Why Percussion?

I was recently contacted by a high school student to answer questions in an interview format for a paper he's writing.  This student is fantastic and I'm doing everything in my power to "recruit" him to ASU.  His questions for our email interview are great and I thought I'd share my answers.  Personally, it's always a fruitful endeavor to reflect on the basics of what it is that makes me who I am.

Why percussion?

My grandfather was a drummer.  Ever since I can remember, he'd show me how to drum on the weekends, and when I entered 3rd grade, he gave me a drum set.  I joined the school band and orchestra in 4th grade and started lessons.  Throughout 4th-10th grade, sports and music received equal attention, but in 11th grade, I became infatuated with the timpani playing of Rick Holmes, the timpanist of the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra.  This changed my life and from then on, I was hooked on classical music as well as playing the drum set.  I had played in garage bands,  jazz combos, the school bands, orchestras, community and honor orchestras from 7th grade until I graduated, so studying music seemed natural.

After years of studying the basics- drum set, snare drum, timpani, marimba, vibes, etc, I developed an interest in other aspects of drumming- West African, Middle Eastern frame drumming, Brazilian pandeiro, and the list goes on.  It's at this point I realized percussion is endless and we will never know everything. It's the pursuit of knowledge and to always be better that drives me.  Also, the ability to share music, both with audience members and students is energizing.  Percussion lends itself well to doing this- be it teaching my university students or teaching beginners in the community- children and adult, it's something very special. 

Here's a little about the timpanist from above:
Rick Holmes, SLSO

 What’s the hardest part about your job?

There's nothing "hard" about my job, but when first starting any endeavor, there are things that are unfamiliar.  I had a teacher in college who always said "nothing is hard, it's only unfamiliar" and he was right.  Think about it- when learning a challenging section in your music that is a struggle, once you get it down, it becomes your favorite part.  "Hard" is a label that creates cognitive dissonance.  By using the term, "unfamiliar," once you get to know it, it's no longer a challenge!

Having said that, one of my biggest challenges is balancing teaching and performing- I feel both are incredibly important and support one another.  To practice 4 hours a day today means spending less time prepping to teach, and vice versa.  There's no magic formula, but I feel to be a great teacher, one must be a great performer, and to be a great performer, one must know how to teach.

Is percussion mostly talent, skill, or both?

I don't believe in "talent."  I believe people are prone to learn certain things more quickly than others, but being born with a "gift" is meaningless unless it's developed.  In all cases, how diligently someone works is the biggest indicator of musical success.  And remember, not everyone learns at the same speed.  Others ignite later and become marvelous percussionists- they just needed the right environment.  Here's a pair of books on the subject:

Talent is Overrated
The Talent Code

Pick them up from the library and give them a read. If they library doesn't own them, tell them to order them!  In the mean time, I can mail you a copy.

What is your teaching style/method?

Great question.  My teaching style, as a whole, is to teach not just the skills to be a great percussionist, but the skills to be great in any endeavor.  Teaching students to teach themselves is my ultimate goal, and along the way, this develops not just a great percussionist, but a great person.  Teaching self reflection, humility, focus, attention to detail, while encouraging passion, personality, and independence is the goal of every teaching moment. 

To get more detailed- as a university teacher, I believe in an individualized curriculum to meet students where they are and progress them to meet their goals.  Sure, there are certain standards and expectations of every student, but in general, I want to develop not just the finest "percussionist," but the finest "musician."

One of my stated philosophies for what Adams State will prepare a student for is this:
"When the phone rings and someone wants to hire you to play ____________, you can say yes."  This was the philosophy of my teachers and I am eternally grateful for their approach. 
Here's a blog post I wrote on the subject a few years ago:
"Because You Never Know"

I've had terrific teachers and mentors along the way and wouldn't trade my experiences for someone else's.  In addition, I've learned much through trial and error, and thank my students for the lessons they continue to teach me.

You're Such a Self-Promoter

With my studio's biggest performance of the semester just around the corner, marketing is underway not just for a live audience to fill the hall, but to tune in to our live webcast of the performance.

Why am I doing this?

