Greetings!
On my last conducting reflection I talked about some things that went well for me in my experiences. It's good to know that I have the basic tools and risk taking capacity to be an effective conductor. But I don't want to be an average conductor. I'd like to grow into one of those people who can communicate incredible amounts of information, whose conducting is at such a level that it elevates the abilities of the players in front of them. I expect that to take a while, of course, and a lot of practice. So, first on my list of things to improve on are as follows...
Don't Read the Score... Look Up!This was by far the worst of my mistakes. I spent a lot of time practicing with the score, eventually listening to recordings and trying to conduct from memory. But there is just something that is still a little intimidating about conducting a live group. A fear of missing cues, partially, or of losing my place in the score. I want to be a conductor that leads proactively through impulse of will and communication. I don't want to react to a missed entrance with a reassuring nod and smile. But even with Grainger's "Irish Tune", which should be easy enough to keep your place in, I still felt the need to look at the score more than I was looking up. I did a good job of making eye contact when I gave cues, don't get me wrong. But with all that time I spent looking at the score, I would be foolish if I were to complain that the players weren't paying attention. Right?
But a great thing happened when we played through "Shepherd's Hey". My worst fear came true - I got lost. We only had time to sight read, so there was no stopping. I flipped through a few pages while continuing to conduct a two pattern, but within a few seconds I decided there was no hope of finding where we were at, and I was wasting a precious opportunity to connect and make music.
So I looked up.
Not only did I start conducting from memory, but I experienced what Benjamin Zander calls going "Beyond the F*** It". In other words, I went all out.
I had practiced enough that I knew where we were, where we were going, and basically how we were going to get there, including some general style changes, a stop, an accelerando, and some other important details I wanted pulled out. When my wife watched the tape she noticed how much more I got into my conducting. Without me telling her what happened, her vocal reaction to the change was, "There you go, babe! Now you're getting into it!"
Not only did they hold together at close to performance tempo, but they actually did a pretty good job of style and dynamics. I totally missed a 3/2 bar, but they stuck with me.
It wasn't until the score was taken away that my true ability to communicate came out.
But this nemesis struck again when I worked with a public school band the next week. It was in the middle of finals week so I only had an hour and a half to study two scores, with recordings of neither one. I had a general idea of how each section sounded, but was not practiced enough to do it by memory, and as a result I spent a lot of time looking down. What a shame! We accomplished a lot through rehearsal, but I have to wonder how much more we might have accomplished through visual communication had I been looking up.
And then I recently came across something Peter Boonshaft wrote in his book, "Teaching Music with Passion: Conducting, Rehearsing, and Inspiring". He suggests that in the debate of conducting by memory or not, that we should have the best of both worlds. We should know the score well enough that we can conduct from memory, but admits that human memory is only so good, and we should glance at the score to recall previously learned information. The key word for me was, "glance".
In the future, I would like to be practiced enough that all I have to do is glance at the score to remember everything I need to know for that moment in time, and then spend the rest of the time looking around the room. It's tough. I'm sure it will get easier with practice. And certainly if I had 6-8 weeks of rehearsal as opposed to 15-36 minutes, that would also make all the difference.
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| I'm practically looking straight down! Would YOU be engaged? You know, because you've probably experienced conductors like this. |
So I looked up.
Not only did I start conducting from memory, but I experienced what Benjamin Zander calls going "Beyond the F*** It". In other words, I went all out.
I had practiced enough that I knew where we were, where we were going, and basically how we were going to get there, including some general style changes, a stop, an accelerando, and some other important details I wanted pulled out. When my wife watched the tape she noticed how much more I got into my conducting. Without me telling her what happened, her vocal reaction to the change was, "There you go, babe! Now you're getting into it!"
Not only did they hold together at close to performance tempo, but they actually did a pretty good job of style and dynamics. I totally missed a 3/2 bar, but they stuck with me.
It wasn't until the score was taken away that my true ability to communicate came out.
But this nemesis struck again when I worked with a public school band the next week. It was in the middle of finals week so I only had an hour and a half to study two scores, with recordings of neither one. I had a general idea of how each section sounded, but was not practiced enough to do it by memory, and as a result I spent a lot of time looking down. What a shame! We accomplished a lot through rehearsal, but I have to wonder how much more we might have accomplished through visual communication had I been looking up.
