Skip to main content

Memorizing on the Run

As I'm memorizing for performance there comes a point in my preparation where I just have to live with the music a lot. I use my running for this. I love this technique - I think it has a lot of benefits - and also it's just me using my time as best I can. I never ever have the time to sit down and study the piece off the oboe - and that's not my style anyway. I'm just about at that point with my Ewazen Concerto again. I'll be performing it in September with my pianist during a church service, and then in October with the Quincy Symphony Orchestra.

I find that there are three kinds of memorization and I need all three to feel secure in a performance. This is not remotely scientific, by the way, and I have done no official research on the subject. Firstly there is melodic memory. This happens quickly for me - I can almost always sing large chunks of my pieces even very early in the learning cycle. I can sing at least the main themes immediately, and as I get closer to knowing the piece I can usually sing every note. I may not know what the note is, or which section comes at which point, but I do know the tune.

Muscle memory comes next - the difficult runs, and the long melodic passages get comfortable enough under my fingers that if I turn my brain off I can go long distances through the piece without missing a note. This is an essential part of the process - really note-y passages couldn't happen any other way, I think - but it is not safe to rely on this.

Sometimes when I am driving a familiar route my mind will wander widely and I will still get there. Wake me up and I won't remember any of the details of the last few minutes, but somehow I successfully arrived. I'm sure this happens to other people as well. But just as I can suddenly look around on the interstate and think "Where am I? Did I miss my turn? Am I there?" so it can happen on stage. There's nothing worse than being suddenly cut off from your muscle memory and just hoping that some cue coming up in the music will remind you of what is supposed to happen next. Or worse, missing a note in a run and getting jarred out of your reverie and realizing that you don't know where you are in the middle of a passage. You are supposed to be playing now, but what?

This is why I force myself to memorize the smart way as well. I need to know with my actual intellectual brain what happens next at every moment. I know, and can tell you in words, what note I start on for each passage, and which part of the form it is and in what key. I can tell you how many bars of rest I have. I know the actual note names for any unusual intervals or ones that I might miss. I also make sure I know what my dynamic and phrasing plan is for each passage. Although when I actually perform I go into the zone and just let the music flow through me, I insist on having the safety net of my intellectual memory. That's where the running comes in.

While I'm out for five or six miles, it is easy and pleasant to let my mind wander. When I'm coming up on a performance like this, though, I use the time. My melodic memory and muscle memory are more or less in place by now - I've been practicing for weeks and I performed this concerto about a year and a half ago, so it's not totally unfamiliar.

As I run, I play the piece through in my head with the consistent rhythm of my footfalls. Slowly. One sixteenth note per stride. I finger on my air oboe and I make darn sure that I know what every note is and what I plan to do with it. If my mind wanders, which it often does, I'll "wake up" five minutes later with the movement nearly over. I force myself back to the last section I really remember and go through again, paying real attention. The spots where my mind gets fuzzy are the places I need to work more on when I get home.

This technique has a triple benefit - I am learning the piece, obviously, but also training my mind to staaaaay on task for an extended period. Thirdly, it carries me through long runs - my brain is too busy to be thinking about my physical discomfort, so I just keep running. Hey, fitness AND secure memorization!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Zoe's Musical Beginnings

I've mentioned before that I started out on the piano by figuring out melodies.  Connecting notes and trying to learn how they worked.  I'm fascinated to observe that Zoe's initial approach to the instrument is totally different from mine. She sits at our new piano and plays random notes, and tells us what to feel.  If she is playing slowly then the music is sad, and we should cry. When we are "crying" she either gets up and hugs us so we feel better (so awesome!) or bangs faster, to indicate that the music is now happy and we should dance.  Her other piano game is accompanying herself - she plays "chords" in alternating hands while she "sings" the ABC song or Camptown Races or Sesame Street.  She makes us sing along.  She loves it when we clap at the end.  When I was little I wanted to know how music worked. Although I make my living as a performer now, I learned about the interpersonal aspects of music later.  Her immediate interest is in

Cleaning Your Reeds

Updated: I've posted a video of my plaque cleaning technique HERE ! Oboe reeds are made from organic material, and over time it is inevitable that they will age and change. The first few days of change are usually quite welcome, as you break the reed in by playing and the opening gradually settles down to something you can be comfortable with and the response becomes more and more predictable.  You might even hit a plateau where it appears to be perfectly consistent and reliable for several days! But after that, the reed seems to be on a constant gradually accelerating downslope, until it eventually collapses into a sharp, non-responsive, mushy mess. We can rejuvenate the reed during this time by cleaning it, and can often extend its life as well! There are three good ways to do this. First, least invasively, you can just run some fresh water through and over the reed AFTER you play each time.  Go ahead and rinse that reed in the sink, shake it as dry as possible, and tu

Knife Sharpening

I've gotten a lot of questions on this topic, and the most recent querent prompted me to make a video to demonstrate.  You can find that  HERE . Knife sharpening seems to strike terror into many hearts.  And it's little wonder.  Many famous oboists have gone on record as saying that a sharp knife is the most important aspect of reed making. People have entire systems of stones and strops and rods set up to sharpen their knives. And it is important, of course it is - but I don't believe that you need your knife to be razor-like, or objectively the sharpest blade of any in your home.  The reed knife has one job - scraping cane off in precision ways - and it has to be sharp enough for that, and sharpened optimally for that purpose.  More than that is overly fussy for my taste. This is not to say that I allow my knife to be dull.  A dull knife forces you to put too much pressure on the reed and can cause cracking. Obviously it can lead to terribly inconsistent scraping, an