-Conventional wisdom is self-promotion. To draw attention to my growing studio and the work they are accomplishing.

To make Adams State an attractive place for potential students to study music, consequently providing my current students with other quality students and opportunities in which to collaborate.

To build a following. Playing for a large and receptive audience is a plus for any performer. No one likes to play to seatbacks without bodies.

An attempt to be trendy and techy.  Dialing into industry standards of production.

Of course, there is truth to the above.  Those reasons tie into the ultimate rationale for promoting the concert, but are not my primary goal.

Over the past few years, my concerts have garnered local attention and built a very supportive audience. We take pride in our presentations and are always excited to share the percussive arts with our community. However, this is a biproduct of the educational goals I have set out to offer to my students.

Here's what it's really about:

- I want my students to play great for the sake of making great music.

- I want them to understand the cause and effect relationship of proper preparation and peak musical experiences.

- I want them to consider the professional neccesities of programming, audience building, quality performances, and personal and musical growth.

- And above all, I want them to look beyond their very supportive regional audience and understand that musical preparations and offerings should reach beyond "a" performance and "tonight's" audience to the untold audiences and experiences in their future.  THAT is what it's about.



Raising the stakes for their own growth. It's already apparent in the preparation cycle.

I hope to make this a permanent process. Then we raise the stakes again... I'm thinking a recording project...

Watch the performance on Wednesday, March 2nd at 7:30pm Mountain Daylight Time at
www.adams.edu/live

An Open Invitation to Watch

Yesterday afternoon, our veterinarian performed surgery on our pooch, Gabriel.  Tracy and I cleared our schedules with the intention of waiting impatiently for the doctor to give the thumb's up on a successful procedure.

Instead, we received an invitation into the operating room to watch from beginning to end.

Dr. Ratzlaff talked us through every step of the procedure, explained the anatomy, incisions, showed us the uroliths, discussed the suture patterns, and left us with a positive and anxiety-lessened experience.  He was comfortable in his work, masterful in the surgery, and open to discuss every question we threw his way.  In short, his sincerity and professionalism combined for a special experience in an otherwise undesirable situation.

Gabe is still recovering next to me as I type this and I have to say, my knowledge of canine anatomy and foremost, our trust in Dr. Ratzlaff is unwavering.

                                                          (Gabe pre-surgery)



Let's consider our craft.

Are you more aware of your practice routine when observed by others?

More considerate of your lesson plan or appearance when video recorded?

Bring your "A" game when under the microscope of your employer?

In a session at this year's PASIC, John Parks stated he records each lesson he teaches.  This provides his students with an archive to refer to and ensures his best teaching.  I found this approach inspiring, honest, and very refreshing.

Might this openness towards constant observation improve your craft?

Gain credibility with your students, audience, or potential clients?

Personally, I welcome observers to my rehearsals, lessons, and classes.  When teaching private lessons to pre-college students, I encourage parents to observe.  I require my percussion methods students to observe percussion lessons and percussion ensemble rehearsals.  If a student intends to teach private lessons, I encourage them to observe several teachers to acquire a variety of styles.

And yes,  I'd be happy to provide video of my practice sessions.*

*Warnings:
May cause drowsiness.  
Wardrobe may be disturbing.
Language may not be suitable for children.

I feel you, Bill Cosby.

The other day, I performed with our bass professor and sax professor.  Both are members of the USAF Academy Band's Falconaires, one of the nation's finest big bands.  They can play.  Really play.

Someone called "Cherokee."  Being that up tempo swing isn't part of my daily regiment, the first thing that came to mind was this wonderful clip of Bill Cosby describing his experience playing "Cherokee."

 Although I held my own, I still need those sticks with the blue tips.

Seven Mountain Biking/Musician Principles

I love to mountain bike. This habit began some years ago while living in Northern California, arguably the birthplace of mountain biking.

There are certain principles you learn early on in this sport:

1. Crashes sometimes happen. Oddly, the more epic, the less they tend to hurt. The more mundane the spill, the more likely for serious loss of skin, broken bones, and even worse, broken bike components.

2. When riding in mountain lion country, you don't have to be faster than the lions, just faster than your slowest riding partner.

