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Solving The In-Breath Conundrum

30/5/2016

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Over the years, people must have told me hundreds of times “You’re not taking a proper breath” when I’m playing the trumpet.

For reasons I don’t understand, I’ve long had difficulty in this area. It’s been frustrating. I’ve breathed into breathing bags. I’ve blown back the pages of phone books. I’ve bought all kinds of plastic devices to blow into (and I’ve blown into them, too). Only a couple of weeks back, I was given a plastic tube with a 25 mm or so diameter to help me get the sensation of what an in-breath should feel like.

Somehow, though, I’ve never got it. I’ve ended up either:
  • Not taking much of an in-breath at all, or
  • “Trying really hard” to take a good in-breath, sucking in air fairly audibly, and feeling quite tense and discombobulated by the time I need to start making a note

And then, last week, in about five minutes, quite simply, my Alexander Technique teacher changed all that. These (slightly paraphrased) are the instructions he gave me:
  1. Stand quietly, and breathe in and out in a quite ordinary fashion through the nose (as if waiting for a bus, say, or reading a book).
  2. After establishing the above pattern, drop your mouth open on the in-breath. Continue to breath out through the nose. The result will be that air enters your lungs very quietly.
  3. In small increments, increase the volume of air moving on each breath while maintaining the ease established above. Air should still be entering your lungs very quietly. If it helps, think “I am being breathed”, rather than “I am breathing”.
  4. Maintaining the feel and rhythm established above, place the trumpet over the lips on the out breath, form an embouchure, and play an easy note, then breathe in again with the same ease you experienced in all the previous steps.
  5. Add a metronome beat (say, 60 beats per minute), and time the in-breath to start on on, say, beat four, then play a note starting on beat five. It’s important not to use a metronome until this step. Introducing the metronome beat any earlier is likely to stimulate you to breathe over-forcefully if this has been your past habit.

When I followed these steps, I was amazed to discover that I could very easily and quietly take in enough air to play, say, a long note through 8 bars of the Walter White long tone study CD — all without any of the fuss and sense of strain I have usually associated with “taking a big breath” to play the trumpet. The physical sensation of breathing in this way was very different from what I would normally associate with "taking a big breath". Indeed, I found it hard to believe I had much air inside me at all — but the proof was in the playing.

I’m not saying this will work for every trumpet player struggling with the “how do I breathe?” conundrum, but it has certainly worked for me. I’m truly amazed it has taken me so long to discover just how easy an in-breath can be when I’ve got a trumpet in my hand!
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Alexander Technique: A ‘Prelude to Activities’

18/1/2016

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The following is an edited excerpt from an address trumpet player and Alexander Technique teacher Pete Estabrook gave to Santa Rosa Junior College Applied Music Students in California in the Spring of 2014, followed by some questions from Trumpetings, and Pete Estabrook’s answers.

People like to ask “What is the Alexander Technique?” You can think of the Alexander Technique as "prevention through inhibition". This was a term used by Walter Carrington, who took over the primary training course for teachers of the Alexander Technique in London after F.M. Alexander's death in 1955.

So what is inhibition? It means not to "do" something. It means to "stop".

So, "prevention"..."Prevention" of what? Prevention of what we DON'T want. We’re not just talking about “I have a little back pain, so we’re stopping the source of my little back pain”. We’re talking about STOPPING and INHIBITING as a way of thinking and being — not only to apply to our physical movements, but to everything that we "do".

It’s something like this. We have a "wish" (an intention, a goal, etc.). Normally, we have that "wish", and then we carry out the action we think will lead to attaining that "wish" immediately, without stopping or thinking. I have the "wish" to walk over here, and I do it without thinking.

If you go directly into action, habit takes over without your realizing it. What is a habit? A habit is a subconsciously controlled activity. It’s something that we are not aware of.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with habits. They allow us to do things like play instruments.

But sometimes, habits get into our nervous system that are not helpful. When we learn an activity, we may absorb something along with the learning that is not helpful in carrying out that activity. In my own case, I learned to lean back when I raised up the trumpet to play. That’s not helpful.

