like.

This was before my first experience at Shell Lake Arts Center and that initial session with Bob Baca. At that time he introduced me to a number of the ideas of Bill Adam to be used in practice. I learned about blowing the sound through the notes and not at them; I learned about centering the sound; I learned about ways to actually be successful at practice. I put them into effect and, but a few months later I heard another recording of myself in the quintet and I had a whole new sound. I played it for Mr. Baca and he smiled!

I have recorded our quintet a number of times but never to focus on myself alone. I was listening for the sound of the group, how we fit together, how our balance and tone and dynamics complemented each other. I wasn’t upset about what I could hear in myself. But it wasn’t my goal.

Yet every year at trumpet camp I heard people say we should record ourselves. I thought about it and did a couple things using recordings of myself to play duet parts with myself. But, again, I wasn’t listening to me, just the notes.

I believe I was unconsciously afraid to hear what I might truly sound like. While the quote from Winston Churchill above wasn’t about listening to ourselves playing music, it still applies. If I am willing to be honest with myself and listen critically, it will take courage. Until I realized I needed to do that, I hesitated. Well at this year’s Shell Lake trumpet workshop, one of the leaders (Thanks, Quentin!) talked about how he recorded himself every night when he was on a year-long national musical tour. Then he would listen and make notes, critically, in order to improve. I realized what that could do and set my mind to do it.

Fortunately the big band had two gigs right after camp. I hadn’t asked Quentin how he did it, but I figured out a method. I set my iPhone on a stand right next to my music stand. In essence I was playing into the mike on the phone while still getting the overall sound of the band. The first gig’s recording was disappointing for a number of reasons beyond my control. So I erased it and set it up at the next gig. This one worked. There I was, clear as day; there was the band behind me doing its thing. Now I had to listen critically.

I have been told that the best way to give critical feedback is to give the good first as the foundation on which to build. I did that. I didn’t cringe at my sound like I did in that earlier recording five or six years ago. I liked the general tenor of my sound. I felt I was following well and that there was real energy in what I was playing. Improvement! Hearing those things first helped strengthen me for now listening for what wasn’t as positive or as musical as it could. Knowing that listening could give me clues to what I needed to work on next, I listened again.

That, too, worked. I could hear the things I was clearly deficient at. I could also hear things about my playing that surprised me. It is important when preparing to listen to yourself play from a recording that you realize that while playing you never hear yourself the way others do. We are normally hearing ourselves from behind the horn. Believe it or not that can often be louder than it truly is. One reason is that we are often hearing the sound slightly reflected off our music stand. More to the point, we are “hearing” sounds that no one else can hear- the vibrations of the horn against our lips and hear, flowing through the bones and skin of our head and face and into the inner ear without going through the air. It is the same way listening to a recording of our voice. It never sounds to us like us. So don’t be surprised at the sound you hear. It will probably have less bass and different overtones than you are used to hearing in yourself! You will also not hear yourself in balance with the rest of the band. The mike is at your stand and your sound will be predominant. If you want to hear how you blend with the rest of the band you need to put the mike out front of the whole group. But that’s not the purpose of this recording. I wanted to hear my sound.

You will hear a lot of other things. You will hear strong or weak articulations. You will hear changes in tone and color that you didn’t know were there. You will discover that things were not as alive (or more alive) than you wanted. You will hear every mistake, wrong note, slipped note, flub and frustrating fingering. You will hear how your sound generally blends with the sound of the group. Is your tone brighter or darker? Is your articulation the same as the rest of the section? Am I playing with the same musicality as my fellow musicians?

I realized that it was the real reason I was doing this. My goal was not to pat myself on the back and pin a first place medal on my shirt. I wanted- I needed- to hear this since I don’t normally hear that when I am behind the horn.

So have courage. We have a tool that musicians did not have until recently- a relatively simple and available method for recording ourselves. The simple voice memo on iPhone is all you need. The greatest part of the tool is the willingness to be honest with myself about what I sound like. I am working on it already. It seems to be working- but I won’t know for sure until I have the courage to do another recording.

(P.S. Next week I will relate this to life and even talk about what I hear about my playing and what I am doing about it.)

3.27- The Tuning Slide- Connecting the Dots

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
-Seve Jobs

This week’s quote from last summer’s Trumpet Workshop owes its existence to a 2005 commencement address by Apple co-founder, Steve Jobs. In the first story in the address he talks about the journey of life (our theme this month) as connecting dots. But, he points out,

You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.

We can only see our path of dots looking backward! The resulting summary quote, then, from last summer:

✓ Therefore make good dots

I made some good dots musically this past year.

• I met Doc!
• A dot of inspiration and humility
• I attended the Big Band and Trumpet Workshops at Shell Lake for the third year.
• Dots of learning and staying open to growth.
• I have practiced every single day since March 24 (and only missed 7 days before that this year.)
• Dots of discipline and commitment.
• I am now regularly hitting an E above the staff in my daily routine and almost getting F.
• Dots of patience and improving skill
• I volunteered at the Eau Claire Jazz Festival as a “room host”
• Dots of seeing the great future of jazz music and instruction.
• I took several lessons and spent time with some amazing musicians
• Dots of accepting my need for outside input and support.
• I have learned how to relax while playing a performance.
• Dots of acceptance of Self Two doing its work.
• I published my book, The Tuning Slide, of the first two years of this blog.
• Dots of sharing what I have learned so others, too, may learn.
• I continue this weekly blog!
• Again, dots of discipline and commitment,

As a result of these and other dots, my skill level has increased, my self-confidence has improved, my tone and rhythm have gotten better, and my life continues to be filled with music and more music! These dots also add to the ongoing theme of my life that how I do anything is how I do everything. To be honest there are non-dots from last year. Or perhaps it might be better to say attempted dots that somehow didn’t get connected in this rear-view summary. They represent things for next year (and next week’s post!) But what I know is that because I have made these dots this year, I am moving in a direction that these can be applied to more and more areas of my life.

Dots of:

• Inspiration
• Humility
• Learning and openness to growing
• Patience
• Discipline and commitment
• Volunteering and sharing
• Acceptance

In short it has been a good, and growing year. As I am continually amazed, even old dogs can learn a lot of new tricks! Thanks to all of you who have helped make it the year it was!

