Become more present by acknowledging the uncomfortable

Avoiding pain, embarrassment, humiliation. We all do our best to avoid uncomfortable emotions. When we're angry or hurt, we try really hard to get back to a more peaceful state. What would happen if we chose to remain with the painful feelings and acknowledge their presence? What would happen if we realized that we have a say in the matter and that we have an array of possibilities to choose from, rather than the ones that emotion may dictate for us?

Life, with all its twists and turns, can not stay in homeostasis like our biological systems. Life instead seems to have more bad moments than good. Personally, 2012 wasn't a particularly good year but I learned a lot of lessons that I will strive not to forget when the times are good.

What does this have to do with music? The image of the suffering and starving artist is a widespread one in our western culture. We become artists not to make money but to create and move people towards change. Some of the most powerful music has been born from misery.

If you would like to become more present or mindful, accepting rather than fighting what is happening at any given time is a critical skill to develop. The hardest lesson for me in all this has been accepting that while my emotions are real, they do not define me. You can accept difficult situations for what they are, but you can simply notice the emotions they produce. They do not have to control you. Biologically, we feel emotions but research tells us that they take about 90 seconds to pass through the body (if we choose to let them go).

Acknowledge and accept. There are so many ways we can apply this to practice and performance of music.

Here's a way to start in the practice room: when you're having a bad day, it's incredibly difficult to not judge yourself. Any element that isn't going well becomes the focal point of your attention and you gradually pull yourself more and more away from the music itself.

When you notice frustration creeping in, stop and take a moment to notice that frustration and accept it. This doesn't mean that you have to stay with the frustration but instead, you can make a choice about what it is you want to do next. If you choose to stay frustrated, you will choose to remain focused on the element that isn't flowing (such as your tone). Another choice you can make is to step away from the instrument and go do something else for a little while.

Finally, a third choice could be to focus on the wider picture and find something positive in your playing. I can guarantee that you're not going to feel comfortable or even happy about having to play in a frustrated state, but if you choose to not let the frustration control your choices, the negative judgmental voices will dissipate. You may even be able to end the practice session in a productive groove.

Life is all about how we choose to respond to curveballs. Practicing is all about how we choose to respond to our expectations. If we let our emotions control us, choices get made for us. Conscious, mindful decision making can keep us in the game.

Is fear holding you back?

As musicians, overcoming our fears is one of our biggest challenges. Allowing ourselves to become vulnerable vehicles for the music we wish to share is a momentous task, immediately peeling away the layers to expose our truest selves to an audience full of people we may have never met.

After the performance, however, no matter how fearful you were prior to or during it, it's a time of intense exhilaration. You can't wait for the next opportunity to perform. How can we cultivate that fearless feeling in the performance itself and live life as it's meant to be lived?

A few weeks ago, I began reading Madeline Bruser's The Art of Practicing for a second time. This time, I've been able to get through the book much more quickly and it's been a surprise to find that I've absorbed so much of the information in the book and am applying it to my music making. It's such an excellent resource to have, and obviously worth re-reading every now and then.

Near the end of the book, in Chapter 14, Bruser speaks about transforming fear into fearlessness. In the section, she discusses how fear may keep us from discovering a new way of identifying ourselves. 

I took this away - each time I experience self doubt, I am fearful. I'm experiencing fear in the times that I don't feel capable of performing to my fullest potential. Instead of waiting for a "big break" to come, start transforming performances with fearlessness. Don't limit your performance to what fear dictates you can handle.

I know what it feels like to be fearless. My study of Body Mapping and the Alexander Technique has enabled me to slowly integrate a complete mind-body connection into my awareness as I practice and perform. In choosing to live my life with awareness, I am choosing to let go of the fears that can restrain me in performance.

Transforming fear into fearlessness is the first step to performing with freedom and true artistry. As your performances come to life, your confidence will blossom and your identity may shape into something more powerful than you ever thought possible. This will bring more opportunities your way.

We spend so much time seeking validation from external sources that we forget what is possible on our own. When you allow the validation to come from within, the chance of getting that "big break" will become more likely. As with anything in life, end gaining does nothing but cause despair when we get off track. Simply accepting what is and cultivating resiliency will benefit you in many more ways than endless start and stops.