What Alexander figured out was that if I inhibit, if I stop, before I engage my habit, and, I give myself some "directions" (orders, instructions, etc.), I give myself the opportunity to NOT get side-tracked.

Once the habit has engaged, we're too far along the path to put a stop to it. We’re, most likely, going where it sends us (not necessarily where we intended). NOT engaging (ie, not rehearsing or practising) a habit is the only way we’re going to get around our difficulty and begin to make headway in the direction we intended. NOT engaging a habit by inhibiting takes awareness on our part. And it’s really difficult to be aware of what is, by definition, a subconsciously controlled activity. That’s why we need a teacher. A teacher helps us to see what we can't see on our own.

So, the Alexander Technique is essentially, first and foremost, inhibiting. It’s preventing me from going where I don’t want to go, and allowing me the possibility of going where I do want to go.

Direction (or what is called "directing", orders, instructions, etc.) follow the inhibitory process. Without inhibition, direction isn't effective, because we haven't put a stop to what is already in motion, and we just carry out what we normally would in the way we normally would carry it out (ultimately, unsuccessfully). This is the frustrating part of making change that nearly everyone encounters.

To abandon, to let go of what you wanted (by thinking, and following that inhibition with directions to one's self) is the only way we can actually make headway towards our "goals", and ultimately, succeed to any degree, in my experience.

If I take my hands off the keyboard because I’m getting some pain, and know I’ve got to stop, but I don't truly "abandon" my intention to play, my nervous system's anxiety engine is still running. As long as my anxiety engine is running, I haven’t made any progress. I only hit the "pause" button for a moment.

What I’m proposing is abandoning, giving it up. That means putting the trumpet down. I’m really not going to play. I'm giving it up. How long? How many times? These are questions to be explored over and over again, endlessly, by each of us with the direct guidance of a qualified teacher, along with verbal and physical reminders.

That gives me the opportunity, then, to give myself a new set of "instructions".

What are those "instructions" (directions, orders, etc.)? I can’t tell you what they are because they’re unique for each person. The common set of instructions begins something like: "Allow your neck to be free.....".

The neck isn't a bad place to start when learning about inhibition. It isn't the be-all and end-all of the Technique, in my opinion, nor does it encompass the usefulness of the Technique in its broadest sense, which is what I'm interested in communicating.

Don't get me wrong, the neck is a crucial area that affects many, if not all, other areas of the body, and the balance of the head is key to our overall postural reflex operating well. But, your relationship with your teacher will help you develop a set of instructions for yourself that make sense and work well for you. These may or may not include some version of the commonly used set of directions.

If that's heresy in the Alexander world, so be it. I'm not trying to offend anyone or upturn what anyone is clinging to as far as their idea of the Technique. But, trying to adopt an abstract, generic set is not that likely to be all that helpful to a student. This is a psycho/physical experience, much like playing trumpet. There is something quite tangible that can't be explained or learned from a book or reading on the internet. This is the danger in our day and age, and, in my opinion, at least in part, responsible for the decline in the quality of teaching of the Technique, at least in the US.

What are these "instructions" about? About "doing" the activity? No. The Technique is not about "doing" something. It is about NOT "doing" something in our normal, habitual way. These "instructions" are about me. They are "reminders" to myself. When I teach the Technique (or the trumpet), the "instructions" are as much for me as they are for the student. The job of teacher and student is the same: to take care of ourselves, to pay attention, to inhibit, to NOT "do". "Instructions" allow me to come back to myself, where I am right now. I think about me, and what I am “doing” or NOT "doing", so I can make some decisions about myself. I have the opportunity to be "easy" on myself if I choose to do so. I want to "leave myself alone", as Walter Carrington would have said, so that the "right thing" has the opportunity to "do itself" (as FM Alexander himself said).