And then I recently came across something Peter Boonshaft wrote in his book, "Teaching Music with Passion: Conducting, Rehearsing, and Inspiring". He suggests that in the debate of conducting by memory or not, that we should have the best of both worlds. We should know the score well enough that we can conduct from memory, but admits that human memory is only so good, and we should glance at the score to recall previously learned information. The key word for me was, "glance".
In the future, I would like to be practiced enough that all I have to do is glance at the score to remember everything I need to know for that moment in time, and then spend the rest of the time looking around the room. It's tough. I'm sure it will get easier with practice. And certainly if I had 6-8 weeks of rehearsal as opposed to 15-36 minutes, that would also make all the difference.
Small Gestures
Not much needed here. One of my weaknesses has been a lack of small gestures, which hurts my dynamic contrast. My pattern during the softest sections of "Irish Tune" was probably a good mezzo-forte. They're playing wasn't too loud, though. The music is soft, but only because it is thinly scored. I don't believe 2-3 players need to play softly for the music to come across at the right dynamic. I think that's the approach I was taking. But generally speaking, I know small gestures are not something I do naturally.
The importance of having that range was reinstated when I recently attended Junction High School's Winter Concert. My friend Adrian Alonso, the director, did a fantastic job conducting them on Berlioz's "March to the Scaffold". At one point the full group was playing a soft volume, and Adrian's gestures were not much more than a twitching of the wrist for a measure, then an explosion of energy with the largest gestures he could make. The band's reaction was not disappointing, to say the least!
I've also been watching some great conductors to see how they convey soft dynamics in a variety of contexts. As eternal students of our craft, we are indeed fortunate to have YouTube, and videos of the world's greatest conductors within its database.
The importance of having that range was reinstated when I recently attended Junction High School's Winter Concert. My friend Adrian Alonso, the director, did a fantastic job conducting them on Berlioz's "March to the Scaffold". At one point the full group was playing a soft volume, and Adrian's gestures were not much more than a twitching of the wrist for a measure, then an explosion of energy with the largest gestures he could make. The band's reaction was not disappointing, to say the least!
I've also been watching some great conductors to see how they convey soft dynamics in a variety of contexts. As eternal students of our craft, we are indeed fortunate to have YouTube, and videos of the world's greatest conductors within its database.
Time Flies, and You're Never as Good as You Wanted to Be
Pacing is something I'm getting better at, but it's still a weakness. I went into the Wind Ensemble rehearsal with a plan of how to use that 15 minutes. When I got on the podium I stuck to the plan. Roughly seven minutes on both "Irish Tune" and "Shepherd's Hey". By the time I got through the plan of action for "Irish Tune" I got a verbal cue from my teacher, "Three minutes." Wow! A plan for seven minutes turned into 12 minutes.
When I rehearsed the public school band the following week, it was much better. We lost some time at the start of class, ended up with 36 minutes to work with, and we used it pretty well. We fell short of getting through the entire second song by just several measures. Had we not lost that time at the start of class, we would've easily been able to run the work with its improvements and perhaps run through one of their other tunes, in addition to the time we spent working on legato playing during the warm up. Pretty productive.
Still, I wish I could have been better in both cases, and not just in terms of pacing, but everything. Even when I got to work with students at a school I observed at towards the end of the semester, I felt this way. I improved in a very short amount of time, and felt like I was certainly holding my own (except with the college group), but it seems it's never good enough.
But I think it also serves as good motivation for me. I know time is short, and I know time will fly by much faster than I think it will. Those are great motivators to be as prepared as I possibly can be. And while I'm improving all the time, I'll probably never be satisfied. Having a video tape of the Wind Ensemble rehearsal was painfully revealing (I really need a video camera for my first year). All of these experiences have continued to motivate me to search for answers and new techniques with a sense of urgency. No matter how much I discover, though, I never feel prepared, or good enough. I'm sure a lot of my music teacher friends out there can relate, though. I'm confident in myself, don't get me wrong, I just don't feel as prepared as I would like to be.
In the next couple of days I plan to post a funny video in the spirit of the holidays, but otherwise you won't hear from me again until after Christmas. Thank you for reading, happy holidays, and until next time, take care!
Musically yours,
Mr. Cooper
In the next couple of days I plan to post a funny video in the spirit of the holidays, but otherwise you won't hear from me again until after Christmas. Thank you for reading, happy holidays, and until next time, take care!
Musically yours,
Mr. Cooper
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