You can transform fear into fearlessness by having the courage to share what is in your heart, enjoying the process and letting go of what you think you should be doing. Instead, live with passion, live with heart and most of all, live with the confidence that you are an artist in the present moment.

In the words of Bruser, "We can keep growing only if we face our fear and dare to step forward through it."

Demystifying movement

Photo: Gwen Vanhee

One of the things I love most about Body Mapping is how it helps demystify the body. Body Mapping within the scope of Andover Educators provides anatomical information that can help musicians discover freedom and joy in their performances. Discussing movement as it relates to music has been an abstract concept for me that, at times, has been difficult to clarify and translate.

Demystifying movement as it relates to performance is simple. How do you move with your instrument? What movement habits do you think you need when you play? How can you change those habits so that you replace your current automatic response with one with a correct body map?

When I realized this simplicity of movement, I was thinking about my hands. How can the structure of my hand maximize musical freedom? I can palpate the joints of my fingers and I can look at my hands as they type these words. I can look at pictures or examine anatomical models. All of these elements can contribute to changing the mental representation I have of my hands in my brain.

When I play my flute, I know from where I move my fingers and that awareness is freedom to engage more deeply in the music. As long as I play with awareness of how my hands are designed, I will play with freedom. This is the demystification of movement that I've been after for a long time. This is only the start, but I'm beginning to realize the simplicity that is there. There isn't some magical formula of movement that will help you play better. It's an ability to keep moving and the ability to bring yourself back to balance.

Pre-conceived notions interfere so easily with what we know. Art mirrors life so much that if we cannot apply what we learn through somatic disciplines to daily life, we are cheating ourselves of additional opportunities to learn more about ourselves. We are practicing every waking hour. We may move differently when we aren't playing our instruments, but we can learn just as much.

Awareness of movement enables us to be close to our art any time we choose.

Journaling to release the artist within

Do you journal? If so, what? Do you write down your personal happenings, your practice sessions or something else entirely? How has it benefited you?

By Ildar Sagdejev via Wikimedia Commons

I think on some level, journaling has become a lost art. If you're active on social media, much of what one posts is screened through a self imposed lens for appropriateness.

This lens has a tendency to be left on and it can become more difficult to examine oneself and process life experiences. Our innermost emotions are veiled even to ourselves. Regular journaling can help you stay in touch with yourself.

I kept a paper journal from ages 12 to 18 then I switched to Livejournal for a period of 4 years. It was a personal journal, and I've downloaded those entries to save along with the ones on paper. Periodically, I enjoy taking a trip down memory lane to see what used to be important to me.

What if we were to keep a musical journal? One that recapped performances and pivotal moments in one's musical development? 

We can use journaling to our musical advantage, too. Recording practice sessions or even performances can help musicians access and pinpoint emotional highlights or practical discoveries that can enhance their artistry.

Since keeping a journal can keep one in touch with their authentic self, doing so with an eye towards the music can help you become a more passionate performer. If we truly know what it is we wish to express and we know ourselves to be capable of delivering with intensity, then a journal can only deepen this expression. We can connect to our audiences more.

In a way, this blog is my musical journal. My posts are often times very personal and revealing. Being able to record my thoughts in this manner not only helps people, but helps me make sense of the thoughts constantly swirling around in my head about music and my own journey.

When you have a solid grasp of your identity, you can express yourself even more powerfully through music. This is the kind of connection audiences crave and it'll make your music stand apart from the rest.

The Individuality of Change

Photo: Alex Barth

We're in the midst of some pretty big changes.

Multiple orchestras across the US are facing huge deficits and are putting the pressure on their musicians to make enormous sacrifices while hoping to preserve the artistic integrity of these organizations. It is not my intent to discuss or debate the current issues, but instead address how individual musicians may respond to these changes.

The future of classical music has been a breeding ground for infighting in the ranks. Gary Sandow's blog eloquently discusses these challenges and reading the comments to his blog posts have expanded my horizons since sometimes, the arguments are ones I haven't necessarily considered. It baffles me how some don't appear to believe that things are shifting, or they believe that we're merely in a chaotic part of the cycle and things will return to "normal" soon enough. I think the concept of normal is changing, and we're beginning to see shifts and artists who are no longer satisfied with what once was.