What dots did you make last year? How do they connect? How do they lead to your future? See you next week in 2018!

Happy New Year!

The Tuning Slide 3.22- Gratitude and Music

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude.
- Fredrich Nietzsche

It is Thanksgiving tomorrow. It is the day we single out to be grateful. In reality gratitude and thanksgiving are actually essential elements of happy and many creative lives. It can provide a sense of hope and strength in even the most difficult of times and places. It is good to take a moment this week to remember to be grateful.

Almost four years ago The Huffington Post had an article titled Music and Gratitude: The Gifts That Keep On Giving by Frank Fitzpatrick. (https://www.huffingtonpost.com/frank-fitzpatrick/music-and-gratitude-the-g_b_4401547.html) The writer had attended a rare concert by composer Johnny Mandel ("The Shadow of Your Smile", the "Theme from M*A*S*H") which was on Mandel’s 88th birthday. Fitzpatrick wrote:

I felt deep gratitude for that opportunity to be there with Johnny, my good friends and the beautiful music. I enjoyed a sonic journey back through my life — reflecting on loved ones and fond memories. It was Johnny himself, however, who brought the power of gratitude into the spotlight. With an innocent pride and profound sense of humility, he turned and thanked us for sharing with him the greatest birthday gift he could ask for — a chance to make music and to relish with us in the experience as his compositions were performed by these astounding musicians. You could see the youthful sparkle of joy in his eyes.

Truly one of the great joys of music is to be in the presence of such mastery as Johnny Mandel or Doc Severinsen or whoever your musical hero might be. Those of us who had the chance this past April to meet Doc in Eau Claire, WI, are still living in the glow of that time. I wish I could have played in the band behind him, but just to be there as the music flowed in gratitude from him was a life -filling moment. Earlier in the day we heard Doc interviewed by Bob Baca and it was amazing to see and feel a sense of humility and gratitude. It was real.

That evening, after the show in the green room I had the opportunity to be with a number of the students as they waited for Doc. When he was ready he didn’t disappoint any of us! He was as truly present with each of them (and me) as he was on the stage with the music. Again, here was a musical icon, superhero, superstar, and many other things. Yet he paid attention to us. I heard from others similar stories of their interactions with Doc. He showed amazing gratitude for what he has been able to do in his now 90+ years.

Fitzpatrick expressed in his article what I had felt from Doc:

This sense of deep gratitude, and the humility that makes it possible, is one of the most inspiring qualities that I have found in other visionaries and masters of their craft whom I have had the privilege to meet in my life….

It brings me back to my opening paragraph above about the essential foundation of gratitude. It can lead us to be more present (mindful) in daily experiences. It can fill us with those moments of awe when we play an amazing piece or participate in an equally amazing concert. It can lead us to know life in new ways. Again, from Fitzpatrick’s article:

I found myself reflecting on the deeper meaning and quality of life. I thought about the values and tools that have allowed me to be more present, to feel more deeply and to continue to reconnect to the joy in life. I remembered what my mother taught me about the power of humility and what one of my teachers meant when he said gratitude was the shortest road to joy. While music has been one of the greatest connectors for me, I have come to realize how much more empowering that emotional channel can be when I surrender to it, trust in it, and honor life with humility and gratitude. Music can, in and of itself, be a great expression of gratitude.

I believe that true musical mastery, like gratitude itself, requires a kind of humility — a recognition that something far greater than us is at play, and an appreciation for the gifts and love we have received.

No matter where I find myself in my life, I can always return to the music and the gratitude and follow that path to joy.

I don’t believe I can add much more to that, other than to take the time tomorrow to reflect on what I have been blessed and present to experience since last Thanksgiving. The joy of gratitude is real as I have had the opportunities (many of them!) to be part of things that are greater than I am. In them I find joy- and home and meaning.

What does this have to do with this month’s theme of practice? Actually everything. If we do not approach our practice, our musical learning, and our musicianship as a gift to be grateful for, we will not put the energy or care into it. I really want to say, we won’t put the love into it. If I don’t love my music and my practice of it, if I am not grateful for the growth that practice can bring, I will lose interest and not go where the music can take me. I will be mediocre, or mechanical, or emotionless in my music without love and gratitude for music.

What a gift to celebrate each day. Take time to practice and play your music with gratitude this week. It will be amazing, I am sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, a shout-out to all of you who have mentored me, played in groups with me, given me inspiration and direction since last Thanksgiving. What a gift you have all been to me. I can’t name you all for fear of forgetting someone. Fellow students, instructors, colleagues on the stage, gurus, and superstars- thank you!

Link to Huffington Post article.

The Tuning Slide 3.20- Beyond Mediocre (1)

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

If you need to be inspired to practice,
you should probably do something else
-Ted Nash

“You didn’t wake up today to be mediocre,” says a common meme easily found on the Internet. But many, myself included, spend way too much time avoiding the things that can help us move beyond mediocre or keep us stuck in ways that don’t move us forward. Which, in the end, keeps us mediocre.

Definition: of only moderate quality; not very good.
Synonyms: ordinary, average, middling, uninspired, undistinguished, unexceptional, unexciting, unremarkable, run-of-the-mill, lackluster, forgettable;
Informal -OK, so-so, fair-to-middling, no great shakes, not up to much, bush-league

That’s why so much of the research and writing on expertise and improvement focus on “deliberate” practice, working on the things that will make us better and consciously doing things that challenge us to grow. Just playing something two hours a day every day won’t necessarily make us better. With bad habits we may just become fair at being mediocre.

Brent Vaartstra on the Learn Jazz Standards website has an article outlining the Four Ways to Stay Mediocre as a Jazz Musician.

Specifically related to jazz musicians, his thoughts are just as applicable to all musicians who want to improve. I have reversed the themes into four ways to get beyond mediocre, but the idea is still the same:

• Don’t get stuck on scales
• Get out of the practice room
• Work on rhythm and time.
• Don’t beat yourself up

Let me sum up what these mean for me.
• Don’t get stuck on scales
⁃ As Vaartstra says, scales are essential, but how are we playing them? Are they just some rote exercise that we do because we want to learn the scales and let them fall smoothly under our fingers? Good. But what about the style and sound? Can we play them smoothly, with feeling and movement? Can we play them staccato with a sense of musicality? What about the tone? Do they sound like we are just rushing through them to get on with the real stuff? Talking with one of the Shell Lake Workshop participants the other day, he said that he has been working to make part of the Routine"musical". That’s the point. Every time we play we are making music! Then when that scale comes up in a piece, we can play it musically and not just by memory.