Trumpetings: There seem to be some similarities between the approach you are describing here, and the approach Kenny Werner proposes in his book Effortless Mastery. There Werner writes “In all forms of practice, one should remove one’s hands from the instrument often. I can’t stress this strongly enough. That is the only way to go back to the space, or to find out if you’ve left the space. You need to step back and regain a perspective… Paradoxically, the more you feel you can walk away at any time, the more powerful your playing becomes” (page 147). Is Werner’s approach Alexander Technique by another name?

I read Kenny's book some years ago. I even had an audio cassette of a workshop that Bobby Shew copied for me, when I studied with him as a graduate student at Cal-Arts around 1990. It had Kenny speaking at a workshop on this subject matter before the book was published, when he was still formulating his ideas.

There are many resources past and present that point to this idea. I think the reason this comes up again and again is that it is true and this actually does work. But, strictly speaking, although the ideas are similar, Kenny is not teaching the Alexander Technique. To do that, he would need to back up what he was saying with "hands on" work and circle around, verbally and physically, to what Alexander taught (ie, inhibition and direction).

Trumpetings: While I believe I understand the general principle you are describing, I’d like to understand better how you would expect to see this working in practice. Say I am accustomed to doing a couple of hours trumpet practice each day. How many times each day would you expect me to ‘abandon’ playing the trumpet and give myself new instructions? Would this be every time I pick up the trumpet — or just, say, for fifteen minutes, or as long as I can stand it?

From my viewpoint, this thinking is already off track. The student is trying to categorize and compartmentalize the Technique from what they know.

Of course, what else are we going to do but work from where we are?  But, when a student asks this question, it does give me some information about how they are thinking and where their nervous system is at the moment (which is to say, anxious to some degree).

My job as a teacher is, somehow, to lower that anxiety level during a lesson. I can best do that by not being nervous myself in trying to get my point across. I would engage the student in a dialog about this using some analogy, experiences from my own life as a player and teacher, and my hands as we work through that dialog.

The specifics of the dialog varies with each student and each lesson. Sometimes, it's good to follow the advice of Walter Carrington (I'm paraphrasing here): when you get the impulse to "do" something, lie down, and see where that takes you.

Do we never proceed? Do we inhibit, and that's all? Is that the end of it? That's the fear and, most likely the source of anxiety. What do I do next? When? How long will it take?

Alexander was fond of saying (again I'm paraphrasing): keep coming for lessons until you don't feel the impulse to ask such questions anymore.

There is no short, easy answer. This gets worked out over time under the guidance of a teacher, but the discovery process is uniquely our own. No one can make this journey for us. No one can give stuff up on our behalf. Please believe me, if I could do this for someone, I would.

Trumpetings: If my Alexander Teacher isn’t a trumpet player, how is he or she going to know what ‘instructions’ will best help me to ‘be easy on myself’ and ‘leave myself alone’ as I approach playing the trumpet?

Alexander's Technique is not for trumpet players. So, the "instructions" are not trumpet-specific. They are for human beings. Do you breathe, sit, use your arms, etc. when you play music? If so, the technique is likely to be useful to you. If you are a trumpet player, you don't need an Alexander Technique Teacher who is also a trumpet player or teacher for the lesson to be useful to your general functioning, where the trouble actually lies.
 
Trumpetings: As an Alexander Teacher who is also a trumpet player, have you noticed any particular ‘bad habits’ that trumpet players often succumb to, and which lessons in Alexander Technique can help these players to reduce or eradicate? Or is this an unfair question?

Anything I've noticed is student-specific and specific to a lesson and a given moment. That all changes with a different student, a different lesson, and a different moment.

We are all unique. Habits have lots of flavors. Inhibition has lots of flavors. I did a brief video interview with Dave Monette during the time I was training to be an Alexander Technique teacher. He asked a similar question. Although, I felt, in retrospect, that I didn't really have a chance to say what I wanted in full, you can find the interview online. Please also look for the comments I posted after the interview, where I made some additions to our exchange.