It's no secret that I've begun creating a new path for myself. I'm shunning the audition circuit and seeking creative freedom. I've never felt happier or more liberated. I'm now able to more easily deal with criticism. Rather than doing what everyone else is doing, I'm doing my own thing. Because I've done so much soul-searching and have arrived at a musical philosophy that works for me, I feel that I'm better able to look at these issues from a balanced mindset since I have no self-preserving interests in the matter. This is what works for me, and this is where the beauty of these changes lies. Musicians will be empowered to begin making individual choices about their careers, and I believe they will become more able to sustain careers while making a living.

Did I see the current lockouts coming? No. I'm not involved in the orchestral world; however, I am a trained musician. I'm aware of how music schools and conservatories place emphasis on orchestral training. When I think back to my college days, I think about all the time I spent working on excerpts. That training took precedence over the various chamber music experiences or solo performances. I trained to become an orchestral musician. I believed for many years that getting into an orchestra was the pinnacle of a serious music career (that, or making it as a soloist...the orchestral career seemed more likely).

Because I was so involved in this training, my ears were closed to pearls of wisdom that I may have received about doing things my own way. It's not like I wasn't interested in entrepreneurial ventures. I even researched taking some business classes, but I wasn't able to enroll in any due to various issues.

We had a "Business of Music" class that was offered for a few semesters but by the time my schedule allowed me to take the course, the person teaching it had moved on to a different school and no one replaced her since it was an elective. More and more schools are adding essential courses to their curriculum to expand students' skill sets, but the question still remains of, "What is academia emphasizing? Are students being encouraged to become free-thinking individuals with creative dreams or are they simply being trained in a system that better fits what used to be?"

I've instead spent my own time expanding my horizons. I knew what my options were and I faced reality. Every musician's circumstances are different; however, one thing remains the same. Every musician must take personal responsibility for their career. We're lucky, you know. We can and should be able to adapt as artists when something happens that knocks us off kilter.

The changes that are coming and that are currently happening will affect everyone individually. I am inclined to believe that funding will begin shifting to smaller groups and individuals. I believe that audiences want to be personally connected to artists and they want to know exactly where their money is going and for what project. Crowd funding successes through platforms like Kickstarter and GoFundMe confirm this. Audiences will have to be cultivated on an individual basis. No audience is the same.

Perhaps the orchestral audience is diminishing, but I don't believe the audience for the larger art form is diminishing. Be brave, be courageous and above all, find your audience. Be creative in your artistic endeavors, but also approach your art with an entrepreneurial mindset. If a concept or idea doesn't work, then try something else.

The shifting winds have the potential to either harm or help the parties involved. I want all the musicians to come through these storms unscathed, but I know that won't be the case.

I'm pretty excited about these changes. If you allow the changes to happen and forget what you thought you knew about classical music, then the future becomes a collective of individual change. Let's keep it going and support each other.

The energetic (and not so energetic) cycle of creativity

by Sean MacEntee

What drives you to create?

I think most of us artistic types find that our creativity is cyclical. Some days (or weeks), we feel "on" and nothing can stop us. At other times, we can only muster the bare minimum required. I think the first step to sustaining these bursts of creativity is to accept that we can't be on all the time. On top of struggling with self-doubt, I think a lot of us struggle with the low weeks when we're merely steeping. By acknowledging the cycle, we can adapt and manage the low points in more healthy ways.

Although my motivation hasn't been lagging this week, my energy certainly has. I'm not quite sure what the culprit is, but I suspect diet and sleep are two factors. Perhaps the stress of the move is finally releasing its hold on me and sucking the energy I have. Just thinking of practicing causes me to yawn profusely and feel about ten times more exhausted. By the time I feel awake enough to even pull my flute out, it's too late at night.

This is the type of cycle I can control. I can eat more cleanly, I can improve my pre-bed routine, I can begin taking supplements, I can sleep less (sleeping more is sometimes not the answer to energy loss). This is when I'm grateful for the mindfulness I've infused into my life through somatics. I can listen to my body and make appropriate changes. Instead of foundering and entering into a negative self-talk cycle, I can instead make mindful changes to see if any of them help my energy levels match my motivation and desire to create.

