What annoys you most about large ensemble rehearsals?
My answer to this question was observed today, yet through a positive reminder.
Here's what I mean. A question arose in our section requiring a second opinion. Instead of bringing the issue to the attention of the conductor, the section member brought his concern to the attention of the principal player. The two musicians had a brief private discussion, the question was addressed, and no rehearsal time was wasted on behalf of an individual issue. This happens countless times throughout a typical rehearsal...
Obvious enough, right?
I wish.
How many times have you experienced, even in high end ensembles, an individual(s) interested in hearing themselves talk, selfishly asking in the middle of intense rehearsing, "excuse me maestro, in measure 347, beat three, should that 16th note be mezzo forte or piu forte?"
Ugha.
When playing in a large ensemble, a group not typically run in a democratic fashion, my personal goal is to avoid any need for verbal interaction with the conductor. It's not personal, but professional and serves the good of all.
Simple rules to follow for the uninitiated:
1. Be prepared.
2. Communicate with section members first, then let the principal player address any issues beyond the section should resolution be needed by the conductor.
3. Your artistic choices should be predetermined but flexible. (See my previous post regarding flexibility).
When in doubt, refer to this list of fines for clarification.
What are your biggest rehearsal pet peeves?
Visit my website at www.jameswdoyle.com
My perspective as a percussionist and educator.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
What interferes and is out of our control
The summer gigging/travel schedule is well underway as I begin a recording session with the USAF Band of Mid America, just across the river from my hometown of St. Louis, MO. I'm here to do a week of rehearsals followed by a week of recording the music of Clifton Williams. The project is with the concert band, arguably a musical dinosaur and the topic of recent discussion based on this bit of national news. Having spent several years playing with the USAF Band of the Golden West and my current affiliation with the ANG Band of the Gulf Coast, I'm attempting to formulate my opinions on the state of military music- a great artistic oxymoron. I'll tackle this topic as these two weeks unfold.
However, this entry has to do with circumstances that affect our performances in ways seemingly out of our control.
The following three examples entertained me today while doing what classical percussionists do best... counting rests.
1. The Editor/Engraver/Publisher Faux Pas
Sightreading this morning's rehearsal, my eyes quickly caught a measure of 12/8 with eleven beats. Jittery on iced coffee and a bit disoriented due to the heat, humidity, greenery, and weird smells of the Midwest, I double checked the error against other parts and quickly determined the original intent. No big deal. Then in a tacet moment of rehearsal, I reflected on the number of errors I've encountered over the years, considered the millions of printed scores generated throughout the centuries...
And soon lost my place counting rests. Nonetheless, what do you do with part errors?
Solution: Grab the score, other parts, and/or recordings and check the parts. Regardless of what you may find, there's no better tool than your ear. Always assume the part is wrong. Chances are, particularly if it's a standard piece of repertoire, someone has posted errata and the great oracle, Google, can shed some light on your issue.
2. Page Turners are Overworked and Underpaid
As an undergraduate, I wore an advertisement visible only to faculty and staff declaring my subconscious willingness to turn pages for any and all accompanists. Turning pages, on the surface, is absolutely inconsequential. You sit there, follow the score, stand up, watch in your peripheral vision for a head cue from the pianist, and in one quick motion, whip the page quietly and thoroughly without disrupting the sight line before returning temporarily to your seat. No brainer.
The reality... the page turner has nothing to do with the performance, little invested in the outcome, no recognition, yet the ability to crash the entire performance. Not to mention, pianists have the ability to execute some serious head fakes.
Solution: Just say no. Or demand a lot of money and top billing. When using a page turner, treat them with respect and dignity, massive amounts of scholarship money, and buy them a frosty beverage or two once in a while.
3. Sound Reinforcement Debacles
This past weekend, I was fortunate enough to perform in collaboration with wonderful musicians and dancers for a local festival. Unfortunately, as is often the case at music festivals with ever-rotating acts, a meltdown occurred. Mid-set, the stage right sound went out, taking with it the tabla, hammered dulcimer, and vocals while rendering our monitors useless. Needless to say, it was frustrating to diligently rehearse our performance, bringing countless years of collective creative experience to bare in front of a large and receptive audience, only to have it diminished by "technical difficulties."
As a side note for festival planners: Two services you don't want to skimp on:
1. Portapotties
2. Audio Services
To be clear, this is by no means a rant about audio engineers... I've worked with so many talented audio engineers over the years who've made me and my ensemble du jour sound wonderful, regardless of the innate challenges of the venue.
Here are some immediate post-performance thoughts:
-We almost always pick the musicians we perform with, but it's rare we have control over who reinforces the sound.
-An inexperienced performer is easily noticeable to the average audience member, but an inexperienced engineer is easily overlooked by contractors.