• Get out of the practice room
⁃ There are two aspects going on here. One is to get out and listen to live music when you can. It can (and should) be just about any kind of music. It is the opportunity to hear how other people make music and inspire us to improve out own. The other aspect is to get out and play with others. In jazz that can be going to an open jam. It can also be any bands or groups you can play with. Find ways to play with others! Even the best soloist must know how to play in balance and blend with others.

• Work on rhythm and time.
⁃ We often overlook this aspect of deliberate practice. Being able to read more complex rhythm takes time. For my money the two best methods for that are the Arban exercises, especially the syncopation and dotted eighth-sixteenth sections, and Getchell’s Second Book of Practical Studies for Cornet and Trumpet. More about why this is important when we talk about sight-reading. To sum it up now though, it is the rhythm that can often through us off. Rhythm is the dialect and emphasis of the music. When we can get those in our practice, we will be able to play more music.

• Don’t beat yourself up
⁃ It seems we often get back to these underlying concerns that we have often called Self One and Self Two from the Inner Game disciplines. As we work on our pieces, our less accomplished techniques, the more difficult exercises, it is easy to be unkind to ourselves- or worse, give up. Stay steady, let Self Two do what Self Two can do and tell Self One to relax and enjoy the music.

With that in mind here are the two of four ways I have discovered that these movements beyond mediocre can be of great value. I have found some of this on The Musician’s Way website (https://www.musiciansway.com/practice/) and reflect on them from my own experience in practice and performance.

Warm-up and basics.

Like sensuous opening ceremonies, warm-ups prepare the body, mind, and spirit for making music.
– The Musician’s Way, p. 37

I still haven’t found warm-ups and basics to be “sensuous”, but they are the obvious place to start in the movement beyond mediocre. As I mentioned above this can be a place to develop musicality and tone. To play that “simple” Arban routine with beauty and tone is always the goal. Some of the exercises are even performance etudes. They are how we learn to do it. A good warm-up routine, appropriate to your needs and growth is worth it’s weight in gold- and time. So are things like mindfulness and exercises like T’ai Chi and Qigong in getting the body into a healthy spot.

Listening and learning

“For you to perform with native inflection, you have to listen and listen until you break through to the soul of a style.”
–The Musician’s Way, p. 98

The more you listen, the more you learn. On one website I read the more than obvious statement that we actually learn to speak- by listening. No one tells us how to talk. It is natural. We are designed that way. The same is true for music. But there are different types of music- just as there are different languages. They all share the same notes, though not always played the same way or in the same order. Some have different rhythms and different time frames. Some are “straight” and some “swing”. How do we know how to play it if we haven’t heard it.

I was reminded of this last weekend. One of the big bands I play with had a gig at a local dance venue. It was an amazing evening for me. I found myself moving along in time (mostly) and able to go with the rhythm. I realized that I am now truly beginning to understand and “speak” the language of jazz big band. I can more regularly look at a passage and know what it probably sounds like because it is in a pattern that is commonly used in the music. I realized I was no longer reading it “note for note” but playing it out of what was called above the “soul of the style.” It is just like when I have learned a new language and found myself thinking in the language. I was no longer translating from an English thought to a German or Spanish thought. On Friday evening I was not translating a written note from one style to another- it was more often just coming out that way.

This is actually more important than it may seem at first glance. All music is language. Music is perhaps a “generic” term for different languages. Like learning any new language we do not start with the most complex words and sentences. Trying to read War and Peace before a first-reader would be most difficult. As I was watching the John Coltrane documentary the other evening I was reminded of this truism. There is much in Coltrane’s later music that I do not understand. It was a different language than any most I have known in music. It was clearly powerful and transformative. I could feel it- but I don’t yet understand it. I want to- and have been working on that for years. I know more about it today. Someday it may all fall into place.

For that to happen I have to keep listening. The many styles and languages of music will enrich my overall understanding of the depths of music and increase my vocabulary. I will be a better musician- and a better person for it.

Which, next week, will bring me to two other aspects of practice that will help us all move beyond mediocre- sight-reading and memorization.

The Tuning Slide: 3.10- Seeing Differently- Lessons from the Eclipse

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

What you see in a total eclipse is entirely different from what you know.
-Annie Dillard

I have often commented here about the need to connect our music and our lives. What we learn in one area can and should make a difference in the other. We have talked about that at Trumpet Workshop a number of times. Most of us are not going to be full-time professional musicians. We are going to be full-time something, however. The skills we use at one can be applied to the others.

It was with that in mind that I realized that there was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to reflect on a total solar eclipse and figure out what I could learn from it. So I did the following:

• Planning
  
  • Check dates, clear calendar, coordinate with family
• Waiting
  
  • In between decision and the event, there will always be waiting. You can’t avoid it so how do you best utilize the time?
• Researching
  
  • Find the path, find a city, find a motel,
• Finalize plans and equipment
  
  • What kind of filters will I need for photography, what might I want to make sure I have ready,
  • What plans can I make for a Plan B?
• Practicing
  
  • Take the cameras out with the filters, get pictures and video, work on how different settings will impact the final product.