Accept and acknowledge, but don't surrender. Appreciate the cycle with mindful observation.

Free the arms, free the sound

I began making some discoveries and in turn, deepening my experiential understanding of my arms while at Summerflute. The beauty of Body Mapping is that as you study and integrate the information, you begin to realize how interconnected all the parts of the body are, and inclusive awareness becomes easier and you really begin to understand the concept of gestalt as Barbara Conable calls it in the first hour of What Every Musician Needs to Know about the Body.

I've been thinking a lot about how my tendency to thrust my hips and pelvis forward ("hip magnet") when I bring my flute up is related to my head (A-O joint balance), neck and arms. Earlier this week, while I was letting curiosity guide me, I stumbled upon a discovery about my arm structure that has helped me feel this relationship on a deeper level. For information on the arm structure before you continue reading, read Lea Pearson's Flute Focus article on safeguarding the hands.

I hadn't practiced for a few days, so I came to the flute with low expectations. I wanted to be kind to myself. I played through some warm-ups in The Physical Flute and a few Tone Development through Interpretation melodies, and that was it. I wasn't particularly pleased with my sound, but my goal in the practice session was to find ease. If I didn't sound the way I wanted, what was interfering with my ease? My practice session ended as an open ended question, but I was happy that I let myself accept that time and I was excited to return.

The next day, I came back to the flute with the same patient curiosity. Since I'm in the middle of moving, I had finally moved my large pool noodle up to my music room to pack it with the rest of my gear. I was playing, glanced at it and decided to put it under my left arm and continue playing. There is a lot of space between the upper arm and the rib cage, but often times we flutists minimize the space we have by squeezing the arm into the body.

I chose to explore with the pool noodle to find a place of no work for my arms. The flute weighs so little, yet I struggle to find the place where I can find the greatest freedom. The noodle lets the muscles relax while it takes on the work, and thus helps the muscles of the upper arm relax and open. What happened after this experience was an instant change in my sound. Right away, the sound felt easier when I removed the noodle.

This was a huge discovery for me because I've been having tendinitis symptoms resurface in my right arm. Since I haven't been practicing large amounts recently, I know that stress and excess computer time is playing a large role in the painful inflammation in my right arm; however, since I've been using the noodle, the pain has subsided. Discovering the place of no work in my arms with the pool noodles gives me a method of self care away from the instrument so that I can reprogram the muscles so that they don't engage and overwork as I hold the flute.

The September issue of Yoga Journal also included an article on Down Dog. The article covers the subtle aspects of the pose, and I noted with interest that it began with Child's Pose so that one could first draw awareness to the shoulders. I read the article and decided, "Why not go into child's pose before I begin playing?" Another aspect that resonated with me at Summerflute was the idea of expanding across the back, but it didn't click for me in a way that I could feel. I got into child's pose, and yes, the muscles were tight; however, I held the pose for a few breaths, came up and then played and I had even more freedom in my sound!

Here are a few questions to ask yourself as you begin your practicing and warm up mind, body and instrument:

• Do you find you have a stuffy sound today?
• Have you noticed your arms?
• Are you working too much to hold the flute up?
• Do you feel expansiveness in your back, or does that part of your body feel closed off?
• When you try to picture a part of your body, does it feel blurry or can you clearly define the area?

Here are additional resources to help free your arms:

Lea Pearson's Hooking it Up: Getting Arms Connected
Lea Pearson's Noodle Notes

Free arms are one of the keys to effortless playing, and one of our places of balance is the arm structure suspended over the ribs. I read a lot of material about the body. I know the information intellectually, and I can explain it to others; however, integrating the information into a internal experience is a lifelong process. My account above is a description of a single discovery. As with music, changing my body map is a process grounded in consistency and repeated exposure to the information.

I love being able to reinforce the change with my instrument. If I feel at ease playing, then I know I've just done something right. My body has become my teacher.

Performing from the heart

I had a yard sale on Saturday morning. It gave me the opportunity to spend the entire morning outside and just think. I was grateful for the opportunity because I was able to ponder on this question:

How do we integrate all of the elements we practice and nurture in ourselves into a performance, which is simply a moment in time? 

