Skip to main content

Ending the Slump

This must happen to everyone.  It can’t just be me. 

Throughout January I was getting worse and worse.  And I blamed the reeds, the snow, the busyness, the baby.  But it was just that I was struggling with the oboe.  I practiced every day, but I always felt like I was trying to get back to where I started rather than trying to improve.  Not coincidentally, my reeds got worse and worse.  I had nothing new, and my old ones were aging rapidly.  I gave a recital I wasn’t that proud of, and then bombed an audition that I had really been excited about. 

We started rehearsals last Monday for the Tchaik 4 concert in Northwest Indiana, and I felt lousy.  Killed off two reeds in the first rehearsal, two in the second.  I had only one reed in my whole case that would play all the way through the solo - and it’s not that hard a solo by any stretch.  By the third night, when we played the Schumann Concerto for the first time, I was getting really worried.  Maybe not worried, exactly - angry would describe it better.

Every day I was making extra time for the oboe, and for reeds, at the expense of family time and me time.   I was practicing instead of exercising, and scraping at my desk instead of playing with my awesome daughter and my husband whom I love.  I have been a professional oboist for more than 15 years.  This kind of slump should have stopped happening by now!

To clarify, this was not a reed slump, per se.  It’s easy for an oboist to blame the reeds, because they are so obviously the x factor every day.  Every time I pick up the oboe it feels different, because those little pieces of damp wood that form the interface between me and the instrument change constantly. But I’m used to coping with the normal variations the reeds can dish out.  And used to having to replace them as they wear out, or as the seasons change.  When I have my act together they are not a limitation.  But it’s easy to say, “Oh, what a lousy reed” when I mean, “Boy, I really stink today.” 

And then… it stopped happening.  Between one quintet gig and the next one, 45 minutes later, my slump ended.  I stopped fighting the oboe and started enjoying it.  Music became easy and fun again. 

Some of the reeds in my case woke up to their potential.  I made a few more that worked effortlessly right off the knife.  The Tchaik 4 concert went well.  I’ve pushed the Easy button.  I’m back. 

Do I know what caused the slump?  No.  Do I know what pulled me out?  Also no.  Does this  periodic struggle happen to everyone?  I must admit that I hope so. 

Comments

  1. This is happening to me right now. Im hoping it ends today because i have a concert tomorrow where I have to play the solos in the Bacchanale, Nabucco, and the english horn solo in the Ravel piano concerto. and I have to admit I'm a little scared but I might have finished two good reeds today.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Eek- that's a big program. Good luck - the slumps always end eventually!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

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

Beauty of Sound

In our dress rehearsal Saturday afternoon, the conductor did exactly what I often do to my students - he asked the violins to play more beautifully, and they did.  He didn’t tell them how, or give them a flowery expressive speech, he just asked for more beauty of sound, and they immediately gave it to him.  To a great extent the sound we produce is set, based on our equipment and the shape of our mouths and our bodies - but it can be altered, too.  Adjustments in reeds and instruments can go a long way, but the key change we can make is in our own minds. I don’t know how to explain it physically, but if you determine the sound you want to make you can produce it.  Or at least you can lean in and approach it.  This is something I’ve been paying a lot of attention to lately in my own playing.  As I prepare the Saint-Saëns Sonata to perform on our Oboe Studio Recital (tonight at 7 - details HERE ), my approach is largely about beauty of sound and vibrato....

Breathing and the Brain

I’m working on the Bach E Major Partita, and it’s significantly difficult for me.  Not so much the notes, although E Major is not the most effortless key on the oboe.  Not so much the music-making, although I could work my whole life on solo Bach and never be perfectly satisfied with my choices, because it’s that complex and THAT good.  No, the problem is breathing, and breathing is always a challenging thing for a wind player. Oboists can play long, long phrases with ease. The opening in the reed is so tiny that it really rations the air, so we can play longer lines than any other orchestral wind instrument.  It’s also comparatively easy to circular breathe on the oboe, which means that we can actually take in new air while  playing and maintain an uninterrupted line.  The downside is that an oboist can never fully expel her air through that tiny opening.  We end up with excess carbon dioxide in our lungs, and as we breathe in again the new good air...