The Neglected Digit

Think about your hands for a moment - which parts of them do you feel are most critical to your recorder playing? My bet is you mostly consider your fingers and left thumb - we naturally see these as doing most of the heavy lifting. But what about the digit which literally does the heavy lifting - your right thumb? We often take this one for granted - after all, it doesn’t have a hole to cover, so it somehow seems less important, doesn’t it? This message from Richard, one of my Score Lines subscribers, got me thinking, and made me realise our most neglected digit deserves a blog post of its own! 

“Much has been written about technique but strangely little is mentioned about the right thumb.  Indeed, I never thought about it other than to recognise that it supports the instrument. I was experiencing some difficulties with bottom F - my hand and fingers are not as nimble/flexible as they were - and I began to think about whether altering the position of my right thumb was an issue. Was it optimally positioned - indeed what do experts advise?  I found nothing!”

A supporting and enabling role

In common with most woodwind instruments, the right thumb’s role in recorder playing is mostly a matter of support - only on the bassoon does it also have to cover a hole or press keys. This digit’s job is a supporting and enabling one - namely holding our instrument up and ensuring our other thumb and fingers can do their tasks easily and efficiently.

There are two main considerations for your right thumb - using it effectively to support the instrument and the way its position affects your overall hand shape. Both of these have an impact on the ease and level of success with which you play. Placing your thumb in the wrong place on the back of the recorder can have a detrimental effect on your playing, and sometimes result in discomfort too. 

Fundamentally, your right thumb is there to support the recorder, thus enabling your fingers to cover the holes and to move freely at all times.

In search of the perfect hand position 

You may well be familiar with this image, taken from Principles of the Recorder, Flute and Oboe by Jacques Hotteterre le Romain. Only the fingers on the top surface of the recorder are fully visible, but analysing their position tells us a lot about where our thumbs should be as well. 

Look at the shape of the fingers and their position, relative to the recorder. They’re gently curved, adopting the shape they naturally take when at rest, and lie more or less at ninety degrees to the recorder. If you have one nearby, grab a recorder (I suggest a descant or treble) and try to emulate this finger position with your own hands. Now look down at your hands and see where your right thumb ends up. 

If you follow this example to the letter, you may find your right thumb doesn’t even reach the back of the recorder - this is partially dependent on the relative lengths of your thumb and fingers, as well as the size of recorder you’re holding. If this is the case, gently move your thumb over until it finds a natural position on the back of the instrument. It’s a good idea to stand in front of a mirror while doing this, as it allows you to easily see the position of your fingers too. Don’t forget to hold the recorder up to your lips so you can really gauge your natural playing position.

What’s the perfect position for your right thumb?

This varies from person to person, depending on their hand size - after all, we’re all built slightly differently. In general though, the best position is somewhere between the 4th and 5th finger holes. I’ll come back to this later, when we consider how to achieve a consistency of thumb placement.

Hand shape can have a big impact

As you hold your recorder up to play, look down at the shape of your hand. How much space is there between your thumb and first finger? Are they close together, or is there some room between them? Ideally you’re after a rounded space beneath your fingers - imagine being able to pop a small satsuma or tangerine in the palm of your right hand! 

A good hand position

Now look at the position of your right wrist. Try to avoid dropping your wrist towards your body. Doing so reduces the space between thumb and fingers, creating tension across your knuckles. Tension is never a good thing! Aim for a natural, gentle, convex curve in your wrists which is a continuation of the shape of your fingers. If you’re not sure whether you’ve found the right position, try intentionally dropping your wrist and see how it feels. You’ll immediately notice it’s harder to cover the finger holes and your knuckles will feel more tense and restricted. 

When the right wrist drops it negatively impacts the position of the fingers too

How bendy are you?

We all naturally have differing levels of flexibility in our bodies. Having a good range of movement in our joints is generally a positive thing, but for those who are very bendy, or even have hypermobility, it can create difficulties. Hold your right hand in front of you, as in the picture below, as though giving someone a ‘thumbs up’. How far does the tip of your thumb curve back on itself? For most people it will bend a little, but for those who are double jointed or hypermobile it can comfortably stretch almost as far as ninety degrees - this is sometimes known as a ‘hitchhikers' thumb’, as you can see below.

For recorder playing this can result in a less than ideal position for either hand. For the right hand, it can reduce the space between thumb and fingers when holding a recorder, resulting in tension across the knuckles as I’ve described above. If you recognise this description in your own hands, try bending the top joint of your thumb a little to open up this space, rather than just allowing it to flop into its totally relaxed, overextended position. This may help, if you can get used to a change of position, but I have another solution which I’ll talk about below.

Make gravity your friend

Its not uncommon to feel the recorder is in danger of slipping though your hands when playing. If this occurs, players sometimes end up resting one of their fingers between the holes (often the right hand first finger) for extra support and control. This is far from ideal, as those fingers should really be concerned merely with covering the holes!

If this description seems familiar, try lifting your recorder up a touch more, moving it slightly closer towards a horizontal position than a vertical one. Doing so changes the instrument’s centre of balance, allowing gravity to gently push its weight down onto your right thumb. Even a small change here can have a big effect, making it feel that the recorder is less likely to slip from your hands.

Compromise is sometimes necessary

Just as the length of your thumb can affect how close you get to the ‘perfect’ hand position, the size of recorder you’re playing also has an impact.

For most people, smaller recorders, such as descant and treble, can be played with little difficulty, but when it comes to the larger instruments compromises sometimes need to be made in order to cover the finger holes. It’s not unusual to have to drop the right wrist a little in order to play the tenor recorder, simply because the distance between the finger holes is greater. However, when we reach the bass, this stretch required is often diminished again because of the addition of keys to cover certain holes.

To play my straight tenor recorder I have to drop my right wrist a little, but I have fairly long fingers so I can still cover the fingerholes without difficulty.

The Knick - a practical trade off

In recent decades Knick instruments have become much more commonplace - especially tenor and bass recorders. The bend in the head joint brings the body of the recorder closer to your own body, reducing the strain on the arms and making it easier to reach the finger holes. In general this is a positive thing, but there’s a trade off as it also change the instrument’s centre of gravity. I’ll talk about instrument supports in a moment - for knick instruments they’re particularly critical.

Having the knick shifts this middle joint into a more vertical position. This can make it feel as though the instrument is going to slide down through your hands - after all, the very nature of gravity pulls things downwards. I would argue that all knick instruments (be it a tenor or bass) really need a thumb rest. Many have one installed when purchased, but if yours doesn’t I would have one fitted as soon as possible.

New innovations 

In recent years Kunath recorders, who make the square Paetzold instruments, have been innovating, allowing those with small hands to try sizes of recorder which might otherwise have been impossible to play. At the more expensive end of the scale there’s the Paetzold knick tenor, which has keys to cover all the finger holes. The end of the recorder rests on the seat between one’s legs, taking away all worries about supporting the instrument.