Dave attempted to lead me to a similar "commonality" discussion. The editing of the video suggests that I agree and that it's that simple. Although many trumpet players, and instrumentalists in general, tend to lean back when holding an instrument, others, like guitarists or pianists, tend to lean forward. The MOST IMPORTANT THING TO REMEMBER is that both of these are SYMPTOPMS of a mal-coordination throughout the entire system that can't be addressed directly with much success.

The Technique is a way of stepping outside that symptomatic approach and addressing the situation indirectly, and as far as I'm concerned, quite successfully, if we give it (and the teacher) the opportunity to do so.

Again, if we are thinking in terms of "getting rid of" or "eradicating" stuff (habits), from my point of view, our thinking is off track. Our nervous system doesn't have a "delete" button. Once stuff goes in, it's in there to stay. What we need to learn is how to navigate what we've (often unknowingly) put there. That's what the Technique is: a navigation tool to help us find our way out of the forest of our own creation.

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Trumpet playing and the Alexander Technique

20/10/2015

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I still remember the moment my trumpet teacher said to me, “And of course, we want to remove all unnececessary tension from our bodies.”

“Of course”? At the time, I was raising my trumpet to my lips. Had I taken a breath yet? Was I about to take a breath? Was I about to attempt playing without taking a breath at all? I don’t remember exactly. What I do remember, though, is that I was feeling tight all over, and the idea that I could ever play the trumpet without a lot of “unnecessary tension” struck me as a ridiculous dream.

So why was my teacher saying “of course”?

I could see that he himself made playing the trumpet look and sound like the easiest thing in the world, but did he know how to help me achieve the same? Sadly, he did not.

I should explain that I was, at the time, a pretty passionate subscriber to the weight-lifting theory of trumpet playing. You probably know how that one goes: if you just lift weights (or strain at playing the trumpet) for long enough, eventually your muscles will bulk up, and what seems like an effort now will come to seem easy.

It’s common sense, right? Well yes, I thought so - but my trumpet teacher seemed to be proposing another approach, where the act of playing the trumpet got to be easy without my first going through the straining part. Could he serious, though? Could such a thing really be possible? Possible for me?

To cut a long story short, I eventually started having lessons in Alexander Technique, hoping these might help me address this issue. Seven years later, I’m still having regular lessons in the Technique (I’m a slow learner) and am now convinced that an ‘easier’ approach to playing the trumpet is both possible and viable, by-passing the need for 90% of the strain I previously put myself through when playing the instrument.

Paradoxically, much of the ‘work’ in Alexander Technique turns out to involve learning not to do. Not doing can be quite a challenge for an inveterate try-hard like myself. To put this another way, Alexander Technique is largely an education in inhibition. Over time, the student learns (by a combination of verbal instruction and hands-on guidance) to deactivate unhelpful but deeply entrenched patterns of behaviour which, precisely because they are so entrenched, feel utterly ‘right’ and ‘normal’ (which is why it is no tempting to go on repeating them). The experience of functioning without these habitual patterns is likely to feel very odd at first.

How do I hold my trumpet in my non-valve-playing hand? How much ‘grip’ do I really need to hold the instrument? What do I do with my head and neck as I raise the trumpet to my lips to play? How is my weight distributed across my feet (assuming I’m standing)? What is the state of tension or relaxation in my ankles? Are my knees flexed or locked? What awareness do I have of my hips? What does it mean to have ‘free hips’? What do I think am I doing with myself when I take a ‘deep breath’? Am I utterly discombobulating myself whenever I take this ‘deep breath’? What should a ‘deep breath’ feel like? Does it even matter what it feels like? What happens to the muscles at the back of my neck when I take this ‘deep breath’?

Over time, I have slowly made progress in identifying, and then learning to inhibit, unhelpful patterns of holding and tensing in areas such as these, with the result that I now typically feel a lot more comfortable when playing the trumpet than I did seven years ago. I believe that, on the whole, this has benefited my trumpet sound, considerably.

