Skip to main content

Mozart Preparation

I'm working on Mozart this month.

On March 24, I'll be playing the Mozart Oboe Concerto with the Northwest Indiana Symphony.  It's a piece I've performed many times, but it never gets easy. Working on it in my room was feeling more like a chore than a pleasure - all those scales!  All that busywork!

Last week I went in for a lesson with a colleague, which was intensely inspiring, and exactly what I needed. It was a stand-out moment - I've known the Mozart for a long time, but I've been out of the habit of thinking of it as a big deal.  I started at the beginning and immediately she stopped me and demanded MORE.  More energy, more quality, more sparkle, more PLAYING.  We spent two hours working through the entire piece and I was glowing with effort and joy the whole time.  THIS is what working on a concerto is supposed to feel like.

The soloist's job is to be the hero.  To bring the appropriate energy to the piece of music, to set the tone for the orchestra, to fill the hall with sound, emotion, and intensity, and to take the audience on a real journey.

It's a difficult thing to practice, in your own familiar practice room in your own home - or at least it's difficult for me.  So that's been my project this week. I'm honing my interpretations, and working at managing the energy I need - I can't over expend it and run out by the end, but to use less than my potential would be un-heroic.

Specifically, this week I am doing a mental run through of one movement every time I go out for a run. I'm working to be mindful about my musical choices, without overthinking them - because in the moment I still reserve the right to make changes!  I'm doing a physical run through of one movement each day, focusing on being BIGGER in my ideas, my dynamics, my intentions.  I'm making sure that I am using my energy actively throughout each movement and never backing off and "phoning in" the notes.

I'm still a work in progress...

Here's the great Francois Leleux tearing up this piece with the Frankfurt Radio Symphony.




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...

Micro Rests

 For oboists, endurance is a huge problem.  We can play an endlessly long phrase, because of the way the instrument is constructed, but we can really only do that a few times in a row before our embouchure starts to get fatigued.  We develop a buildup of air that feels exhausting to hold onto, and the thought of sustaining that kind of energy over  an entire page of music, much less a 45 minute recital program, is intimidating.    There's almost always a lesson, a week or two before a jury or a recital, where my student comes in and says, "I just can't DO this! I can play every detail in my music, but I can't put the whole thing together!  My mouth comes right off the oboe when I try - I'm going to fall apart in front of the audience, and it's going to be terrible!"  Look, I'm putting this on my students now - but there's a moment a week or so before MY performances that feels exactly the same! I have not outgrown this moment of panic. And at that...