More recently, they’ve come up with a more modestly priced solution - the Sigo tenor. This has a folded internal bore (following the principle of the renaissance rackett), resulting in a tenor where the stretch between holes for the fingers is somewhere between that of a descant and treble. I know many players for whom this has been a real game changer, allowing them to play the tenor comfortably for the first time. A bass Sigo is also in the works, so it’ll be interesting to see if that is similarly impactful. 

With both the Sigo and the Paetzold knick tenor, the right hand thumb position becomes much less critical as your seat provides all the support, allowing you to focus entirely on the fingers. Their tone and response may not be to everyone’s taste, but it’s been wonderful to see so many people exploring the mellow tones of the tenor without the discomfort faced by those with small hands.

Does your thumb need some help?

On larger recorders it’s not unusual for a thumb rest to be added to help you support the instrument, but don’t dismiss the idea of some assistance on smaller recorders if you need it. If a thumb support of some type makes it more comfortable and easier to play, there’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t use one.

Let’s look at the possibilities for recorder supports…

Traditional thumb rests

This is perhaps the most obvious way to help support your recorder, and they come in many different forms. Some instruments (basses for instance) come with a thumb rest pre-installed, and these sometimes include a screw mechanism to allow for adjustment. As we’ve already noted, hands come in many different sizes and in varying proportions, so one size doesn’t necessarily fit all. 

For smaller recorders, thumb rests come in many different styles and materials. If you’ve never used a thumb rest and want to see if it’s the answer for you, the simplest solution can be a piece of BluTack or Plasticine before committing yourself to something more permanent. You only need a small piece, and it can be shaped and re-shaped to suit your needs. I would start by placing it on the back of the recorder, somewhere between the holes 4 and 5. If this allows you to comfortably cover the holes that’s great. If not, try moving it up or down a little until you find the perfect spot. 

If this solution works, you might wish to go for something a little more aesthetically pleasing and/or permanent. A great, cost effective solution is a clip on plastic thumb rest, like those for descant, treble and tenor, made by recorder manufacturer Aulos. They only cost a couple of pounds and can be easily slid on and off the recorder. They blend in perfectly with plastic recorders, but take care when attaching them to wooden instruments to avoid scratching the surface of the wood. 

Photo from Early Music Shop

I’ve also seen recorder players who fashion a personalised thumb rest from modelling clay, such as Sugru. This solution gives you the chance to mould it to the perfect shape before it cures permanently. Sugru will attach to wood if you put it in place before the material has cured, but be aware that it may leave a mark if you later remove it. But there’s nothing to stop you moulding a thumb rest from this material and then attach it with double sided adhesive tape or a suitable type of glue once it’s set into its final shape. Sugru comes in many different colours, so this solution may allow you to find a shade which closely matches the wood of your recorder.

If you want a more permanent solution, you can buy wooden or metal thumb rests which can be glued or even screwed to the instrument. If you consider attaching one permanently, I would recommend consulting an experienced woodwind repairer for advice on the best type of attachment to use, lest you do irreparable damage to your favourite instrument! 

Where to place your thumb rest

The most efficient and comfortable position for a thumb rest will vary, depending on the relative length of your thumb and fingers. For most people though, a good starting point is around halfway between the fourth and fifth finger holes. I would begin by experimenting with a temporary rest, shifting it up and down a small amount until you find the right spot for you. Bear in mind that the perfect position may vary between the different sizes of recorder.

Each time you move your temporary thumb rest, really take some time to explore how each change of position feels. Does moving it up or down a little help you cover the finger holes more easily? Moving it too low down can create unnecessary tension in the bottom joint of your thumb, as well as restricting the movement of your fingers, so take your time and really analyse what feels most comfortable.

Thumb rests for the terminally indecisive

Most people find a single position for their thumb rest which allows them to support the instrument and cover the finger holes effectively. However, it can take a little while to find the perfect spot. For those who can’t quite make up their mind I have a few practical solutions…

I’ve already mentioned the possibilities if Blutak/plasticene above, but another option is a short length of ribbon or cord. Many recorders have decorative mouldings on the foot joint and you can anchor the ribbon around these. You then create a loop of ribbon, into which you tuck your right thumb. It can be a little fiddly to install, but once you’ve got the length right it’s a lightweight and flexible way of supporting your instrument without having to glue anything in place.

A friend of mine recently shared a different solution she’s alighted upon. Attaching a small piece of fine grade sandpaper to the back of your recorder using double-sided adhesive tape, with the rough side facing your thumb, it creates a small amount of friction to help hold the instrument against the skin. This solution doesn’t provide any active support, but can offer a little more reassurance than the natural shiny surface of a recorder. When the sandpaper loses its roughness it can easily be replaced with a fresh piece. Incidentally, the curved corners to the sandpaper in the image below make it less prone to peeling away. As you can see here, my friend Rose combines this with a home made thumb rest made of Sugru, creating a positive sense of security when playing.

Is it okay to use a thumb rest on smaller recorders?

Absolutely, it is!

I’ve met players over the years who don’t use a thumb rest as a matter of pride - somehow they feel using one would be tantamount to admitting they’re less of a player. I disagree with this and take a pragmatic approach. If a thumb rest makes playing more comfortable and allows you to cover the finger holes with ease, you are within your rights to do so on any size of recorder.

When I taught the recorder to young children I would habitually provide them with a clip on thumb rest (like the Aulos one pictured above), even on a descant recorder, and especially if they had small hands. Doing so meant they consistently put their right thumb in the correct position from the start and allowed them to have a good sense of stability and control as they played. With a thumb rest in place from day one, it also meant they were less likely to get into the bad habit of resting their fingers on the instrument between the finger holes. As we all know from painful experience, it’s always better to create good habits from the start than to have to unlearn bad habits later. As my pupils grew they sometimes removed the thumb rest later, but by that stage they had good habits in place and were able to hold the recorder with confidence.

Yes, I realise that most of my Score Lines readers won’t be children, but there’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t use a thumb rest if it helps you at any age!

Other methods of support

Larger recorders, such a tenors and basses may require more support than just a thumb rest, to compensate for their additional weight. Most bass recorders come with a sling (which can be worn around the neck or across the body), but there’s another possible solution - a spike. This attaches to the bottom of the instrument, transferring all the weight into the ground. Some bass recorders are now supplied from the maker with a screw-in spike (the Kung Superio bass comes to mind), but detachable ones (attached with a ring of Velcro) are available for any variety of bass recorder. I have an aluminium one, made by Anthony Barrett (pictured below), but wooden ones are also available.

The buttress finger

I’ve already mentioned the dangers of resting the right hand first finger against the recorder for additional support. This particular finger is needed for many notes and doing this can really slow down your playing. However, the concept of using a ‘buttress finger’ is a technique many players use. Compared to the other right hand fingers, the little finger spends much more time in the air and is only occasionally required to cover a finger hole. This means it can be used as an additional point of support. By resting it on the decorative beading at the top of the footjoint, it works in tandem with the right thumb to create a greater sense of balance and security.