I wouldn’t want to suggest, however, that Alexander Technique has been a magic bullet for me. Unfortunately, I am still likely to get rattled in high pressure situations, and I do still fall back on bad habits at times. Nevertheless, I am convinced that, slow as the learning process may be, Alexander Technique does offer a highly viable path by which a tension-riddled trumpet player may eventually learn to play with a much greater sense of freedom and ease.
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"Listen", they say: But to whom?

30/4/2015

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A common piece of advice for aspiring jazz musicians is to “listen, listen, listen”. But to whom is one supposed to listen, that is an important question.

In my previous post, I mentioned that I have recently set about attempting to make myself a more resilient trumpet player with help from Dr Noa Kageyama’s online course The Bulletproof Musician.

It’s been a few weeks since I last looked at Dr Kageyama’s course materials, and I have not yet completed the course. I have, however, made some significant changes in how I practise and how I prepare for performance under Dr Kageyama’s influence — and one of these has been in the area of listening.

And to whom have I been listening? Well, in fact, to myself.

Noa Kagayema encourages wanna-be-bulletproof musicians to record themselves often, and to listen back carefully to what they’re doing .

To support this practice, it’s important to have some technology available that makes this process simple and hassle-free. For me, StudioMini XL, an app for Apple devices, has met this bill perfectly.
Picture
There are probably many other apps out there highly suitable for this purpose. A neat feature of this particular app I like is that not only does it come with a built in pitch reference and metronome, it also comes with various rhythm loops. These aren’t very sophisticated, but they do provide a more interesting pulse than a bare metronome when it comes time to practise some jazz stuff.

Here’s an example of the so-called “jazz” rhythm at a 170 tempo:
As a trumpet player, I’m used to being told that I should rest as much as I play, but until I started recording myself and listening back as a matter of course, I found this advice difficult to follow. Now, however, I record most of my practice, and listen back frequently, resting physically while I listen, but engaging mentally as I ask myself “Of all the myriad problems I can hear in my playing, what is the most important one for me to be working on right now?”

I have made one very important discovery through this process: the difference between what I (think I) hear while I’m playing the trumpet, and what I hear on listening back, can be quite dramatic. When I’m actually playing, I typically believe I’m playing in time with the beat. However, when I listen back, I find I am very often late on the beat. When I’m playing, I think that my tonguing sounds fine. When I listen back, however, I hear that I’m tonguing way too hard, and need to find some way of backing off. When I’m playing, I think my intonation is terrific, but when I listen back, I find that I often “scoop” my notes. The list goes on. When I’m playing, I never notice how my notes begin, but when I listen back, oh what a mess! And so on.

I imagine this idea of listening back repeatedly might strike you as pretty obsessive, and in a way I suppose it is. However, Dr Kageyama has some good tips on how to stay positive while doing all this listening. For instance, he suggests you note down in writing after each practice session what went well and what improved, as well as to note one instance where you showed great effort and persistence. I’ve been doing this myself, and I do find this is an effective antidote to pessimism.

Rather to my surprise, however, I have found that the overall effect of all this listening has not been to make me punishingly self-critical, but rather the reverse. It’s certainly true that I hear lots and lots of faults in my playing through this process. However, at the same time, because I am so involved in the process of recording and listening and thinking about what I might change, I feel much more empowered, and in charge of my own progress.

When those jazz know-it-alls tell we aspiring jazz musicians to “listen, listen, listen”, I’m sure they don’t typically mean “listen to yourself”. However, that mightn’t always be the worst advice in the world!

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That's not Water in my trumpet – it's terror

3/3/2015

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They say the body never lies, but I wish mine could occasionally.

Whenever I get on stage for a ‘big’ playing occasion, I’m a bundle of nerves – or perhaps, more accurately, awash with adrenaline. The result sounds something like the following (I’m the trumpet player, and these are not the Tradjazzers):
My wife, who has witnessed similar sad events several times, tells me it sounds like I have ‘water in my trumpet’.

‘That’s not water,’ I tell her. ‘It’s terror.’