I want to play freely. I want to have a conversation with my audience. I want to be authentic. But at times, some things holds me back. I feel that I'm not perceived as a "serious" player. I am attempting to build a career on my own terms, and not be accountable to anyone. I cannot control how others perceive my work or my status; however, that doesn't mean I let it get to me on a subconscious level.


These moments of self doubt are thankfully fleeting. For instance, if I was convinced that I had nothing worthwhile to say, this blog wouldn't be in existence. I don't let these moments consume me, but they are a reminder that I have to choose my working relationships carefully. Toxic relationships that are not grounded in honesty, but are instead built on greedy expectations of what the other person can do for them is a recipe that can create self doubt, aggravate symptoms of performance anxiety and make you feel that your work is less valuable.


We all have a need to have supportive relationships. A support network can help you reach your potential and increase your confidence in your abilities. Often times, a lot of the negativity we perceive seeds itself and grows in our own minds. We're less likely to talk about these very human moments with others. Negativity will usually dissipate when exposed to the light; however, when left to simmer unsaid and unexpressed, can be destructive. Supportive relationships can stop these vicious cycles in their tracks. Being able to talk about your self-doubt with those you trust can make it seem less scary, and leaves you better able to begin performing the way you want to.

Also, the more frequently you perform, the easier it will be to integrate all the best aspects of your playing into a cohesive and inclusive performance. Here are a few things that I like to do to ensure that I have the best chances of success when I go on stage:

1) Perform frequently, no matter how small the venue. Take charge of your own opportunities. The more frequently you arrange your own performances and tap into the type of audience you want to build, you'll begin to create a following. And who says a fan base isn't good for developing authenticity?

2) If it's new music you're learning, find smaller performance opportunities that don't have a lot of pressure associated with them. You learn the piece in a new way when you perform it than in the practice room. Familiarize yourself with how it feels to perform the piece and the music takes on new meaning which you'll be better able to communicate the day of the big performance.

3) Play for friends. Invite people over for wine and music. Let them play for you and vice versa. Informal musicales are a great way to spend time with people whose company you enjoy, and also allows you to experiment with your performances in a low pressure environment.

4) Taper your practice to no longer work on details, but to maintain a sense of the whole. See my previous post on practicing like you train.

5) Nurture yourself. Are there toxic influences in your life? Minimize their impact by distancing yourself from the source of the toxicity or eliminating them completely. This can be difficult, but having the supportive relationships in place that I mentioned earlier will help this process.

6) Live life. Don't spend endless hours in the practice room, but socialize with friends, read a book, go to a gallery opening. Do what you love to do. Life allows us to enrich our performances and our artistry. When we live life, we are preparing for performances.

Above all, keep in mind that performing is a moment in time. It could be your most fantastic moment, or it could be an off day when things don't go as planned. Diligence in preparation can help make it your moment, but be gentle to yourself. Prepare confidently and don't compare yourself to others. Part of the joy in performing is what you make it to be. There's only one you in the world, and share that uniqueness with the audience.

Prepare, nurture, integrate, perform. All of these things happen from the heart if we allow it.

Looking inward to capture the joy in music making

The labyrinth at Ghost Ranch, a place for quiet reflection

I have taken up a meditation practice, and I had a delicious experience today. I use the quiet time as a chance to draw inward and be with God. If there's a particular thing that I'm struggling with such as anxiety, I'll form an intention to reflect on as I sit quietly. Just like my Super Efficient Practice Hour, this 20 minutes I devote to solitude leaves me better able to handle the day.

Most of my intentions lately have focused on qualities I feel are lacking when I react to my current situation with fear, anxiety and worry. I have a choice about how to deal with the stress, and I have chosen to deal with it as positively as possible. In my very human moments when I succumb to the negative emotions, I return to how I felt during my meditation and I begin breathing more deeply and the negativity releases its grip on me.

My intention today was "presence." The current situation is teaching my husband and me how to live in the moment. I know that I can only do one thing at a time. Instead of becoming overwhelmed with my endless to do list, I would rather stay focused on the present and give myself manageable tasks that feel like progress is being made.