I sometimes do this myself, although there are certain pieces of music (I first discovered this while learning the Vivaldi Concerto in C minor) where it’s less convenient as I need the little finger more often than usual to shade the lowest hole to tune certain notes. This may not be a problem in the repertoire you play though, so I would definitely give it a try and see if it helps you.

Challenges for the ‘mature’ recorder player

As I’ve already mentioned, achieving the ideal hand position can be tricky for those with overly bendy hands. But similar issues can often afflict all of us as we age. Getting older brings many benefits - greater knowledge, experience, confidence - but sadly for many it can also bring arthritis and decreased flexibility. When this strikes the hands it can result in deformed joints, sometimes making it harder to cover the finger holes cleanly. 

If this problem makes it difficult to cover the lowest holes, one solution is to buy a recorder with keys, or to have additional keys installed on existing instruments. But if arthritis affects the bottom joint of your right thumb this doesn’t necessarily solve the problem entirely. Many years ago one of my adult pupils encountered exactly this problem and her solution was to create a built up thumb rest from layers of cork. Moving the right thumb away from the recorder opened up the space within the palm of the hand, allowing her to reach the fingerholes more comfortably. Ultimately she commissioned someone to make a wooden thumb rest of the right height for each of her recorders, which served the same purpose and looked very elegant. 

More recently, another friend of mine has faced the same problem and has come up with an equally ingenious solution. A simple polystyrene ball, purchased from a craft shop, can be easily carved out to fit onto the back of the recorder, with a small scoop excavated from the opposite side for the thumb to rest beneath. Once shaped to the right proportions it can be attached with double sided tape or even an elastic band. 

If arthritis means you’re struggling to reach the lowest finger holes, I suggest you explore this solution. These balls can be bought inexpensively, in many different sizes, and with a little trial and error you’ll find the perfect size to give your right thumb the appropriate degree of ‘lift’. For my friend, this has enabled her to keep playing the recorder as the arthritis in her thumb has progressed and she’s now created appropriately sized rests for all her recorders.

Many thanks to Jan for allowing me to take and share some photos of her thumb rests (and hands) - I’m sure these explain the concept better than my words could ever do! If this is a problem you’re facing I hope it may inspire you to explore this option and hopefully keep playing for many more years.

How’s your right thumb doing?

Have my words made you look at this neglected digit in a new light? Have you spotted something in your own hand position which would benefit from some care and attention? None of this is rocket science, but sometimes a small adjustment can make a real difference to our playing. I’d love to hear if this helped you and perhaps triggered you to make some changes to your technique. A big thank you to Richard, my Score Lines subscriber, whose email inspired this blog post - your words made me think in a new light about my right thumb! As ever, please do leave a comment below if you have questions or feedback - who knows your comment could start my train of thought towards the next Score Lines blog!

The Art of Fugue

Do you give much consideration to the structure of the music you play? For those of us who aren’t composers, the dark art of writing music can seem a bit of a mystery, but a little understanding will often help us play better. In previous posts I’ve talked about a selection of different musical forms - dances (Renaissance and Baroque), the canzona and sonata and the trio sonata too. While all of these musical forms have a common pattern, there’s another genre of composition which has perhaps the most formal structure - the fugue.

As recorder players we’ll often encounter fugues, whether we recognise them or not. Sometimes they’ll crop up during the course of a piece, and in this situation we often describe the music as being fugal - the composer uses elements of the fugue’s form without writing the complete fugue structure. Of course there are plenty of composers who’ve written formal, standalone fugues - perhaps the most obvious being J.S.Bach. As well as his Well Tempered Klavier (a collection of 48 preludes and fugues - two in every major and minor key) he went even further towards the end of his life, creating a work called The Art of Fugue. This is a collection of fugues, composed during the final decade of Bach’s life. It comprises fourteen fugues (he called them Contrapuncti) and four canons, all in D minor and all based in some way upon a single melodic phrase - truly the pinnacle of Baroque fugue writing and an example for future generations of composers to follow and build upon.

Bach’s handwritten score of The Art of Fugue

As we’ll see, each movement becomes ever more complex. But why did Bach write this magnum opus? Maybe it was the musical equivalent of climbing Mount Everest - simply because he could? Perhaps a more likely reason is it was intended as a didactic work, designed to show others the possibilities of the fugal form.

The final fugue remains unfinished - yet another mystery. There are three possible answers I can see. Perhaps he died while writing, quill in hand? That’s certainly a romantic theory, but probably unlikely. Maybe he purposely left it unfinished so future students could try their hand at finishing the master’s work? Again, this is possible, and dozens of people have done exactly this in the two and half centuries since Bach’s death. If you fancy exploring the infinite possibilities, the Half of the Alphabet blog has collated a list of them, but be prepared to disappear into a vast musical rabbit hole if you start here!

Perhaps the most likely, and most prosaic answer, is that Bach did finish the final fugue, but the last pages have been lost. We’ll look at this theory in more detail later, but at a time when it was far from simple to make a back up of your creations (there were no photocopiers in the 1740s) this strikes me as the most practical reason for its incomplete state.

Which instrument was The Art of Fugue composed for?

This is another conundrum which has had musicians debating for centuries. Bach’s manuscript, and the editions which followed, are laid out in open score (that is a separate line for each voice) rather than the two stave layout we expect for keyboard music today. This has led some to speculate that Bach meant the work to be an intellectual, didactic work rather than one for performance. However, it wasn’t unusual for keyboard players of the period to read from open score, and placing each voice on its own stave also makes the individual melodic shapes much clearer. Modern pianists might find this type of score more challenging to read, but it’s entirely possible to play The Art of Fugue on a keyboard, with two lines being played by each hand.

Of course the open score arrangement has also led many musicians to consider the possibility of performing the Contrapuncti as works for four individual instruments. This has resulted in performances and recordings for almost every conceivable combination of instruments. Woodwind, strings, brass - you name it, it’s been recorded using endless combinations of sounds! This may not have been Bach’s intention, but I like to think he’d have approved of such ingenuity. Some of my favourites include the following:

A life beyond Bach’s death

Unfortunately Bach died before The Art of Fugue could be published, so that task fell to his son, C.P.E. Bach. He oversaw the engraving of the printing plates, as well as including a number of movements which weren’t part of his father’s original plan. The first edition was published in May 1751, some ten months after Bach died, followed by a second edition in 1752. Sadly the copper engraving plates have long since been lost, but a scan of this edition is available to download from IMSLP. Unusually the engraver chose to make good use of the blank space at the end of several of the Contrapuncti, filling it with elegant engravings of flowers, as you can see below. What a shame modern editors don’t think to make such beautiful use of blank pages today!

A page from the first edition of The Art of Fugue

Let’s go exploring…

Through this blog I’ll use examples from The Art of Fugue to help you understand the structure of a fugue, but later we’ll look at examples from other composers too. I’ve created my own arrangements of eight of the Contrapuncti for you to play. Look out for the black buttons on screen which you can click to download the sheet music. I’ve also chosen recordings of some of the individual Contrapuncti, played on recorders, so you can hear the music as you follow the score. Think of this as a full immersion exploration of the fugues of Bach and others!