3. Lighter components are generally expensive. A fit/light rider plus a light bike equals speed. The average rider can save cash by having one less Sierra Nevada at the end of the ride and avoid that extra gram or two of bodily fat.

4. When the vultures start swarming overhead, you may want to hydrate, eat, and look for your missing riding partners.

5. The solution to navigating difficult terrain may be a matter of a little more speed.

6. Don't look at what you want to avoid- i.e. trees, cliffs, giant bone-crushing rocks.

7. When you get to the top of an epic climb, enjoy the view.

These principles apply to what we do as musicians. Let's consider the parallels:

1. Mistakes happen in performance. However, if you prepare to the best of your abilities, mundane mistakes are less likely to factor into your performance or psyche.

2. To succeed as a musician, you don't necessarily have to be the best. It is, however, beneficial to be better than some of your competition.

3. Having strong financial support, high quality instruments, and a great pedigree can help you achieve your career goals. However, self-discipline, perseverance, and dedication to your art is something everyone has access to, and more importantly, is free.

4. When things aren't going your way, evaluate what you are/aren't doing and correct the course. Seek advice if needed.

5. Over-analyzation, or "paralysis by analysis" can keep you from reaching your goals. If you've chosen the right path, keep going and enjoy the ride.

6. If you're hung up on what can go wrong, guess what... things probably will. Stay focused on the goal.

7. Take time to appreciate the simple fact you're lucky enough to be a musician and the accomplishments are plentiful.

Skills You May Want to Have. Part II. Something Besides Your Primary Instrument

In a previous post, I discussed how the job-set skills needed to succeed in higher education jobs greatly exceeds the ability to give great faculty recitals, well-programmed ensemble concerts, and stellar private lessons. The first part in this series related to event planning.

This post will pertain to the realities of many college teaching positions:

Be comfortable/competent teaching something besides what your primary area of study says on your degree.

If you're looking for college jobs, you probably follow the Music Vacancy List and have likely been disheartened at the few jobs available. If so, take a moment to collect yourself, take a personal inventory, and dig a little deeper.

I am lucky enough to have a full time college teaching gig. Here's what I teach/have taught in this job:
Percussion Lessons
Percussion Ensemble
Steel Band
Percussion Methods
Percussion Literature and Pedagogy
Hand Drumming Classes (enrichment)

AND:
Jazz Ensemble (big band)
Jazz Combo
Dixie Combo
Marching Band Assistant Director/Drum Line
Improvisation
Introduction to Music Literature
Topics in Music Business
Basketball Pep Band

I annually conduct one of our high school honor bands and when needed, our concert band and wind ensemble. I also supervise the audio work studies who are responsible for all audio/video recording and sound reinforcement needs of the department.

Many college gigs require the above, as well as an expectation to teach theory, aural skills, music history, additional conducting duties, music ed classes, and a host of other areas.

I love my job. It is full of diversity and offers a variety of skills to draw upon and continue to improve upon. However, this gig isn't for everyone.

Many of my full-time friends and colleagues do something similar, and very few teach courses specific only to percussion. Those who do rarely did so in their first gig.

If you aspire to teach college, the best advice I can possibly give is to diversify your skills, seek opportunities outside of your primary area of study, and acquire significant professional teaching experience.

The upside is you become a more versatile person. And if you're lucky enough to land your utopian gig of teaching only in your primary area, your diverse background will enhance your relationship with colleagues and effectiveness with students.

Watch for more in this series in the coming weeks, and visit my website at www.jameswdoyle.com

Reflections on my time as a musician in the United States Air Force

I enlisted on May 25th, 2000. That evening, I found myself in basic military training, and at the beginning of an 11 ½ year adventure as a military musician.

A few months prior, I had won an audition with the USAF Band of the Golden West and was guaranteed a position as a percussionist upon completion of basic training. There are names, faces, and memories you never forget during the indoctrination into the armed forces, and they are just as vivid today as they were in 2000. One such memory was of Sgt. Johnson determining leadership of the drum section of the trainee drum and bugle corps by asking Matt Thomas and I to name our favorite drummer.*

Once out of basic training, I settled into life in California and time was measured by tours rather than semesters. My playing responsibilities were with the concert band, ceremonial band, percussion ensemble, and salsa band, and my “extra duty” consisted of booking tours and acting as a media representative for the band.