As I sat, I suddenly realized that this was my time and I should relish it. This realization washed over me and drew me deeper into myself in a way I hadn't experienced before. I don't think I've ever thought about the time I've taken for myself in quite that way. I became involved in the present - I wasn't just trying to be present.

When practicing becomes a chore, we can return to a place and motivate ourselves by giving ourselves a gift of time. That gift allows us to not only refine and improve our technical skill on the instrument, but it makes us better people. The more present we are in our performance, the greater our awareness and it enhances our joy. We enter into a real time conversation with the audience that can't exist if we're worrying about what we just played or the difficult part ahead. This is the essence of inclusive awareness.

I'm starting to realize that this difficult situation I'm in has helped me appreciate this time as an opportunity to begin injecting more humanity into my music. I subscribe to Astrid Baumgardner's newsletter, and she included a fantastic article about ways to manage challenges in her April issue. As I searched for an old email this morning in my inbox, the newsletter appeared in my search results. It was perfectly timed. If you're dealing with a difficult time, personally or professionally, I encourage you to read it and use the action steps to make a plan. Her action steps encourage presence by focusing on the immediate, which helps you to clearly articulate the next step.

The lesson here is no matter external circumstances, free the music within by drawing inward and finding the joy that exists in each moment of your life. What's your story?

Just Play

I played a church gig this morning. The music director and I chose to play arrangements of hymns and spirituals. The "just play" concept that Liisa encouraged at Summerflute hit me like a ton of bricks when I played "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot."

The arrangement was a simple one, but its understated simplicity allowed me to stand out of the way so I could just play. I welcomed this ease into the rest of the music in the service.

Give yourself permission to enjoy this "just play" attitude in all your music. Here's two tunes that I connect to on a deeply personal level that I'll explore this week and in essence create my own Tone Development through Interpretation collection of tunes. Remember that the melodies Moyse included in his book are as much as a part of his musical heritage as the music below is my own. I encourage you to be creative as you creatively explore the music you connect to most in order to integrate that ease and familiarity into unknown pieces.

Enriching your artistry through life experience

Image by Dan Brady

In May, I wrote several blog posts that included my Manifesto, and several more articles about income streams and making your own way as a musician. One idea I wanted to write about never quite made it to the table, so here I am writing about it now. Life experience. I touched briefly on this in this week's earlier post, which got me thinking about it a little more.

When I describe my situation to others, it's humbling to see the scores of others in the position that my husband and I are in. The economy has brought change to lots of people. Some of the change has been positive and at other times negative. My own work has been shaped by a desire to become portable in order to weather the changes that life has brought me at pretty regular intervals of every 2-3 years.

I firmly believe in the new economy, and I believe in the power of individuals to make their own way. With that said, life experience can be a boon to artistic development. If our lives were simple, what depth would our lives have? What depth would our music have? On one hand, I crave simplicity but I know that the painful and uncomfortable times will lead to a greater discovery of who I am and what I'm capable of handling. One could say that I'm in the worst position I've ever been in; however, I also trust that God will never give me more than I can handle.

I'm accepting these changes in the hope that my life will help me develop a deeper appreciation for the music that I'm so passionate about. I am full of gratitude for the music I am able to share with others, gratitude for those who support me and gratitude for even these uncomfortable changes I'm faced with right now. I'm realizing that accepting the painful times enhances artistry in a way that enables the musician to explore the full range of emotions in the music they perform. Love, pain, loss, joy and sorrow. In fact, I have the opportunity to study the human condition from a first hand position.

As I accept my momentary "uncomfortableness," I'm noticing these emotions and what they do. Not only am I opening myself up to possibility, but I am letting my life guide me in my artistic endeavors. Just like the discoveries one makes when studying Body Mapping and realizing that all your "problems" are connected, my life is connected to music. Art is absolutely connected to our lives.

When you enrich your artistry through life experience, you are allowing that experience to connect you personally to your performance. That is one more layer of awareness through which to communicate exactly what you want to your audience. There is music inside every one of us. Allow your life to help transmit it to the world.