Here, then, in a slightly longer than usual post is the result.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It is the day- August 21, 2017. We have come to Kansas City, just on the southern edge of totality. We get up early to get to where we plan to watch the eclipse, Lathrop, a small town in western Missouri where the local Baptist church (among many others) has set up parking. We plan on getting there between the early rush and the later one to give us time to relax and be ready. Here, with later additions, is what I wrote during the next four and a half hours:

• 9:00 E(clipse)-2h 40m Sitting watching the clouds. Heat and humidity in the morning sun. But oh—oh that solid cloud deck! Weather Channel app on my phone says it is cloudy now but should clear. People from Oklahoma, Minnesota, Kansas, Texas, Wisconsin around us. Sixteen cars to a row, maybe 10 rows of cars in a field at the local Baptist Church’s north campus. Cameras on tripods, fancy reflecting telescopes, folding chairs, here and there a tent or canopy. I set up my cameras and take a couple of pictures to show the sky and the full sun.
• 10:00 E-1h 40m Took a walk around the grounds. One of the attendants told me some people wanted to be here early to get a good viewing spot! “I don’t want anything in my way.” “But lady,” he added, “just look up.” “But can we leave when its done?” since some places are having all kinds of other activities. The attendant pulled up the yellow plastic tape they used to mark off the parking area. “Just tear it,” he said as he shook his head in disbelief.
• 10:18 E-1h 20m
  
  Rain and thunder for about ten minutes. Now what? Looks like it could clear to the west.
• 10:41 E-1h Still overcast and sprinkling with thunder. Storms popping up. Will it or won't it? Looking less hopeful. I want to cry.
• 11:09 T(otality)-2h Not looking hopeful. But keeping the feeling of hope alive. This can still happen if only for part of the Eclipse. Washington Post just said it is starting in Oregon. Bring the sunshine with you, please. Should I try to figure out a Plan B or just stick with what I have planned?
• 11:25 E-15m Dare I say that it looks like some possible clearing to the west? I would hate to jinx it. It is still not out of the question?!?! Just don't say it out loud. A field full of eclipse watchers holds our collective breath.
• 11:30 E-10m The rain has stopped!? Sky brightening. Walked over and bought us a lunch. Now we will see if we have anything to see.
• 11:54 E+15m My first chance to see the eclipse.
  
  The clouds clear. I zoom the cameras, take my first pictures, start the video. It is happening.
• 12:45 We’ve had a relatively good run of clear skies. Almost a full hour of variable clouds and sun. I have paid attention to the advice from a photographer I read during my research: “Take your eye away from the viewfinder and watch the eclipse itself. You may never see anything like it again and you would hate to miss it.” I took five short videos totaling about 25 minutes of different points in the eclipse. It is amazing to watch it. I have seen a number of lunar eclipses but this is different. This is the sun being blocked. It is a “crescent sun.” I have also been watching the clouds to the west and southwest. They are the real thing. My heart sinks as I come to realize that they are moving faster than the moon. They will be the eclipse I see.
• 12:52 T-15 Clouds finally move in.
  
  I take my last picture before totality. It will be the last regular picture I take. I hold my camera at ready. I take the filters off both cameras- just in case. We will have to see what we can see here. There is no Plan B.
• 1:09 Totality- and clouds. We watched it get darker and cooler. People were quiet, still, perhaps sharing a moment of sadness or grief along with the amazement. Many of us have traveled to see this and now we won’t. I watched the clouds get darker. It begins to look like a tornado storm, but it is the shadow of the moon crossing the earth, approaching us. It is not like sunset- it moves much faster than that. It gets dark quickly.
• 1:09 - 1:13-
  
  I start the video camera to get shots of the horizon in its odd colors where the clouds have broken. As promised it is a 360 degree sunset in a purplish hue. I start a video pan to catch what I can. Then, just as I was about to turn it off and start packing up, a small break in the clouds. Third contact (the moving of the moon from the sun) has past; totality is over. The darkness on the other side of the clouds has moved southeast. For a moment there is the sliver of the sun. [Looking at the video later I am amazed at watching the darkness move across the clouds, more visible in a speeded up video. I will be putting a video together in the next week of the experience.]
• 1:20
  
  Heading back to our motel in bumper to bumper traffic. Making as much as 12 mph (mostly less) for over half of the trip. It took 2 1/2 hours to make the 40 miles we had done in 45 minutes that morning.

We were home by Thursday and I was coping with sadness and depression. The long-awaited and dreamed of event was over. I was still bummed. I had done all the right things to get ready:

• Planning
• Waiting
• Researching
• Practicing

And it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. It was out of my hands. I did my part to be at the right place at the right time, but that’s as far as I could go. So it goes. Powerless!

On Thursday evening I watched a cloudy sunset and realized how different it was from what I saw on Monday. New reflections began to ease the sadness. I began to explain to others what I saw and heard. Their amazement at what had happened that they didn’t get a chance to see touched me. I began to understand that I did get to see a good deal of the eclipse, my experience of the eclipse.

In other words, by Thursday I had to come to grips with what this event was going to mean for me. I decided, by action and intuition that I had to have my story to tell about the eclipse since I was there. A solar eclipse IS a big deal. But I had two choices:

1) Be a whiner, live in sadness and despair and depression that here was this incredible chance and it passed me by. Poor me! or
2) Reflect on what I DID experience in this rare opportunity. The eclipse did not pass me by. I saw the moon moving across the sun. I was with all those people locked in a common purpose and event. I was right there in the middle of totality as it happened. The world darkened; the temperature dropped; birds returned to their nests; humans stood in awe. It truly was something that felt out of this world.

As asked by the wondrous book and movie, Life of Pi, "which is the better story?" Which story includes hope and belief, wonder and meaning? That’s a no-brainer!

Now, a week later, I am excited by what I have experienced. The more I have talked about it, looked at some of my video, and listened to other people’s experiences, the truth of Annie Dillard’s words at the top of this post sink in. What I saw in this eclipse was different from everything I have ever known, even to the point of not seeing the totality but being impacted by it.

• What happens in an eclipse is this-
  
  • Our normal way of seeing things is blocked.
  • The sun is gone, covered by the moon.

All that we think we know about the world shifts, if only for the few minutes of totality. We are forced to react and respond differently, even if we know what is happening. It is not hard to imagine what people without the scientific and technological resources would think about a total solar eclipse. It can feel like the world is coming to an end.

Here then are my initial thoughts and learnings:

• Do the necessary footwork!
• Be open for the surprises that are there, even when they aren’t what you expected. Which in reality is most of the time.
• Let the moment be real and allow it to soak in to your own psyche.
• Be aware of your story and know that you can choose how you respond to what is happening.
• Choose the better story, the one that will stand the test of time and that you will be telling into the future.
• In the end I was forced by the clouds to take my eye away from the camera and watch the eclipse- and I am better for it.

Let’s translate that to our musicianship.

The Footwork:
Do the day in and day out work to become the musician (or whatever) you want to become. How many times can I play an opening exercise of long tones or those early Arban’s exercises? One more time than I already have! I will never reach the end. It will always be “one more.” Listen to music; read about it; learn the ins and outs of it.