After five and a half years of performing, touring, and watching the military around me mobilize for war, it was time for a change. I broke my second enlistment, moved to Colorado to teach at Adams State, and began a six year stint with the Air National Guard Band of the Gulf Coast. During this “part-time” military portion of my journey, I performed regularly with other Air Force bands and deployed with a rock band in support of Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom. These experiences traveling and performing throughout war zones will never be forgotten.

So on this day, December 22, 2011, my last day as a member of the military, I have a few reflections to share.

1. In my family, there is a lineage of military service. The fact I went straight to college was no big deal for my parents, but I’ve always had the desire to continue the tradition. Serving as an Air Force musician after graduate school fit the bill. As a member of the military, to include musicians, means making sacrifices. As you assimilate into a new culture, service becomes your life. Yes, in many cases you lose free will, but you are afforded countless opportunities for personal and professional growth.

2. Some of the best musicians I’ve ever worked with were in the Air Force. Talented, diverse, and by the nature of the job, humble. This includes my experiences in the Air National Guard. Civilian experience in the music industry is invaluable to the military band career field. Many of my colleagues, active duty and guard, are great musicians, leaders, and mentors.

3. This path was an outstanding way to launch a career straight out of college. Housing and healthcare for Tracy and I, great instruments to play, numerous musicians with whom to collaborate, and opportunities to perform a plethora of repertoire in a variety of settings for hundreds of thousands of people are hard to come by. In retrospect, it was easy to take these things for granted.

4. Coexisting with 59 eccentric individuals in a daily work environment where you make music together, travel extensively together, socialize together, all within a rank structure, is guaranteed to develop serious people skills.

5. Military bureaucracy (and health care) is pretty much the same as in the civilian world, including the politics. Some things are better and some are worse, but it’s all pretty much the same, just different clothing and haircuts.

6. Sometimes the best audiences were the hardest to reach. Be it the middle of the Mojave desert or the Iraqi desert, the Oregon coast or the African coast, there are wonderful audiences appreciative of live music. I always enjoyed the gorgeous concert halls and upscale hotels, but the remote concerts hold the greatest memories.

7. Without question, I garnered a wider world perspective as a result of the people I met and the places I performed. Four continents and numerous countries meant performances in the wealthiest and poorest locations imaginable. From dignitaries, movie stars, and professional athletes to average taxpayers, African villagers, and wounded service members, interactions varied drastically. These experiences shaped my career, musicianship, citizenship, opinions on domestic and foreign policy, and purview as an educator.

And here are a few random thoughts about my time in the Air Force:

1. Being “required” to exercise as part of my day was kind of awesome.
2. I’d rather fly in a C-130 over Afghanistan than on a domestic American Airlines flight.
3. I’m not looking forward to paying for sticks and mallets after today.
4. The uniform thing was great. On most days, I essentially wore the equivalent of pajamas with boots and never had to plan my wardrobe.
5. Not everyone in the military is a right-wing conservative.
6. I’ll miss the TSA agent thanking me for my service.
7. I won’t miss the endless computer-based training.
8. In the grand scheme of things, the military bands budget is a drop in the bucket.
9. Despite #8, I hope the career field can evolve to be more efficient, effective, and relevant.
10. I don’t have to “work” on the 4th of July next year!

Thank you for supporting the past several years of my life with your tax dollars and have a safe and Happy Holiday!

*The training instructor looked a bit like Kevin Eubanks, Jay Leno’s former band leader/guitarist. In my sleep-deprived state, my answer was Marvin “Smitty” Smith, Leno’s drummer. Matt responded with Gene Krupa. Needless to say, I was stuck being in charge of the drums and Matt was forever known as “Krupa.”


Photos from top to bottom: 1. Drumming in Iraq 2. My Grandfather in Europe during World War II 3. Playing for villagers in the Horn of Africa

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