But what is a fugue?

Let’s begin at the beginning…

Every fugue starts with a subject – this is the main theme that runs through the work. In The Art of Fugue Bach uses the following idea as his subject and it connects the entire collection of fugues and canons. It’s made from music’s simplest building blocks – an arpeggio and a scale.

The subject on which the whole of The Art of Fugue is based.

This subject is played by one voice and then imitated by the second voice – this imitation is called the answer. The second voice plays the subject at a different pitch – usually four or five notes higher or lower than the original. If you look at the example (from Contrapunctus I) below, the subject is marked in blue, while the answers are marked in red. See how the second entry of the subject (in the bass part) reverts to the same pitch as the first, while its answer (in the tenor line) is at the same pitch as the first answer in bar 5.

The exposition of Contrapunctus I

In a fugue there are two types of answer – a real answer and a tonal answer. A real answer is one where the notes follow exactly the same shape as the original. A tonal answer is one where the shape of the phrase has been altered slightly to help it fit with the other lines. In Contrapunctus I Bach uses a tonal answer. If it were a real answer the second note (circled in red below) would need to be an E:

Bach’s tonal answer to the subject in Contrapunctus I

While the second voice is playing this answer, the first voice plays a new musical idea against it. If this music also recurs in other lines it’s called a countersubject. Some composers are very consistent in creating a recurring countersubject, but Bach doesn’t use this technique much in The Art of Fugue.

All of Bach’s fugues in this work have four voices, but there’s nothing to say a fugue can’t have fewer or more voices. The key thing is that each voice begins the piece with the subject. When all the voices have played their first iteration of the subject, we’ve reached the end of the exposition. The example above shows the whole exposition of Contrapunctus I.

What comes next?

After the exposition, the music continues through a series of episodes. These give the composer an opportunity to explore fresh musical ideas, bringing the subject back from time to time.

In Contrapunctus III Bach takes the music in a more colourful direction, with slinky chromatic scales (marked in blue below) and a rising scale pattern (marked in red) which repeatedly appears in the bass line to create a sense of cohesiveness.

Bach’s clever use of chromaticism in Contrapunctus III

Decoration and ornamentation

There’s nothing in the fugal rulebook to say a composer has to keep the subject exactly the same throughout a fugue. While the form has a very clear structure, there’s no reason why the subject can’t be creatively decorated to vary its rhythmic and/or melodic shape. Bach does this often in The Art of Fugue, and Contrapunctus V is a very good example. He uses dotted rhythms to add connecting notes (circled in red in the example below) between the minims, creating a line which has a new shape but is still perceptibly related to the original subject, as you can see here:

Bach’s decorated version of the Art of Fugue subject

In Contrapunctus II Bach leaves the main subject unadulterated, but instead chooses to have some fun with the melodic lines following its entries. As you can see from this extract from the first published edition, the music is filled with jaunty dotted rhythms interweaving with each other.

Contrapunctus II with its tapestry of dotted rhythms

Exploring different styles from other nations

In Contrapunctus VI Bach looks beyond his native Germany to the style of another country - France. Here he uses more dotted rhythms, along with free flowing runs of faster notes to create the impression of a French Overture. He even labels the movement, In stylo Francese. As you can see from the extract below, it has a much more florid look and style than the other Contrapuncti, and as a result is rather more challenging to play.

Bach also uses Contrapunctus VI to experiment with some mathematical tricks, but we’ll come onto that in more detail shortly.

The opening 16 bars of Contrapunctus VI

Inverted music

Have you ever wondered how a melody might sound if you played it upside down? You’re about to find out, because this exactly what Bach does in Contrapunctus IV!

This technique is called Inversion and here the music is literally turned upside down. Intervals (the distance between neighbouring notes) which rise in the original subject will now fall by the same distance, and vice versa. See how the shapes mirror each other in the two examples below. If you have a recorder handy, why not play both versions to hear how inverting the theme changes the sound and feel.

Subject from Contrapunctus I, the right way up…

…and the inverted subject from Contrapunctus IV

Going backwards as well as forwards

You might think Bach used everything from his toolbox when composing The Art of Fugue, but there’s one technique he doesn’t include - that’s Retrograde. This is where a composer flips a theme horizontally, so every note is played in reverse. For instance, a retrograde version of the subject from The Art of Fugue might appear like this:

If Bach had used his theme in retrograde it might have sounded like this….

Bach wasn’t a stranger to the concept of retrograde though, writing a Crab Canon in The Musical Offering, BWV1079. This is an earlier collection of canons and fugues, from 1747, which are all based around a theme given to him by Frederick the Great. In the following version of the Crab Canon for recorders (arranged by R.D. Tennent) you’ll see I’ve marked the first two bars in green. Now look at the final two bars of the tenor recorder part and you’ll see red box, which contains exactly the same notes and rhythms but in reverse. If you follow both lines from opposite ends with your fingers you’ll see the contain exactly the same notes and rhythms - so clever!

Why not find a friend to play this with and you can find out how it feels to play the same music in two different directions at once! You can download the PDF sheet music here.

The Crab Canon from The Musical Offering

Playing with rhythm

As I mentioned earlier, Bach sometimes plays with rhythm in his fugues, by extending and contracting the musical lines.

Making the note values longer is a technique called Augmentation. For example, in Contrapunctus IX he includes main subject of The Art of Fugue, but doubles the length of each note. Compare the two extracts below and you’ll see how each note is twice as long as the original.

Original theme

Augmented theme from Contrapunctus IX

In contrast, Diminution does the opposite, making the note values shorter.

You remember I earlier showed you the decorated theme Bach uses in Contrapunctus V? Not content with simply ornamenting his musical idea, in both Contrapunctus VI and Contrapunctus VII he uses that decorated version in both diminution and augmentation. Not only that, he does this with the theme the right way up, and in its inverted form!

This is the decorated theme:

Compare that with the version in diminution - all the same notes, but half the length:

And finally, the same musical idea in augmentation:

Cranking up the excitement

As a fugue progresses, composers often look for a way to crank up the energy and excitement. One way to do this is Stretto – a technique where the main subject is repeated in a second voice before it has finished playing in the first. These closely packed entries create a sense of greater urgency and tension. In Contrapunctus V Bach does exactly this, writing entries of the decorated subject just two beats apart from each other. To add to the complexity, one of them is the right way up (shown with a red box below), while the other is inverted (in a blue box).

If you want an even more extreme form of stretto, that can also be found in Contrapunctus V. In this extract, he uses just the first few notes of the decorated theme in all four voices, with just one beat between each entry, as you can see with the green boxes below.

Double fugues - twice the fun!

What could be more exciting than a fugue with a single subject? A fugue with two different subjects, of course! Unsurprisingly this is called a Double Fugue, and Bach uses this trick several times in The Art of Fugue.