Summerflute Thoughts, Part Three

Masterclass with Liisa Ruoho (thanks to Meerenai Shim for taking this photo)

I continued through the week, enjoying the combination of Alexander Technique, Body Mapping and Feldenkrais while preparing for my next performance for Liisa Wednesday afternoon. On Tuesday, I rehearsed with collaborative pianist Yien Wang and WOW! I had chosen to play the 4th movement of the Reinecke Undine Sonata, and this sonata is a a beast for pianists; however, we ran the movement twice and I felt completely at ease with her by the end of the short rehearsal. She was a treat to work with, and I loved watching her perform during the classes and recitals as she has a wonderful ease in her playing.

The fourth movement is the climax of the Undine story. Hilary Bromeisl describes this movement as,

"The finale movement is the most dramatic and incorporates Hulbrand's scolding, Undine's vain pleading, and the anger and revenge of the water spirits. Despite her anguished appeals, Undine must herself be the instrument of Hulbrand's punishment. At the wedding of Hulbrand and Berthalda, Undine sadly appears and gives Hulbrand a kiss that kills him. At the knight's funeral, Undine secretly joins the mourners. She then vanishes and in her place appears a spring of water from which two small streams encircle the new grave. The return of the loving theme used for the love Undine first felt for Hulbrand creates a touching mood to end the sonata."

Having performed the sonata twice in its entirety recently, I felt that I was ready to take the piece to a new level and I was interested to get Liisa's feedback. When I learned this movement, I found the very dramatic nature of the movement caused old patterns of tension to return. My solution at the time was to find the point of least work at all dynamic levels, and play within certain volume ranges in order to approach this piece differently than I may have before. My goal was to find the "Goldilocks Effort" (Kay Hooper's Sensory Tune-ups) for this movement.

In fact, I had chosen not to really practice the movement at all. I wanted to see what emerged and in the rehearsal with Yien, I began experimenting with the sound to express the unfolding drama instead of only dynamics. Interestingly enough, Liisa's suggested the same path I was feeling.


In my second performance of the week, I noticed a new element. Where the Bach had felt small, I felt that I had a hard time trusting enough to give myself completely to the Reinecke. I desperately wanted to experiment, but my efforts fell flat because of a lack of confidence in myself. I was connected to the music and to the audience this time around, but I played it safe.

Liisa's direction was pretty simple. Give yourself completely to the music and all the emotions it expresses. For the fourth movement of the Reinecke, this is a big job and it meant playing a lot louder. If I had taken Liisa's suggestion at face value without any knowledge of my body, I would have simply proceeded to try harder which would have resulted in a lot of muscle tension. Instead, she had not only asked me to play and feel more emotion, but she was essentially having me translate her directions on the spot with her guidance.

Just like in my prior performance, I had changes in my sound happen immediately. I tried a few phrases and although I wasn't attempting to muscle my way through, I did notice a big difference in how I used my whole body.


One of the points Amy touched on through the week in What Every Musician Needs to Know about the Body was the need for translation. When a teacher tells you something, it is your responsibility to translate it onto the instrument. This is where Body Mapping can come in handy, and this is how I was able to apply Liisa's suggestions right away on stage.

For example, say your flute teacher asks you to support the sound more. What does this mean? Traditional pedagogy can sometimes be very vague and when discussing internal aspects of flute playing, students are left to decipher what something like "support" means. This deciphering is otherwise known as translation, and if you can translate musical instruction through the lens of Body Mapping, the results can be very positive and can lead to more expansive, musical playing.

Trust and translation. Two huge lessons all in the span of 25 minutes.

Summerflute Thoughts, Part Two

Liisa Ruoho and Me

I arrived at Summerflute on Monday and jumped right in. I had a private Body Mapping lesson with Amy Likar, who is my sponsoring teacher as I undertake the Andover Educator training. Since she is also a certified Alexander Technique teacher, we did some table work. This put me on the path for greater learning for several reasons.

After having only gotten around 3 hours of sleep the night before and since I had just spent the morning travelling to Georgia from Pennsylvania, my playing was quite disembodied which didn't surprise me at all. I was still carrying an incredible amount of tension in my neck from carrying both laptop and duffel bags. I also had an enormous amount of personal stress to contend with as well, which happened to come spilling out during the lesson. This clearing helped me feel less like 2 persons, and more like myself and ready for the week ahead.