The Surprises:
I will never know that solo or song or ensemble piece perfectly. I need to be open at each moment for the music itself to tell me what I need to know. That’s where Self Two can begin to take over and allow me to feel, hear, and internalize the music.

The Moment:
Which moment is the most important? The one you are in right now. Is it practicing? Make it good practice. Is it performance preparation? Mindfulness. Being in the moment and letting it happen. I played in a concert last Friday evening. I allowed the music to be present within me. I heard parts of the pieces that I had never heard before since we were outside, in a different venue. Those were the surprises. So was how I felt I was playing. Self Two was definitely as work. What a moment!

Your Story-The Better Story:
This happens after The Moment. This is the reflection on what has happened. Call it debriefing or evaluation, or awareness, this is where you make sense of what has happened and place it into its proper context. It may be that your solo went better than you hoped- or not as good as you wanted. What do you learn from that? Will it stop you from another solo or will you see that it can be different next time?

Take your eye away:
That eye is often Self One ready and willing to criticize us, tell us we can do it better- or that we can never do it right. Take your eye away from the technical and just play. Just do it. Relax and “play” in all the broad meanings of that wonderful word.

Enjoy. If you have done the footwork and practice and research, it will happen.

The Tuning Slide: 3.1- Getting Ready for Year 3

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

The big question is whether you are going to be able to say
a hearty yes to your adventure.
—Joseph Campbell

Well, we are now officially ready to kick off the third year of the Tuning Slide. Technically, that won’t happen until after the Shell Lake Trumpet Workshop from July 30 - August 4. But it is time to get back into regular new posts after a series of reruns from last year.

Since the last post of the 2nd year those many weeks ago I have been finishing the editing of the new edition of The Tuning Slide book. It is done and will again be given to all students at this year’s Shell Lake Workshop. If any of you want to help make that happen, here is a link to my Go Fund Me page (https://www.gofundme.com/2du5rbtw) to support that effort. The book, which includes both the first and second years of the blog posts, will also be available on Amazon as either a hard-copy or an ebook. Watch for that information.

But let’s move on.

I have also been busy playing trumpet, reading, practicing, attending Shell Lake’s Adult Big Band Camp, and planning the new year of these posts. I am constantly amazed at how learning never ends and in even the basics, we can always learn something new. Kind of as a teaser of thinks to come, here are some thoughts to kick off the new blog year.

What I’ve learned so far this spring and summer
1) Learning the names and the feel of the scales
- It started when I was working on Clarke #3. As you probably know Clarke’s exercises start at the bottom of the scale at the low F#/Gb. Well, I started a little higher than that one day, probably at the lower Ab scale. I was working my way up the scale as Clarke sets them up. Suddenly I stopped. I looked at the notes on the page and said to myself, “Let’s skip that. I can’t play all those flats.” It was really intimidating to see 5 flats in front of me. “That’s too hard,” I added. Then I stopped.

- Oh, that’s right, it’s just the Db scale.

So I played it. No sweat. After all, that was why I have worked on scales every day for months. It was no longer an excessive number of flats that I had to think about. It was now simply the Db major scale.

- That is how the “Inner Game” works. It utilizes Self 1 and Self 2 together! Self 1 reacted. Self 2 simply said- I know that. Self 1 remembered to trust Self 2 and off they went, together, into making music!

2) The Effect on the whole body and vice versa
- Big Band Workshop involved a lot of making music! Hours of music from Friday afternoon into Sunday noon. Sure there were breaks, but unlike Trumpet Workshop there was not a lot of lecture and information breaks. We had a limited time to get a number of songs ready. So off we went to work. I wrote on Facebook after he weekend.

- My lips are angry at me and my body won’t talk to me. (All that standing during rehearsals and the concert!)

It only got worse. I had little to no recuperation time- band rehearsal on Monday evening, a big, intense concert on Tuesday, another intense rehearsal on Wednesday. On top of it all the excitement and activity of the weekend and concert prep drained a lot of energy. I was physically and emotionally exhausted on top of the angry embouchure.

- The whole body is involved in making music. I don’t think it matters what instrument you play. There is a lot that we put into it and a lot that happens. For those of us who are not at the highly-trained full-time musician level, that can cause us trouble. We have to learn to take good care of body, mind, and soul in order to make good music.

3) Trusting your colleagues on the bandstand
- Many of know of my ongoing wrestling match with performance anxiety when I have a solo. Well, you will be happy to know that in the concert back home last week I played a solo part without panic! I did one, too, at the weekend workshop, but this one was part of a trumpet opening to one of the pieces as three of us played a surround-sound antiphonal entrance.

- The reason it went as it did was thanks in part to one of my colleagues who gave me feedback at rehearsal the week before. He made a suggestion to make the part flow more smoothly and in-tune. He expressed positive comments about what I was doing. He let me know I could do it.

- We are in this together. When we sit on that bandstand, whether with 50 others in a concert band or five in a quintet, we must all be aware of and supportive of each other. If we know our colleagues “have our back” so to speak, we will relax and move forward.

So, with that in mind, here are some of the places I’m thinking about going this year. This is based on my editing together of the first two years and reliving the experiences of my personal move into a more advanced musician. I see this year as doing three things built on the basics from the Trumpet Workshops of the past two summers as well as this year. We will maintain those basics and then move in three directions:

Depth
For that we will dig more deeply into things like:

- The Inner Game and how it helps us improve.
- Listening as a musical (and spiritual) activity.
- And the road to Carnegie Hall or your own local auditorium-Practice, Practice, Practice.

Breadth
I will also look at expanding the width- the breadth- of being a musician. For this I will look at:

- Spirituality as part of music’s essential character.
- Making sure we work the physical and mental aspects together. Mindfulness, exercise, attitude will make such a difference in who we are and what we do.
- The reason we can expand and learn is the chemistry, structure, and character of our brain and the many ways we can utilize it for growth. The neuroscience is exciting- and revolutionary.

Height
All of these lead us to go higher in our level of playing and musicianship. Some of the things I am exploring are:

- Stretching one’s limits. How do we push ourselves and what does it take to keep us motivated?
- The importance of focus in this is critical. It is easy to get lackadaisical. How do I keep from being a sloppy player?
- Sharing with others is what we do. New heights of working together to make music and to help others grow along with us is one of those great side-effects of music.