His first experiment with this appears in Contrapunctus IX, which begins with an entirely new, and altogether more energetic idea:

The new subject for Contrapunctus IX

The movement begins with what seems like a fugue based entirely on this new theme, but he has a surprise waiting in the wings. At bar 35, after all four voices have played this new subject he reintroduces the original subject, from Contrapunctus I, but this time in augmentation, as I mentioned earlier:

From here to the end, every time the busy subject appears it’s accompanied in parallel by the main Art of Fugue subject.

Not content with writing one double fugue, Bach continues with this strategy in Contrapunctus X, although his new musical idea is more fragmented than the one from Contrapunctus IX. Again, he uses it the right way up and in inversion, before reminding us of the decorated version of the main Art of Fugue subject at bar 23. Finally, at bar 44 he brings the two together, as you can see in the full score (which can be downloaded by clicking the button below).

The rather fragmented subject in Contrapunctus X

The grand finale

As if double fugues weren’t impressive enough, Bach brings The Art of Fugue to a climax with a Triple Fugue for Contrapunctus XIV. As you might imagine, this brings together three different, new subjects.

The first subject shares some genetic material with the original, used in Contrapunctus I, but is more static and provides a calm, thoughtful start to the fugue:

Subject No.1 from Contrapunctus XIV

The second subject has a more fluid feel, with running quavers. It’s also the longest subject, running for almost seven full bars:

Subject No.2 from Contrapunctus XIV

For the final subject Bach takes an autobiographical turn, converting his name into music. In German the note B natural is indicated by the letter H, so the name BACH is spelt out by the first four notes of the subject. Other composers have also used the same technique. For instance, Dmitri Shostakovich used DSCH as a musical motif D-E flat-C-B natural in several of his works.

Subject No.3 from Contrapunctus XIV

In the final few bars Bach finally brings all three subjects together for the first time. The extract below shows this meeting of ideas, with the 1st subject in red, the 2nd in green and the 3rd BACH theme in blue.

Before we get to see more of how these three ideas will work together, the music stops abruptly at bar 239. It may be that Bach originally intended it to become a quadruple fugue, bringing the original subject back, combined with the others, but his true intentions remain a tantalising mystery!

The final few bars of Contrapunctus XIV, where all three subjects coalesce.

It’s not all about Bach…

While you could argue that Bach is the master of the fugue structure, he’s far from the only composer to have written such works. I’m now going to point you to some works by other composers to listen to. Several of them have appeared among my online consort videos over the years, so for those you’ll see buttons which will whisk you over to the download folder, so you can play along with me if you want to.

The roots of the fugue

The concept of imitation wasn’t a new one when Bach started composing fugues - composers had been writing imitative music for many years. Canzon Seconda by Giovanni Gabrieli begins with strict imitation between all four voices. Composed more than a century before Bach wrote The Art of Fugue, it doesn’t yet follow the precise format of a fugue, but you can see its genetic connection to the Baroque fugue.

Bach’s hero

At the age of 20 Bach walked nearly 400 kilometres to meet his hero, Dietrich Buxtehude, and hear him play the organ, so you won’t be surprised to learn that he too wrote fugues. This Organ Fugue in G (you can download the score here to follow along) also uses one of the techniques favoured by Bach in The Art of Fugue, inverting the main theme for the middle section, from bar 19, before returning to its original form for the final section at bar 39.

Beethoven’s counterpoint teacher

Johann Georg Albrechtsberger is best known today as the person who taught counterpoint and fugue writing to the young Beethoven, so it’s no surprise to find he wrote a large number of fugues himself. The subject of this Organ Fugue is really quite simple - just seven notes - but he is still able to create a satisfying fugue from them.

Following in the footsteps of his teacher…

Albrechtsberger was evidently an effective teacher, as Beethoven went on to write powerful fugues in many of his works, including several of his symphonies. His fugal efforts culminated in the Grosse Fuge, Op.133, composed in 1825 and originally intended to be the finale of his 13th String Quartet. By this stage, just two years before his death, Beethoven was profoundly deaf and this disability led him to write some extraordinarily forward thinking and very demanding music. Ultimately his publisher insisted on a different finale for the Quartet, so as not to harm sales of the sheet music, and the Grosse Fuge became a standalone work. It’s an immense double fugue lasting some fifteen minutes and not an easy piece to understand. The video below includes the score on screen so you can follow along to the music as you listen.

The fugue as part of a bigger picture

As I mentioned earlier, fugues don’t have to be standalone works and composers often include fugal sections within larger works. Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus (from Messiah), for instance, begins as a joyful chorus in block harmony, but then introduces a series of fugal entries from bar 41. This doesn’t progress into a full blown fugue, but the subject returns again at the end of bar 71 against the other musical ideas.

Mozart’s foray into the double fugue

I’ve mentioned Beethoven’s double fugue writing already, but there are many more by other composers. One of the best known is the Kyrie from Mozart’s Requiem, which contains two contrasting subjects. You can play along with my consort video, but here is one of my favourite recordings too, which I think captures the full operatic drama of the music.

Fugues in every key

Bach wasn’t the only composer to explore the possibilities of writing fugues in every key - Dmitri Shostakovich also composed a Prelude and Fugue in each major and minor key, inspired by and dedicated to the pianist Tatiana Nicolayeva, during 1950 and 51. No.4 in E minor is a powerful double fugue, played here by Vladimir Ashkenazy. If you’d like to follow the score as you listen you can download it from IMSLP here (page 27). The second subject first appears at the Piu mosso section, and Shostakovich brings the two themes together from the last five bars of page 30.

A devil of a fugue

To complete my round up of amazing fugues, we have a truly astonishing fugue contained within a brass band piece by Derek Bourgeois - The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. Composed in 1992 as a test piece for the final of the National Brass Band Championships at the Royal Albert Hall, it builds into a truly virtuosic fugue. This was inspired by Edward Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro for Strings, which includes (in Elgar’s own words) “a devil of a fugue”. The subject Bourgeois writes is one of the most expansive I’ve ever encountered, covering some seven bars and dozens of bustling semiquavers, followed by a tour de force of fugal writing.

The fugue (you can see the score here) begins at bar 119 and it’s still going strong a hundred bars later when Bourgeois brings the subject back in the trombones, tubas and timpani at half speed! The entire work last some 17 minutes and I recommend listening to the whole piece, but if you want to skip straight to the fugue, you’ll find it 5 minutes and 10 seconds into the recording below. Bear in mind that this is a performance by a band of amateur musicians - genuinely awe inspiring!

A surfeit of fugues?

If I haven’t already overwhelmed you with fugues, I have one final recommendation, and that’s an episode of BBC Radio 3’s Early Music Show from 2014 about The Art of Fugue. Presented by the late Lucie Skeaping, it also features Simon Heighes, one of my history of music professors at Trinity College of Music, who talks about this magnum opus in a very informative and user friendly way.

