Bassoon With a View

I have been thinking about vibrato a lot.  About 2 years ago I had a vibrato crisis wherein I decided I hated my vibrato and pretty much cut it out of my playing as much as possible.  Fortunately, because most of my work is within quintet playing, I can actually get away with a lot of straight tone or at least very little vibrato. As my private studio has grown to the largest ever, I find myself needing to teach vibrato and not having much success.  In fact, I think I have only confused my students as I have endeavored to approach it utilizing different practice techniques in hopes of striking on one that will work for each of them.   One of my principal teachers developed my vibrato using measured vibrato exercises: ♩ = 60 Pulsing ♫ ’s Pulsing Triplets Pulsing 16th notes Increasing the tempo to develop many different speeds and with consideration for the the different effort required for each note.   In addition to developing my vibrato on bassoon with these exe

 "What I have learned is that the best thing I can do as a  teacher is ALWAYS value myself, my knowledge, my experience  and invite students to find a way to share in that."   That is a lovely statement and I'm really impressed that I wrote it in my blog post last year .  In one sense, my career is more stable than ever before.  In another sense, it seems to always be changing and progressing in new and exciting ways.   One constant remains: assessing value .  For myself and for others.  The more demands are placed on my time by ensembles, students, and colleagues, the more essential it is for me to communicate the value of what I do and the time I have. I'm sure we have all seen this humorous pie chart on Facebook in recent months.  Though exaggerated, there is an excellent point found here that illustrates the challenge many musicians face when it comes to communicating their value: crippling self-doubt! Do I deserve to ask $$$ for private lessons?

(Found this post saved in drafts and figured I better get it published!) Masterful & Gracious... ...are probably the two words I could best compliment a musician with.  This weekend I had the opportunity to witness and enjoy musicians who embodied both of those characteristics.  Our symphony concert this weekend welcomed and featured the Brubeck Brothers Quartet.  This will probably be my favorite concert for this symphony season because the Quartet was both masterful and gracious.  Chris and Dan Brubeck, Dave Brubeck's sons, were everything you might not expect from "big name" musicians.  Upon first seeing them with their colleagues, Mike DeMicco and Chuck Lamb, one might wrongfully assume that these accomplished musicians would be bored by a performance with a regional orchestra in central Montana.  However, these world class performers were anything but.  They were engaged, patient, and very gracious as they worked carefully to share with our orchestra an

Not to sound like an Oprah soundbite, but I do really love the saying, "New Season, New You!" There is something very rejuvenating about taking advantage of the seasonal opportunities to approach your work, your life, with a new outlook and a fresh perspective.  After a crazy and exciting summer fundraising for the Chinook Winds to film for PBS and present at the International Horn Symposium, it feels like fall and the new school year are just as exciting as ever. This fall I added the title (and duties) of University Professor to my schedule.  As the new adjunct Professor of Bassoon for the University of Montana School of Music, I travel over the mountains every Wednesday to teach my students and rehearse with my faculty colleagues.  This development was completely unexpected and wildly exciting for me.  Though I have worked very hard to define my career as a performer, I know, as well as anyone, that being an educator as a musician is integral.  The past few years I

For every reed player, there exists the potential for truly tragic moments during their professional careers.  I'm not talking about botched solos or malfunctioning keys - of course those are always risks.  What I'm referring to is the potential to forget an essential, nay, THE ESSENTIAL , genesis piece of what they do: The Reed Box.   Every traveling musician has pulled over countless times within the first 5 miles from home to do the panicked re-check.  Seat strap?  Music? Concert Black?  etc etc etc   More often than not all is well and you continue on.  Every once in a while you discover you have left something behind and you return home, retrieve the item and, with a sigh of relief, congratulate yourself for remembering in time.   Then there are the truly tragic moments that happen ONCE and once only during a musician's career.  In my case, I drove over 200 miles from home for my monthly residency with the Billings Symphony.  Having taken this trip many