Now I must admit I don’t sound a hell of a lot better than this even when the adrenaline hasn’t got the better of me, but I do find this kind of experience  incredibly annoying. I feel like I’m making a total goose of myself, and letting down my fellow band members into the bargain.

The performance above took place at the Grampians Jazz Festival in February. After I got home from the Grampians, I decided it was time I finally ‘did something’ about this problem.

Looking around the web, I came across an article by Dr Noa Kageyama. As it happens, I've been a subscriber to Dr Kageyama's bulletproofmusician newsletter for around 18 months, and have always found his articles most interesting. However, until my latest encounter with stage fright I had not seriously thought of taking the plunge and signing up for his online course, which promises to address exactly the problem I had been experiencing based on insights, particularly, from sports psychology.

Well, there’s nothing like a terrifying experience to motivate new learning – and new spending, too. It took me only a few minutes, and a $AUD 320 Visa payment, to enroll in Dr Kageyama’s course.

I’m already very glad that I did. Dr Kageyama's course 'bulletproofmusician' consists of seven modules, named Energy, Preparation, Confidence, Courage, Concentration, Focus and Resilience.

'Yeah, yeah', I hear you saying, 'I know all that stuff.' If that isn't your inner voice speaking, it most certainly would have been mine until recently. However, I think I'm fast becoming a convert. So far, I’m only part way through the second course module (Preparation) but already my understanding of the mental side of playing music has expanded remarkably.

Perhaps it’s because I’m ‘just’ a trumpet player — I know trumpet players do have a reputation for being somewhat toward the meat-head end of the musical intelligence and sensitivity spectrum --  or perhaps it’s because I’ve had little formal musical training, but for whatever reason, I have always tended to view trumpet playing as a physical activity to be mastered by building muscle, which in turn I thought was to be achieved mainly through repetitive exercises.

From the get go, however, Dr Kageyama’s course has challenged my most fundamental assumptions about how to approach music making, enlarging my horizons in the most unexpected ways.

Obviously it would be unfair to Dr Kageyama if I was simply to repeat here verbatim the material he presents in his course. However, I think I can say that in his first module (Energy), Dr Kageyama gives a very clear description of the phenomenon of stage fright, covering its physical, emotional and cognitive aspects. He then goes on to describe, slowly and very carefully, a pre-performance routine he calls ‘centering’ which is designed to help a musical performer settle and redirect some of the ‘charge’ associated with stage fright in a positive way.

All this material is presented in a most engaging and persuasive way. Dr Kageyama himself comes across as a charmingly self-deprecating, calm and grounded mentor who is NOT promising the world, but who IS pointing the way, I believe, to a credible way of improving one’s own musical performance under stress. The course materials (PDFs, videos and audio files) are clear, beautifully designed and very well paced.

On the strength of what (relatively little) I’ve said about the course itself so far, I’d hardly expect any reader of this blog to rush out and sign up to Dr Kageyama’s course here and now. However, if you’re even the least bit intrigued, I would strongly suggest you sign up at www.bulletproofmusician.com to receive Dr Kageyama's free newsletter, and sample for yourself a little of his style and of his insights.

In future postings here, I hope to expand more on my adventures as a student of the bulletproofmusician course. And and who knows, perhaps one day I’ll have a ‘success’ video to post too.
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Is there a Sax in there?

8/2/2015

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Attend any jazz workshop these days, including workshops focussed on ‘trad’ or ‘traditional’ jazz, and you’re likely to find yourself in the company of many tenor and alto sax players.

The saxophone is clearly a popular jazz instrument. However, its role in 'trad' style jazz is not often talked about. I suspect this is because it’s often difficult to hear what the sax is playing when it’s accompanied by the other traditional horns associated with this kind of music, the trumpet, trombone and clarinet, and thus difficult to draw any conclusions about what kind of musical 'line' the sax could or should be playing in this style of music.

For instance, what is the sax actually playing in this recording?