EarlyMusic: Bach's The Art of Fugue 16 Feb 14
BBC Radio 3

I realise this post has been something of a fugal marathon but, as you will now realise, the fugue is an immense subject!

Even if you don’t think you’ll ever listen to fugues purely for pleasure (I know some find them a little too esoteric) I hope I’ve opened your eyes and ears to the special way they organise themes and can create a tremendous sense of excitement and drive. Hopefully you’ll more easily recognise a fugue when you encounter one in future and perhaps appreciate the huge skill required by Bach and other composers to bring the themes together to create a satisfying whole.

Have I missed out a fugue you particularly enjoy? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the topic and perhaps your recommendations from this tremendously broad field - please do leave a comment below to tell us about your favourites!

The Practice Diaries

I’ve written about practising before, but always in a theoretical, didactic way - introducing you to the principles of practising. While conducting a recent orchestra rehearsal we encountered a passage containing some fast moving notes for most of the players. Naturally I encouraged them to practise these bars before our next rehearsal, but I also talked more specifically about how to practise them.

This topic has been uppermost in my mind of late as I’m working towards a concert myself. In one of the pieces we’re going to perform I have a couple of passages which stretch my technique and need some serious tidying before the concert. I’ve been working on this section each day and it occurred to me that you might find it interesting and useful to actually see and hear first hand what I do when I practise. So here we have The Practice Diaries - what may become the first in an occasional series. Using short video clips (most are 2-3 minutes long) I’ll take you along on the journey with me, explaining the process and hopefully you’ll see some progress along the way. The first few videos all come from one practice session, bringing you up to speed on the music I’m learning, plus some insights into what I’ve done so far.

Let’s jump into this warts and all exploration of my practice techniques. It won’t necessarily be pretty, but hopefully seeing my personal failings and successes may inspire you to make some of your own!

What are we practising?

The piece I’m focusing on here is Corelli’s Concerto Grosso Op.6 No.8 - often known as his Christmas Concerto. During the 18th century an alternative edition of it, with the solo violin parts transferred onto recorders, was published by John Walsh, with the advice that it could also be played as a trio sonata. That’s exactly what we’ll be doing - using two recorders, cello and harpsichord.

Day 1 - let’s get started…

Although this is Day 1, I’ve been practising the Corelli for a couple of weeks already, so let me explain my journey to this point. But before that, here’s one passage which particularly needs my attention - the semiquavers from bar 70 to 80. The image below is a snap of my own copy, complete with my pencil markings, which are intended to help me play it better.

Corelli Christmas Concerto, 4th movement - Adagio-Allegro.

Let’s begin with a brief introduction to the music and this new project…

Although I’ve played this piece before, I still need to asses how much work there is to be done, considering one or two small adjustments to make it feel more recorder-friendly…

The next step is to identify where I’m particularly prone to glitches and mistakes. I mark these in my music as a warning, reminding me that I need to concentrate even more in these spots.

Next I explain the way we learn when we practise and what goes on inside our bodies to make sure the work we’ve done stays done!

I wrote another blog post about this topic last year and if you haven’t already read it, I strongly suggest you do. When I learnt all about the magic of myelin it was a real game changer for me - you can read all about it in my blog post here. In these early stages, practising slowly is the best thing you can do, ensuring you’re not learning mistakes into the music.

Do you love your metronome? I love mine!

Used in the right way it can be a fantastic tool, especially when you want to gradually increase the speed of a piece of music. Here I talk about the way I use a metronome when I’m practising.

If you want more metronome top tips why not take a look at my blog post all about this brilliant and much maligned tool?

But how does a metronome help you increase the speed of the music? I have a cunning plan which, with a little patience and persistence, is utterly foolproof - watch it in action here…

Having explained my strategies for the early days of practising a difficult passage, let’s see if the work I did yesterday has stuck, and find out which bits still need some polishing…

If you feel you’re making good progress, a clever way to test this is by making the music even harder. Let’s take a look at my own strategies and how well they can work…

It’s very easy to get caught up in thinking about your fingers, forgetting about all the other things you need to consider at the same time! Here I talk you through some of these:

Have you ever tried practising the music backwards? I did just that and discovered that it can be another really useful strategy!

How long should we practise for and how often? Here I ponder the ins and outs of practice routines. You might be surprised how much you can achieve in a modest amount of time if you practise in the right way.

In today’s practice session I realised that hidden dangers occur when familiar patterns change…

My final snippet from today’s practice session - let’s see how much progress I’ve made…

Now it’s time to go and do some different work - I’ll return in a few days with some more updates and glimpses behind the scenes, warts and all!

Day 2 - more thoughts on alternative fingerings, relaxation and when to feel you’ve really fixed a problem

After a good night’s sleep I’m back on the case, now turning my attention to a different section of the music, shown in the image below. Once again you can see I’ve marked the groups of notes which need my attention.

Corelli Christmas Concerto, 6th movement - Allegro

I started this project to help you with your practice, but looking back at the previous day’s clips I realised they had their uses for me too!

At what point can you say you’ve really mastered a passage? I consider this today and find out if I can put my own advice into practice…

My final thought for today - using smooth or detached articulation.

Day 7 - getting to grips with slurs and changing gear

Five days have passed since I last spoke to you, but I’ve been practising every day, making incremental improvements. Each day new ideas occur to me, so let me explain some of my latest discoveries with you…

We’ll start off by thinking about how I can control the movement of my fingers more effectively while I’m playing slurs.

There comes a point, when practising with a metronome, that a gear change is required. As I’ve gradually increased my speed that moment has arrived - here I talk you through my thought processes on this.

Here we have a fresh scan of my music. Over the days I’ve gradually added a few more markings, to help remind me what I need to think about and where. These include updates on where my metronome practice has got to, and notes about the specific fingers I need to work more efficiently as I play.

My final thought for the day is when you should stop practising. Concentration is a finite resource - knowing when your allocation for the day has run out will help you practise more efficiently and effectively!

Day 12 - playing with other people and trying to overachieve

After a weekend off and a rehearsal with my colleagues I have a much clearer perspective on how successful my practice has been so far…

Playing the music at the right speed is one thing, but it pays to build in a margin for error. Here I look at my aims for the remaining few days before our concert.

Finally, I consider the possibility of making mistakes during the concert - after all, no one is perfect!

The final countdown…

As I publish this post, we have six days left until our concert, but will I be ready for whatever a live performance can throw at me?

I’ve practised in a thoughtful way, taking small steps to work on my weak areas. At no point have I spent more than an hour a day on my practice, but instead I’ve focused the bulk of my attention on the passages that need the most work.

What about the rest of the concert programme?

Alongside the Christmas Concerto I’ve spent shorter periods tidying up the other pieces. It’s rare to perform an entirely new programme in any concert, so many of the other works are ones I’ve played before and know well. I keep these ticking along in parallel with the Corelli, but the good quality practice I’ve done one them in preparation for previous concerts means they don’t need the same quantity of work.