-Playing gigs with only the most reputable and highly skilled engineers is simply not reality for a large percentage of performances.
Solution (in three parts):
A. Be prepared. Have a detailed tech rider, gather as much information as to the expected audio offerings, and do your best to work those people skills. In my experience, particularly good engineers are happy to be in the background. Going unnoticed means they did their job. Inexperienced (and often overconfident) engineers need to be coerced with verbal ninja skills into wanting nothing more than to be a successful part of the product.
B. Learn to speak their language. This is similar to dealing with an IT guy/girl. Playing the innocent victim sets yourself up for catastrophe.
C. Become super awesome and famous and hire your own hand-picked audio engineers. That should do it.
The Bottom Line: We should, as artists, take music very seriously. But at the end of the day, it's music. Keeping life in perspective is not just important in the above examples, but in all we do. Learn, make notes, and move on.
Please visit my website at www.jameswdoyle.com
However, this entry has to do with circumstances that affect our performances in ways seemingly out of our control.
The following three examples entertained me today while doing what classical percussionists do best... counting rests.
1. The Editor/Engraver/Publisher Faux Pas
Sightreading this morning's rehearsal, my eyes quickly caught a measure of 12/8 with eleven beats. Jittery on iced coffee and a bit disoriented due to the heat, humidity, greenery, and weird smells of the Midwest, I double checked the error against other parts and quickly determined the original intent. No big deal. Then in a tacet moment of rehearsal, I reflected on the number of errors I've encountered over the years, considered the millions of printed scores generated throughout the centuries...
And soon lost my place counting rests. Nonetheless, what do you do with part errors?
Solution: Grab the score, other parts, and/or recordings and check the parts. Regardless of what you may find, there's no better tool than your ear. Always assume the part is wrong. Chances are, particularly if it's a standard piece of repertoire, someone has posted errata and the great oracle, Google, can shed some light on your issue.
2. Page Turners are Overworked and Underpaid
As an undergraduate, I wore an advertisement visible only to faculty and staff declaring my subconscious willingness to turn pages for any and all accompanists. Turning pages, on the surface, is absolutely inconsequential. You sit there, follow the score, stand up, watch in your peripheral vision for a head cue from the pianist, and in one quick motion, whip the page quietly and thoroughly without disrupting the sight line before returning temporarily to your seat. No brainer.
The reality... the page turner has nothing to do with the performance, little invested in the outcome, no recognition, yet the ability to crash the entire performance. Not to mention, pianists have the ability to execute some serious head fakes.
Solution: Just say no. Or demand a lot of money and top billing. When using a page turner, treat them with respect and dignity, massive amounts of scholarship money, and buy them a frosty beverage or two once in a while.
3. Sound Reinforcement Debacles
This past weekend, I was fortunate enough to perform in collaboration with wonderful musicians and dancers for a local festival. Unfortunately, as is often the case at music festivals with ever-rotating acts, a meltdown occurred. Mid-set, the stage right sound went out, taking with it the tabla, hammered dulcimer, and vocals while rendering our monitors useless. Needless to say, it was frustrating to diligently rehearse our performance, bringing countless years of collective creative experience to bare in front of a large and receptive audience, only to have it diminished by "technical difficulties."
As a side note for festival planners: Two services you don't want to skimp on:
1. Portapotties
2. Audio Services
To be clear, this is by no means a rant about audio engineers... I've worked with so many talented audio engineers over the years who've made me and my ensemble du jour sound wonderful, regardless of the innate challenges of the venue.
Here are some immediate post-performance thoughts:
-We almost always pick the musicians we perform with, but it's rare we have control over who reinforces the sound.
-An inexperienced performer is easily noticeable to the average audience member, but an inexperienced engineer is easily overlooked by contractors.
-Playing gigs with only the most reputable and highly skilled engineers is simply not reality for a large percentage of performances.
Solution (in three parts):
A. Be prepared. Have a detailed tech rider, gather as much information as to the expected audio offerings, and do your best to work those people skills. In my experience, particularly good engineers are happy to be in the background. Going unnoticed means they did their job. Inexperienced (and often overconfident) engineers need to be coerced with verbal ninja skills into wanting nothing more than to be a successful part of the product.
B. Learn to speak their language. This is similar to dealing with an IT guy/girl. Playing the innocent victim sets yourself up for catastrophe.
C. Become super awesome and famous and hire your own hand-picked audio engineers. That should do it.
The Bottom Line: We should, as artists, take music very seriously. But at the end of the day, it's music. Keeping life in perspective is not just important in the above examples, but in all we do. Learn, make notes, and move on.
Please visit my website at www.jameswdoyle.com
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