The lesson centered around basic Alexander principles with Amy encouraging my tactile awareness as I laid on the table. She encouraged me to accept what I was feeling and thinking, while tying it to my freedom of choice (inhibition). At the end of the lesson, I played the portion of the Allemande of the Bach Partita again and this time, it felt freer and more like myself.

I feel it's worth mentioning here that since seriously undertaking this work in the past year, I have gone through transition periods where I lose my sound and lose how it feels to play. It's an odd (and sometimes tear inducing) feeling that I have to patiently work through. I was very hopeful that the week would help me return to a new and better place.

Later in the evening, I got my first opportunity to perform in the first masterclass with Liisa Ruoho. I eagerly volunteered to play first since I had gotten such little sleep. I played all of the Allemande for her, and what I noticed most was how small I felt in relation to the hall. The Schwob School of Music at Columbus State University has beautiful performance spaces. Legacy Hall was no exception.

In addition to feeling small, I also felt disconnected from those sitting in the hall. Because I have never performed the Bach and I'm still figuring out what I want to do with it musically, my inclusive awareness was narrowed. I missed several notes because each time I wanted to connect with the audience through visual contact, I would lose my place in the music.

Liisa offered suggestions that provided immediate results. She first had me play the first note of the movement, which is an E2 asking me to play in the space around myself with more space in the mouth and thinking of the space in my nasal cavities to increase resonance with less effort. Listening behind me also helped open up my sound, and I produced a more musical and resonant sound that filled the hall.

From here, she asked me to play leaning against the piano as if I were having a beer and talking with a friend. This time, I really played the Bach like I wanted and was quite surprised. Shifting away from "good flute player" stance and into a relaxed position helped me access the music much easier. Since then, I've returned to this position in practice and while I always return to my regular position, I find that it's easier to access what I want. I like to think of it as a modified monkey (please comment if you don't know what monkey is and would like additional explanation).

Liisa encouraged several of us performers through the week to play with the composer as a partner. This mindset makes something as intimidating as the Bach Partita much more enjoyable to play. Although I wasn't looking forward to playing on the first day knowing how tired I would be, the lesson with Amy and performance for Liisa went hand in hand.


No matter what we're dealing with in our lives, professionally or personally, accepting ourselves and the baggage we carry is essential to performing with freedom and joy. At this point, I'm happily and slowly making my way and I'm happy for the downtime I have as I figure the next level out for myself. While performing is incredibly important to me, I feel that I have nothing to prove to anyone. Was the Monday night performance my best ever? Not in any way, but that was the best I could offer at that moment in time and I accept that.


Even though I didn't feel secure in my initial performance of the Bach, Liisa's teaching instantly inspired and motivated me to jump into the practice room to figure out a solution. My mood lifted as my motivation returned and even though I didn't have much time to practice during the week, I was able to explore enough on my own to keep making discoveries through the week.

In my next post, I'll talk about my second masterclass performance and what the fourth movement of the Reinecke Sonata brought to the surface.

Get your copy of The Musician's Personality here!

Extra, extra! Read all about it!

You can get your copy of The Musician's Personality: How Intention and Free Thinking can shape Artistic Freedom here! 

For a sneak peak, here's the book's preface:

From the beginning, The Sensible Flutist has been about my personal journey. When I began the blog in 2010, I was asking a lot of questions and while I thought I had definitive answers, my perspective has evolved as I’ve sought to find my unique voice and path. My ability to flesh out my thoughts on the blog led to the development of a network of likeminded colleagues on Twitter. Two years later, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting several of these influential people who want to make the world a little bit better by breaking down the barriers present in our art.

The basis of this E-book spans a series of posts I wrote for The Sensible Flutist between June 2010 and August 2011. This book seeks to connect the pieces of my progression. It presents these posts as an expanded guide for you, the reader. For the sake of space, I am not republishing these posts verbatim but I am expanding the ideas as a call to action for my readers. These posts relate as much to my own evolution as a musician as they do to encourage those who may find themselves asking the same questions. If you are struggling to find your individual voice, read on to find out how to balance your education with your free-thinking creative self, the musician’s personality.

If you download the book, please let me know what you think and please spread the word!

Many thanks,

The Sensible Flutist