If you can hear a sax in there, good luck to you! What you’re actually hearing here is a ‘conventional’ three horn line-up of trumpet, trombone and clarinet in the 'front row' (sorry, there's no sax). It’s remarkably easy to hear the distinctive voices of the three horns that are present, as each has its own easily distinguishable timbre and spread in the audio spectrum. These horns seem to occupy different 'places' in the overall sound.

OK, so enough with the trickery. Here’s the opening of a track where there really is a saxophone in the mix – as it happens, played by one of the all-time greats of the instrument.

If you’re like me, it may take you a few listens before you begin to hear the sax (played by Coleman Hawkins). I find it difficult at times to distinguish the sax from the clarinet, which is not playing particularly high in its register. I suspect if I was an tenor sax novice trying to figure out what lines to be playing in a group improvisation, I might not get a lot of help from listening to an example like this.

OK, here’s another challenging example for you. This time the challenge is heightened by the vintage of the recording (1929). Once again, we’ve got an all-time saxophone great combining with a trumpet, trombone and clarinet. Can you hear the sax?

I have found that on repeated listenings I can start to hear how the sax (Bud Freeman) often ‘answers’ the ‘call’ of Red Nichols’ trumpet as the melody is stated. I can also hear that the sax is doubling the trumpet’s part in some phrases of the melody, though whether it’s playing the same note an octave away, or just a harmonically-related note, I’m afraid I’m not a good enough musician to judge.

A later (1942) recording of the same tune by a different group also features a four horn line up. Here you can probably hear that the sax (and possibly the clarinet too) are playing a similar line to the trumpet in parts of the melody, which has the effect of ‘thickening’ the melody. In this rendition, though, there is none of the ‘call’ and ‘response’ involving saxophone we could hear in Example 3.

Finally, here’s a contemporary trad jazz group that manages to include a tenor sax with the other three ‘conventional’ horns. The tune this time is a ten bar blues. I find picking out the sax in the first ten bars rather difficult, but second time through the form I can hear the sax more clearly. How about you?

If you’ve made it this far, you deserve a reward! Here are all five tracks complete with sax solos (where there is one).

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The late-starter musician

28/1/2015

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Are late-starter musicians more prone to self-doubt?

As a late-starter myself, I’d say ‘probably’.

It was 1992 when I first took up a student Yamaha B flat trumpet in my hot clammy hands in Allan’s, Burke Street, and from the outset I had doubts whether I would ever make an acceptable sound by blowing through its twisted tubes. However, I’d just heard some kids from our local High School playing through some tunes in a small jazz ensemble that included a trumpet, and I was blown away with what I'd heard. If these teenagers could learn to play like this, surely I, who was 25 years their senior, could do almost as well. After all, I thought, I’ve got Willpower.

Yes, welcome to the world of the late-starter musician. With our bravado and our Willpower, surrounded by all the current chatter about brain plasticity, I wonder sometimes if I and my kind are not doomed to wander forever in that disappointing cul-de-sac, the Rue de Frustration.

Am I the only late-starter musician who gets all tensed up at the least provocation? Who can never hit those high notes when he really needs them? Who is constantly puzzled by the truly awful sound coming out the end of his horn, except when playing where absolutely no-one can hear him? Possibly – but it’s unlikely, I suspect.

Twenty-something years after I picked that first Yamaha trumpet, I find I’m still – let’s face it – in a constant struggle with my instrument. I rarely achieve an ease of playing that I feel convinced much better players than myself achieve often. But why? Is the reason that I’m a late-starter, as such – or is it, rather, the WAY I’ve approached being a late-starter, throwing myself into trumpet as if it’s an exercise in lifting weights (‘come on muscles, get stronger!’), the ultimate challenge to my Willpower?

My current hope (and late-starters can certainly live in hope) is that I can find a way to approach the trumpet that side-steps my own ‘late starter’ mentality. If I can achieve that, then I might finally (paradoxically) begin to approach the trumpet just as a much younger learner might do, feeling under no particular pressure to ‘catch up’ with anything.

Watch this space...

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    Trumpetings

    Our Trumpetings blogger Peter has played trumpet with Tradjazzers since 2006.

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