Overall- I’m even more excited about this year. Lots of things will be added to this list and lots of music will be discussed. Through it all, don’t forget to have fun. Making music is to participate in a wonderful, mysterious, and even magical experience.

The Tuning Slide: Losing My Mojo

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Many of our deepest motives come,
not from an adult logic of how things work in the world,
but out of something that is frozen from childhood.
-Kazuo Ishiguro

There was a time somewhere about half a century ago when I was your typical high school trumpet player. I no doubt believed I was invincible, the top of the band's musical food chain. My sight-reading ability was somewhat lacking, but one evening of working on it at home usually fixed that and I was able to exhibit the skill that my first chair position would expect.

I don't remember any hints of uncertainty or doubts about what I could do as a trumpet player. I was lead trumpet in our stage musical. I organized a small combo to play at our school talent show and even made an arrangement of the Beatles' Help! as our number. I was lead in a trumpet quartet that played at many local churches. I was also lead in a Tijuana Brass-style group that played at both the local pool and at our town's annual Fourth of July fest. I knew I would never be a professional musician- that wasn't in my plans. I did know that I loved being a trumpet player.

I had what I might later have called "mojo."

For fifty years, I have considered Memorial Day as the day I lost it. True or not, what we believe is often "truth" if not "fact." If we believe it, it is real. Since today is the 50th Anniversary of that day, I will tell the story in full, something I have wanted to do for years.

The "Monday Holiday" bill had not yet been enacted. In 1966 Memorial Day, the day to remember those who died in battle, always celebrated on May 30, happened to fall on a Monday. It was a mostly clear, cool morning. I remember a misty fog along the river, not unusual on a spring morning like that. The sun was breaking through as I joined the group of veterans at the corner of Main and Allegheny Streets on the bank of the West Branch of the Susquehanna River.

Memorial Day always began at the river. This was a time to remember the sailors who had died in service. Since we were only a couple decades past the end of World War II the memories were personal, real and not yet part of history. They were still at the edge of current events.

(Susquehanna River Bridge, Jersey Shore, PA)

It was a simple ceremony. I don't know what was said. I remember what was done. A reading and a prayer, and a wreath tossed solemnly into the river. The honor guard rifles faced up-river, to the right in the above picture, and proceeded with the traditional three-volley salute. The volley comes from the battlefield tradition of three-volleys to indicate that the dead had been removed from the battlefield and properly cared for.

The sounds echoed from the mountains and it was my turn.

Taps.

My notes felt right. They flowed as I wanted them to. They moved up-river following the smoke from the volleys. It was an honor to be called to do this. My friend Steve, the second chair, was stationed a short distance away to play the echo. It was all moving and appropriate. It was finished.

Next Steve and I joined the rest of our high school marching band for the parade. It would be our last official parade having just graduated. The parade moved up the main east-west street through town.

(Allegheny St., Jersey Shore, PA)

We marched past what had been my Dad's pharmacy and then our house. We went by the junior high school where a Winged Victory statue remembered World War 1 sacrifices. Just past my grandfather's house a small curve in the street took us to the left-turn that led into the cemetery. The band took its "parade rest"-style position for the ceremony.

(Jersey Shore, PA, cemetery)

Speeches and honors were now given for all who had died in the service of the country. For a small-town in Central Pennsylvania, we had our share of names on the veterans' memorials downtown next to the Post Office. There were 45 who died from World War II, and another 9 from Korea. Many hundreds served.

But that's another story.

My memory of that day is fixed with what happened next. The three-volley honor salute was finished. It was not the first time I had been in this cemetery and heard that. This was my fourth or fifth Memorial Day parade. Beyond that, my dad, a veteran of WW II, had died about 18 months earlier. The volley had echoed from the hilltop cemetery on that cold December day. Now I was standing but twenty yards or so from his and my mother's graves,

Again, time to play Taps. I was focused and ready to go. Taps is not difficult to play. It is ingrained in every trumpet player's mind. Its haunting sound is as familiar as our own name. Steve had gone to the hilltop behind us for his echo response to my call.

Perhaps I was nervous, or, at the other extreme, over-confident. I don't remember any performance anxiety at that time. This was not my first public solo performance. Most likely I was just careless.

Three notes in I choked. Everything I knew about performing disappeared. I had forgotten to let the water out of the horn. The sound started to gurgle, the notes lost their clear intensity. My mind went into auto-pilot, which 50 years ago did not include the simple act of letting the water out in one of the pauses at the end of a phrase.

I finished with the gurgles seeming to mock me even more intensely when Steve's echo sounded so perfect to my ear. I was upset at myself. I had let the veterans down. I had let my father down.

I was ashamed.

I had one more opportunity. There was one more short parade that afternoon in nearby Salladasburg. There was one more cemetery with Taps.

(Salladasburg, PA, cemetery from Stacy on Find a Grave)

That, too, became an embarrassment. I flubbed a note at the beginning and, yes, I again forgot to let the water out. That, I am sure, was more nerves and, even more likely, inexperience.

But it became my experience. It became, for me, a defining moment in my musical life. It made me, in my mind, a sloppy trumpet player. One day in May 1966 set a standard of self-understanding that I have spent half a century trying to change. My low sight-reading skills added to it three months later when I did not pass the audition to get into the marching band at college. I never thought until recently that they simply didn't need another freshman trumpet player at that point and it had nothing to do with my ability. The Memorial Day experience was already coloring my personal lowering expectations.

A couple weeks ago I wrote a post on how logic and emotions interact. My now ancient story is as good an example as I can imagine. In the great scheme of things, even the past 50 years of my own life, that Memorial Day series of flubs isn't even a drop in the bucket. If anyone noticed then, or remembers it today, I would be shocked. I did what I could and I did it well. My logical brain knows all that. It knows that the gurgling sound of a trumpet is not the end of the world- and that very few people even heard it.

But there was a sense of failure and shame connected to that moment in my memory. It had more to do with standing mere yards from my parents' graves than it did about the hundred or so people who were there. It was connected with my own needs to live up to perfection for my deceased parents. In that moment I failed.

Here's how that all works in us. We start with:

• Principles:
  
  • Values
  • What you stand for
  • Your personal foundation

These don't change much over our lives. They are reaffirmed or adjusted, but we mostly maintain our personal principles.