Have you enjoyed this glimpse behind the scenes?

Practice can seem like a dark art. People talk about it a lot, but how often do you get to see and hear exactly how a professional practises?

I hope this look behind the scenes has given you some inspiration for your own practice sessions. Please bear in mind I’m coming to this work as someone who’s spent many years studying; developing my technique and musicianship. Some of the music I find easy may seem like an impossibility for you at the moment, especially if you’re still near the beginning of your recorder journey - please don’t let that put you off. All of the techniques I’ve talked about and demonstrated in these video clips can be modified and used in your own practice sessions. Your tempi may be slower, and your pace of improvement may be more modest, but I absolutely believe that anyone can become a better musician and technician if they practise in the right way.

If you’ve found this video diary helpful, please do let me know by leaving a comment below. Is this something you’d like to see more of? If so, are there specific topics or techniques you’d like help with? I have lots of ideas, but they’ll be so much more meaningful if I know what you’d like help with.

Sounding Pipes, Edition 8

It’s a year or so since I last brought you one of my Sounding Pipes playlists, and during the intervening months I’ve been collecting a myriad of wonderful recordings, played on recorders of all sizes. This eighth edition of Sounding Pipes, focuses on one of our instrument’s superpowers - its infinite flexibility and versatility.

The recorder’s native repertoire stretches for 1000 years, but we do have a missing century and a half - that period from around 1750 to the early twentieth century when orchestras grew ever larger, thus squeezing our relatively quiet instrument into oblivion. During this period other woodwind instruments evolved, with a larger bore and extra keywork to give them added power, a greater range and the ability to easily play chromatic music. The recorder, however, missed out on these innovations and it wasn’t until well into the 20th century that modern makers really began to experiment and expand our instrument’s technical possibilities.

There were of course recorder-like instruments that persisted in particular geographic areas (as you’ll see and hear below), but even these remained fairly true to the way Baroque recorders were voiced. At first glance this lack of evolution may seem a negative thing, but I would argue it’s ultimately worked in our favour. Having too much choice can be a bad thing - one gets paralysed by the endless possibilities. Because we have that historical gap in our instrument’s native repertoire, recorder players have become very good at ‘borrowing’ music and making it our own. Admittedly it’s not possible for every type of music to suit the recorder (anyone fancy Wagner’s Ring Cycle of operas for voices and recorder orchestra?!), but our willingness to try playing unexpected music on recorders has proved surprisingly effective at times. It’s hard to think of another instrument which can play such a wide range of musical styles as effectively as the recorder. For instance, how often do you hear a string quartet playing jazz, or a clarinet choir exploring the medieval stylings of Perotin?

It’s this thought which inspired the collection of music I’ve brought together for you today. Prepare yourself for a smorgasbord of musical styles, from the Medieval to jazz, with forays into Classical opera and lush orchestral Romanticism along the way. I realise not everything will be to your tastes - after all, you can’t please all the people all the time. Hopefully though you may find some unexpected pleasures along the way and I feel sure it’ll broaden your horizons, opening your eyes to even more of the recorder’s possibilities.

Let’s begin by stepping back 700 years to Medieval France….

Guillaume de Machaut - Douce Dame Jolie

Performed by La Morra: Corina Marti (recorder), Michał Gondko (lute), VivaBiancaLuna Biffi (voice, vielle) and Marc Mauillon (voice).

This was one of the most popular songs from 14th century France and here it’s performed on instruments which would have been familiar at the time. Like most popular songs today, the lyrics are written in verses, interspersed with choruses, talking of love - some things remains the same, even after 700 years!

Sweet, lovely lady for God's sake do not think that any has sovereignty over my heart, but you alone.

For always, without treachery cherished have I you, and humbly all the days of my life served without base thoughts. Alas, I am left begging for hope and relief; for my joy is at its end without your compassion.

Sweet, lovely lady....

But your sweet mastery masters my heart so harshly, tormenting it and binding In unbearable love, so that [my heart] desires nothing but to be in your power. And still, your own heart renders it no relief.

Sweet, lovely lady....
And since my malady healed will never be without you, sweet enemy, who takes delight in my torment with clasped hands I beseech your heart, that forgets me, that it mercifully kill me for too long have I languished.

Sweet, lovely lady....

Hildegard of Bingen - O virtus sapientiae

Sophia Schambeck - double recorder

Much is made today of the need for women composers to be more visible - the world of composing has long been dominated by men. But there have always been women who defy this norm, composing music which survives to this day. Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179) is a prime example. A German Benedictine Abess, she was also a polymath, active as a writer, composer, philosopher, mystic, visionary and as a medical writer and practitioner during the Middle Ages. And she did all of this over a long life - 81 years - which would have been exceptional during the 11th century.

Music at this time was simple in form - single melodic lines, or perhaps organum - that’s two lines played in parallel, creating the simplest form of harmony. Here this beautiful melody, O virtus sapientiae, is performed by Sophia Schambeck on a double recorder. With one hand she plays the tune, while the other half of the instrument creates a static accompaniment of drone-like held notes. The result is absolutely mesmeric.

Antonio Vivaldi - Concerto RV580 for 4 recorders, first movement

Recorders: Michael Form, Claudius Kamp, Yi-Chang Liang, HyeonHo Jeon, Baroque Cello: Hyunkun Cho, Harpsichord: Eunji Lee

It’s been said that Antonio Vivaldi composed the same concerto 600 times, but I think that’s more than a little unfair! Granted, there are many works among his output which feel quite similar - hardly surprising for a composer who was so prodigious. But there are some wonderful works of tremendous ingenuity and drama too. This piece comes from a collection of twelve concertos for strings, published in Amsterdam in 1711, titled L’estro armonico - The Harmonic Inspiration. In this volume Vivaldi uses solo instruments in a creative way, with combinations of soloists rather than just a single violinist. In this concerto, No.10, he writes no fewer than four solo violin parts and in this performance they’ve been replaced by four recorders.

One of the challenges of playing music with multiple recorders of the same size is making each voice stand out as an individual. Without the dynamic range of the violin, recorder players have to get creative with articulation instead, using infinitely varied note lengths to create contrast between the lines. This wonderful performance does so beautifully when all four recorders are together, as well as having solo spots featuring each individual player.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Overture to The Marriage of Figaro

Flutes in Situ - Belgian duo Laterna Magica: Nathalie Houtman & Laura Pok - csakans, Thomas Waelbroek - piano.

From the Baroque period, we shift forward into the recorder’s missing century and a composer who wrote some of the most exquisitely perfect music - sadly none of it for our instrument. As I mentioned earlier, recorder-like instruments continued to exist in small pockets throughout the Classical period. One of these was the csakan in Austria and Hungary. Like the recorder, it’s a fipple flute, but usually pitched in A flat and designed as part of a gentleman’s walking stick. A small group of composers (Anton Heberle and Ernst Krähmer being the best known) wrote original music for the instrument, but it wasn’t unusual for performers to use it to play arrangements of popular music from the era.

