Skip to main content

Relaxing for Success

I enjoyed our performance of Beethoven's Emperor Piano Concerto Saturday night - our soloist, James Tocco, was lovely and musical and refined, and what I really noticed is how calm he seemed. His body was relaxed, and his face was relaxed, and his fingers flew over the keys with an energy that was all the more impressive coming from such a comfortably poised figure. I certainly don't mean to imply that he was deadpan, or boring - there was plenty of communication in his body language, but very little tension, and it stood out to me because this is something I work on very consciously in my own playing.

I do believe in moving when I perform soloistically, especially in recital or concerto appearances. Meaningful movement helps to confirm my phrasing choices to the audience and to my colleagues, and can really augment a performance. What I try to eliminate, though, is unnecessary motion - mannerisms like toe tapping or arm-flapping - and unnecessary tension, especially in my face and shoulders and legs. These are muscles that do not help me to play the oboe better but just make me look awkward. The more relaxed I can make my non-essential muscles, the more energy I have to devote to what I am doing, which is making music.

In the orchestra, very soloistic physical movements are rarely acceptable, and so when I prepare my week's music or orchestral excerpts (which are usually played behind a screen, at least at first) I make an effort to eliminate extra movement and to listen with my ears "outside my body" to ensure that I'm making the phrases I think I'm making and making them with my sound so no one has to see me to understand them.

Sitting in rehearsal, I frequently do a tension check, especially after solos and difficult passages, to see if I'm carrying unnecessary tightness somewhere. I often can find it in my face and shoulders and legs, and when I consciously relax them everything just feels easier. That quick full-body tension scan is a trick I pulled from the natural childbirth classes we took last year, and it serves me tremendously well in my running, also. I was out on a ten-mile run last weekend, and noticed that as I started to get tired that I could smooth out my stride and drop my shoulders and relax my face (those same three areas, fancy that!) and almost immediately I felt faster and easier.

There's something lovely about the realization that I can draw on a new store of energy right in my own body just by releasing my forehead and calf muscles or dropping my shoulders. Like magic, I feel more able, more confident, and more smooth, even as I look more relaxed and in control.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Blog has MOVED

 Have you been waiting ... and waiting ... and WAITING for a new Prone Oboe post?  Don't wait here anymore!  The blog has moved to https://jennetingle.com/prone-oboe/  and will not be updated here on Blogger anymore.  Please come and check me out there!  I love you all - stay safe out there!  Jennet

How Do You WISH You Could Describe Your Reeds?

In Reed Club last Monday, we took a moment before we started scraping to set some intentions.  We each said one word - an adjective to describe what we WANTED our reeds to be.  An aspirational adjective. Efficient was a word that came up, and Consistent . Dark and Mysterious . Mellow . Predictable .  Trustworthy .  Honest .  BIGGER . Reed affirmations actually felt helpful - both in the moment and in the results we found as we worked.  I don't know why that surprises me - I set intentions at the beginning of the year, at the beginning of the month, at the beginning of a run, in the morning before I work.  I love a good affirmation.  I love WORDS.  But I'd sort of forgotten about the possibility of applying one to the mundane work of reed-making.   You don't have to know exactly how to GET to that result.  But having clarity in your mind about what that result is?  Helps you to stop going down unhelpful rabbit holes...

Don't Wait For It

 Don’t wait for it. The lowest notes on the oboe are notoriously difficult to play. They don’t want to speak, they MIGHT splatter, they are SLOW to respond, they feel flat. And if your instrument is even slightly out of adjustment, they can be even more resistant - sometimes literally impossible. And some students WAIT for that low note to come before they go on, and THIS disrupts the rhythm, the tempo, the flow of the piece, and the musical line they are trying to create.  It distracts the listeners, it throws the ensemble off.  The pianist has to lurch to catch them, the conductor has to stop and yell.   One missed note, or one note that doesn’t quite speak - THAT doesn’t ruin your communication. But the distraction and disruption for both you and your listener that happens when YOU acknowledge the problem, when YOU make us all wait patiently for the response of a low C - that’s when you lose us. I think every low note has three possibilities within it. 1. It ...