We add to our lives with:

• Experiences:
  
  • What happens to you
  • Interactions with the world beyond you

In and of themselves, these experiences are simply there. We give them meaning, positive or negative, healthy or unhealthy, based on our personal values, that foundation through which we judge the world and ourselves. This then produces:

• Emotions:
  
  • Feelings at a given moment.
  • Reactions to experiences

Let's put it together:

• Experiences produce emotions.
  
  • These emotions may be based on our principles and values, or on a physical reaction to what is happening. If it makes us feel good, happy, fulfilled or whatever, it is a positive emotion. If we are hurt, sad, lost, etc. it can be a negative emotion.
• Experiences and emotions are stored together in our memory.
  
  • That's how memories work. They are not stored as a single event- A Memory in A Location. They are stored in some interconnected way in our brain. When a memory comes back it easily comes back with the emotions. This is Proust's famous experience with the madeline cake.
• The emotions connected with experiences can then interact with our principles.
  
  • Good emotions can produce a positive "value" response; negative feeling emotions can produce a "value" response that says that this does not fit my values.
• Together these guide how we do what we do in our lives.

To design the future effectively,

you must first let go of your past.

-Charles J. Givens

There's the rub. Back again to the letting go I talked about last week. Back to logic and emotion and principles and mindfulness.

After a previous post on developing experiences my friend Terry commented:

Experience counts more than theory, because experience works on the heart

But when that work on the heart is an ongoing emotional "shame" it will color what we do every time we are faced with a similar situation.

Finally, today, 50 years later, I am discovering new ways to rewrite that emotional experience of Memorial Day 1966. I have been able over the past few years specifically, to present alternative realities. I have also been willing to take risks such as doing a solo, attending jazz, big band, and trumpet camps where I couldn't hide and playing in a quintet. New experiences rewrite the "heart story" and put things into a better perspective. Even this Tuning Slide blog on trumpet playing is part of it.

I have been controlled by that previous day for 50 years. Maybe I will finally let it go.

In working on the previous post and this one I came across lyrics from singer-songwriter James Bay in his song Let It Go. The song is about breaking up with a girlfriend, but some of the words are perfect for what I have been talking about...

Trying to push this problem up the hill
When it's just too heavy to hold
Think now's the time to let it slide

So come on let it go
Just let it be
Why don't you be you
And I'll be me

Everything's that's broke
Leave it to the breeze
Let the ashes fall
Forget about me

Come on let it go
Just let it be
Why don't you be you
And I'll be me

The Tuning Slide: Adding to the Music

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Why can't jazz musicians just leave a melody alone?
-Peter Capaldi

The previous two posts have dealt with improvising, what could be considered the mainstay of jazz. From small combos to big bands the music is wide open for the possibility of composing on the fly. How that improvised solo fits into the whole form of the particular song varies with styles, size of the ensemble, abilities of different members of the group. In some groups, for example, the first trumpet may not have as many improvisation skills so they tend to play the written parts while the second trumpet takes the improvised solos. In songs from the Great American Songbook of standards, the well-known melody of the song is shared around the different sections with one or two sections devoted to the improvised solo.

In most instances, though, this is built on the originally composed song. The song may be just the main theme (the head) and a closing coda of the theme. In-between the soloists go off on their own understandings of the song’s feel. The rhythm section often “comps” under the solo. (Think Dave Brubeck’s amazingly steady piano in “Take Five” under Paul Desmond’s wondrous solo.) In the beginning, then, all of the music is someone’s composition. The original song or theme or melody. Add to that the chord changes, tempo, mood, rhythmic structure, and written accompaniment and you have the song which will most likely change every time the group plays it.

That is jazz. But it requires that original song. It requires composing something on which to build. It is why jazz musicians do not leave the melody alone. They hear more than just the melody- they hear a whole composition starting with the original melody. This is not something new. Bach was known as a superb improvisor. For some of Mozart’s piano compositions, the solos are at times just a bare bones skeleton of the piece. Know one knows what Mozart played when he performed those pieces. The full score never existed.

How does all this happen? How does any one of us move into composition- either written scores or improvised solos? I have been experimenting on and off with that in the past year. I have a bluegrass medley that I would like to have our brass quintet play. I have been working on an improvisation on the folk song made famous by the Beach Boys and Kingston Trio- Sloop John B. I have some other melodies that I have heard in my imagination and would someday like to turn into a written composition, whether for jazz or brass quintet. I figured this was a good place in this jazz series to talk about that and see how it has fit together with so much else of what music is all about. So here are the essentials as I have been discovering them:

• Listening
“What jazz are you listening to? How often are you listening?” These are two important questions to ask yourself on a regular basis. In order to begin to grasp what jazz music can be you have to listen. On recordings; on the Internet; in person. Finding live, improvised jazz can be difficult in some places, but it is worth the effort. Get in there, watch the musicians, their interactions, their reactions. Listen to the phrases and get into the groove. Don’t use it as background music. It’s alive.

• Learning the language
The reason to listen is simple. Jazz music, like all music has its own unique language. I’ve talked about this before- and I will again. The learning for many of us is that initial listening. You may not understand what it’s saying at first, but as you surround yourself with the music the phrases and low of the music will begin to make sense.

• Listening
So you listen some more.

• Singing your music
For me singing along was a great start to working on composition. Sing the melody, sing a counter melody, sing a walking bass line, sing the chord changes of a 12-bar blues, sing nonsense syllables (scat singing), let the rhythm sing from within you.

• Experimenting
Then pick up your horn and play over some songs you like. Get an app like iReal Pro. Find web sites that have accompaniment tracks available. Work with the Jamie Aebersold books and CDs. Some of these will work better for you than others. For some reason I am still struggling with the Aebersold resources but iReal Pro helps me. One of my goals in the next few months is to double down on the Aebersold and see if I can move past that barrier. Your experimenting will help you get the feel of the language and you will be surprised (I have) when something happens that you never thought you would be able to do. Riff off the melody; play chord progressions; make the mistakes in your practice room and figure out how not to make the same mistakes more than once.

• Listening
Did I make it clear about the listening? By this time it may even be an idea on some of these to record and listen to yourself and your solos. But don’t stop listening to others. The language skills grow from the hearing, the imitating, the experimenting.