In this arrangement of the Overture from The Marriage of Figaro, Nathalie Houtman and Laura Pok play two csakans, accompanied by a piano typical of the period. The lighter sound of the piano (compared to modern grand pianos) pairs with the csakans perfectly and it’s such a delight to hear Mozart played in this way.

Gustav Mahler - Symphony No.1, third movement

Hsin-Chu Recorder Orchestra, conducted by Meng-Heng Chen

Mahler isn’t a composer who immediately springs to mind when you think of the recorder, but this is an unexpected arrangement which works surprisingly well. In the third movement of his first Symphony Mahler reuses the familiar children’s song, Frère Jacques, changing the key from major to minor to create a funeral march. Along the way he also incorporates melodies reminiscent of Czech folk songs. Mahler was a master of orchestration, using colourful combinations of instruments, and that’s the one element which inevitably remains absent in a recorder arrangement. The Hsin-Chu Recorder Orchestra add cello and double bass in their performance, and the pizzicato strings sound undoubtedly adds a fresh tone colour. Even if you disagree with the borrowing of music which is so alien to the recorder, I think it’s important to push the boundaries from time to time to explore the almost limitless boundaries of our instrument.

Eugene Magalif - Colibri

Berlin Recorder Orchestra, conducted by Simon Borutzki

Born in Belarus and now living in the USA, Eugene Magalif may be an unfamiliar name, but he has a long track record of composing music for the flute. Colibri (Hummingbird) was originally composed for flute and string orchestra and was crucial in bringing Eugene to the attention of flautist James Galway, with whom he had a long working relationship. Simon Borutzki, the conductor of the Berlin Recorder Orchestra, created this arrangement for recorder orchestra and, listening to this spectacular performance, you’d be hard pushed it realise it’s been borrowed - it first the BRO like a glove.

Eugene writes the following about the piece:

“Hummingbirds migrate annually from Central America to New Jersey for the summer months and then back again, flying thousands of miles. They are the only birds that can move in any direction and hover in the air like bees. There is a family of hummingbirds that return every summer to our backyard, where we put out feeders filled with sweet nectar for them. One day I was sitting on the balcony, talking with professor Oleg Sytianko, from Turku, Finland. He asked me to write something for flute, promising to perform it at the music conservatory. In the same moment, the hummingbirds arrived. Seeing these cheerful little birds, a melody instantly came to mind—a simple melody, but with a special rhythmic pattern.”

Chick Corea - Armando’s Rhumba

Arrangement by Tal Zilber. performed by Tali Rubinstein - recorder and Tal Zilber - piano

My last Score Lines blog introduced you to advice from jazz musician Chick Corea, so when I discovered this phenomenal performance of his music by Tali Rubinstein I just had to include it in my Sounding Pipes playlist. This may have the genes of jazz at its heart, but Tal Zilber also manages to squeeze in snippets of music from Georges Bizet’s Carmen and J.S.Bach’s Badinerie from his second orchestral suite. A musical tour de force!

That concludes my playlist, featuring a tremendous variety of music, covering ten centuries. I can’t think of another instrument which could so effortlessly play all these different styles of music and I hope you’ll agree our lives as recorder players are richer for this. Have I missed out a style of music you might have included? If so, why not leave a comment below and share some of your favourite recorder gems with us?

Advice from beyond the recorder world

Every so often friends send me pieces of writing they think I might appreciate. Two of these struck a particular chord, and I thought I’d share sections of them with you. Chick Corea and Richard Strauss come from very different musical genres, neither of them with any connection to the recorder, but I think their words still have something to teach us.

Cheap but good advice for playing music in a group

This is the title of a list shared with me by Steve Marshall, himself a composer who most recorder players will have encountered at some point. Steve has spent a lot of his life playing jazz, so naturally he would have a greater knowledge of the work of Chick Corea (1941-2021), an American jazz musician, composer and band leader, than I do. Of course, not all of Corea’s advice is applicable to playing the recorder, but these items which particularly jumped out at me as being pertinent to our own music making…

  • Play only what you hear.

  • If you don’t hear anything, don’t play anything.

  • Don’t let your fingers and limbs just wander – place them intentionally.

  • Leave space – create space – intentionally create places where you don’t play.

  • Make your sound blend. Listen to your sound and adjust it to the rest of the band and the room.

  • Don’t make any of your music mechanically or just through patterns of habit. Create each sound, phrase, and piece with choice – deliberately.

  • Guide your choice of what to play by what you like – not by what someone else will think.

  • Use contrast and balance the elements: high/low, fast/slow, loud/soft, tense/relaxed, dense/sparse.

  • Play to make the other musicians sound good. Play things that will make the overall music sound good.

  • Play with a relaxed body. Always release whatever tension you create.

  • Create space – begin, develop, and in for phrases with intention.

  • Never beat or pound your instrument – play it easily and gracefully.

Advice from the conductor’s rostrum

Richard Strauss, painted by Max Liebermann, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Richard Strauss (1864-1949), whose life overlapped with Chick Corea by just eight years, occupies a very different musical style, but like Corea, he was a prolific composer and a musician whose words are still pertinent to the rest of us. This collection of musical advice was sent to me by another composer of recorder music, Michael Graham. Like myself, Michael spends a lot of his time conducting ensembles and orchestras, and he thought I might appreciate Strauss’s Ten Golden Rules for Young Conductors. While some of these comments may not be applicable to you as a recorder player, the humour is undeniable, and yet his words have a lot to teach about making music sympathetically with others.

 
  • Remember that you are making music not to amuse yourself, but to delight your audience.

  • You should not perspire when conducting. Only the audience should get warm.

  • Conduct Salome and Elektra (two of Strauss’s most challenging operas) as if they were by Mendelssohn: Fairy music.

  • Never look encouragingly at the brass, except with a brief glance to give an important cue.

  • But never let the horns and woodwinds out of your sight. If you can hear them at all, they are still too strong.

  • If you think that the brass is now blowing hard enough, tone it down another shade or two.

  • It is not enough that you yourself should hear every word the soloist sings. You should know by heart anyway. The audience must be able to follow without effort. If they do not understand the words, they will go to sleep.

  • Always accompany the singer in such a way that he can sing without effort.

  • When you think you have reached the limits of prestissimo, double the pace.

  • If you follow these rules carefully, you will, with your fine gifts and your great accomplishments, always be the darling of your listeners.

If you’d like to see Strauss’s conducting for yourself, this film from his 1944 recording of his own tone poem, Till Eulenspiegel, makes fascinating viewing. He’s a model of minimalism and economy of movement - something I know I could sometimes learn from!

With that I’ll leave you to ponder the advice of these masters, I’m off to figure out which section of a recorder orchestra is the equivalent of the brass, with whom Strauss evidently had something of a love/hate relationship! Many thanks to Steve and Michael for sharing these gems with me - if you’ve come across useful musical advice from an unlikely place which might help others why not leave a comment below so we can all enjoy it?