• Learn solos by ear- transcribe them
This is the most difficult for me. This is just like ear-training in any language learning. It is just as essential in learning jazz. Even if we never plan on doing much improvisation, to learn the solos, to improve our ear for the language, will help make us better musicians overall and will help the written scores become more identifiable and musical.

• Repeat
Go back to the top and start over.

As we do these things we are composing. We are making our own music. I know that none of this is all that earth-shattering- or new. I used to think and hope that if I bought the right book, read the right information, watched the right YouTube video that this would all fall into place. It won’t. Aebersold books could line my shelves, but if I don’t take the steps into the new and different, I won’t improve.

What this does is get me in touch with me- my music, my songs, my soul. As I express that music I am composing a whole new story to add to the greater story around me. That is important. This is what we do every day in our daily lives- we compose something new out of what has been around us. That something new can only come from us. I can’t leave life alone in the same old rut. Jazz teaches me how to take the risks to tell my story in a new language.

Last year musician John Raymond had this to say after he had spent some time focusing on composing. It is what it’s all about:

At the end of the day, so much of composing (to me at least)
is about trusting who you are, what you love,
and about trusting the music that YOU hear.
Just like improvising, it's an incredibly personal process and your goal is
ultimately to be as honest as you can be.
(John Raymond, email, September 2016)

The Tuning Slide: More About Composing

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Life is a lot like jazz.
It’s best when you improvise.
-George Gershwin

I’m going to start today with some thoughts from the book, Improvisation for the Spirit: Live a More Creative, Spontaneous, and Courageous Life Using the Tools of Improv Comedy by Katie Goodman. (Sourcebooks, Inc. 2008.) It is NOT about jazz, but rather a book on living a spontaneous life based on improv comedy. But, hey, improvisation is improvisation. So here are her suggestions for skills needed in living a spontaneous life.

1. Be Present and Aware
2. Be Open and Flexible
3. Take Risks
4. Trust
5. Surrender and Non-Attachment
6. Gag Your Inner Critic
7. Get Creative
8. Effortlessness
9. Desire and Discovering What You Want
10. Authenticity
11. Allowing Imperfection and Practice, Practice, Practice

As I look at these I see a number of the themes that I have covered in the past here on the Tuning Slide.

• The “be present and aware” touches easily on the mindfulness we have talked about.
•  “Gag your inner critic” is certainly a variation of the discussions of Self 1 and Self 2 in the Inner Game of Music posts.
• “Desire and discovering what you want” and “authenticity” tie in with finding your story and song.

But as I pointed out last week with my improvisation stories, it is all easier said- or thought- and done. It takes work and determination to do it. It takes hours of practice. (That’s another whole series to think about for the next year!) One cannot want instant gratification - or instant expertise in improvisation or in life as a whole. So as I look at those 11 suggestions I want to simplify it. I want to make it sound easier than it is, live in my fantasy world that it is easy, or just throw my hands up in surrender. Which is NOT what surrender and non-attachment above mean. So maybe there is more to be learned in that skill than I am giving it credit for.

Surrender and non-attachment, as Goodman defines it on page 92 is about

…learning to let go of your attachments to expectations, goals, and perfectionism. … to cultivate a sense of humor, and to lighten up. [We] surrender the controls and allow life to unfold in a more joyful, free-flowing, and perhaps, unexpected way.

This does not mean giving up and going home. I have heard several times in the past few weeks that the #1 rule for improv comedy is the “Yes, and…” rule. That means you affirm what has come before you, the line or theme that has preceded the hand-off to you. Never negate it- that brings everything to a stop. Instead, accept it as an important bit of information or an unfinished sentence. What do you have to add to it? How can you give added value to the “musical conversation”? In order to do that use those skills of mindfulness, creativity, and giving Self Two the direction to go ahead and play.

Now, in order to do that you have to believe you have something to say. At first, all it may be in your improvisation is to hit the note of the chord with a certain rhythm. Remember, jazz is about rhythm. Then you might want to think about the structure of the song, blues, classic standard, funk. Keep those same chord notes and rhythm but give them a little something extra here and there. Don’t be shy. That doesn’t mean play fortissimo when the song is a nice quiet ballad. Remember, you are adding to the conversation, not stopping it or hijacking it. There are then legato and staccato passages, slurs and marcato. How do they fit together?

Now, don’t expect to go onstage in a public performance and know how to do this. Improv comedy troupes practice. Then they practice some more. Improv does not mean off-the-cuff with no thought or training. It means learning the words and sounds of jazz and making conversation with other musicians. I wish I was able to do this as easily as I write about it. But I am a slow-learner. I still have an inner critic that freezes when he hears that “sour” note. I still have the perfectionist that says he has to do it right or don’t do it at all. I still have the ADD dude who gets distracted by a a lot more than squirrels and then loses mindfulness, flow, rhythm and creativity.

So I go back to the practice room. I pull out the scales or find a song on iReal Pro and try to get the feel for it. I listen to Miles Davis’ solo on “So What” and feel the movement of an easy-flowing improvisation. I take a walk and refocus my mindfulness skills. I do some breathing meditation that gets me back in touch with me. Then I work on it some more. It is a much slower process than I want it to be. I can tend to get too busy. I have too many things to write or too many concerts or gigs to prepare for. So the hard stuff, like learning to talk jazz with my trumpet is set aside.

In other words I am writing these posts as much for me as for you. I am working on my Inner Game. I am reminding myself that I have a story and a song. It is mine and I have been writing it for many years. Back at that very first jazz camp I went to in the 90s one thing did become clear to me. I improvise all the time in my daily life. Things happen that I have to react to. As a preacher for years I would regularly “ad lib” in the middle of a sermon. All that was was just improvising. I pulled in all my knowledge and experiences, all the sermons I had written and preached, all the people I had talked to, all the books I had read. Then came the inspiration and I shared it when it happened. I can still do that. It is almost as easy as falling off a bike for me. I couldn’t do that when I started, of course. I wrote down every word of every sermon. I still work from a manuscript (the score of the music?) and take off when and where appropriate.

That’s all I need to learn to do with my trumpet. It is getting better. I am learning. I don’t believe I will ever be done.

Kind of like life!

You have to practice improvisation,
Let no one kid you about it.
-Art Tatum