Guest Post: Art in Life is Art

I love music for many reasons, and one of those reasons is the ability for it to inspire relationships.  Relationships among notes, among performers who may be strangers, and relationships among friends.  There are also relationships between the music and the performer.  By living your life, you provide a lens of interpretation that can have a dramatic effect on your music.

I want to talk about my awakening of this belief and how I've applied my life experiences to a specific piece of music.  And then I'll respond to one of Alexis' earlier postings on life experiences affecting performance. 

I need to take you to a spring day in Washington, where I was in a tiny room in an old building for a saxophone lesson.  I had practiced the Karg-Elert Caprice 'X. Cubana' and had just finished playing through the piece.

"Where's the passion?"  My professor, Bob Miller, looked at me with a discerning eye.  I asked,  "What are you talking about?  Do you want more vibrato?"  [Full-disclosure: I was a freshman at this time.]  My professor laughed, or maybe it was closer to a chuckle.  "When I'm playing passionate music, I think of my wife."

He begins to play the etude, but with a soul and feeling that doesn't sound as robotic and MIDI-fied as my rendition.   After a few lines of music, Bob turns to me.  "Playing music is like holding a pretty girl's hand."  And that's when it became one of those defining moments in my musical understanding.

See, in the especially troubling time of adjusting to college life, I hadn't thought about what I was trying to communicate through my music.  I was playing rote and inconsistent because my own thoughts were transitory.  Bob Miller had told me many times that music comes from your head, out of your horn, and back into your head.  It took me a few years to figure out what he was actually saying to me.

You see, I had not thought about art in the sense of a delivery system.  Music provides a tangible format to connect ideas through emotions and experiences we've had in our lives.  In effect, your life experience becomes the engine to the work's vessel.

And this whole concept of creating art as creating a vessel might visually resemble the circle of head-horn-head.  Within this vessel, you provide a means of emotional contextualization for the person experiencing this art.  So Bob wasn't necessarily talking about music ending up in the performer's head, but anyone who happens to be opening up themselves to hear the vessel in the sound is the end result of the circle.

Playing music like holding a pretty girl's hand means to have an intention to believe fully in the act that you're doing.  Our life experiences become powerful tools to invest belief in the music we create as well as the experiences we share with other people.  Sometimes that experience is shared with a particular pretty girl.

Whenever I play 'Cubana' these days, I think of my wonderful girlfriend and I on the streets of Barcelona and all of the smells.  Never before had I been to a country that smelled like Spain did; two parts perfume and flowers to one part food.  Images of the Placa d'Espanya and particularly the awesome Gaudi cathedral come into mind.  With a title like 'Cubana', I'm safe to assume that Karg-Elert wasn't thinking of Barcelona, but the association is so strong with me that it fills my mind whenever I play that piece.  For me, that experience becomes the piece whenever I hear it.

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Now I'll respond to Alexis' post about enriching your art with your life.  Music takes many forms and shapes, and the uniqueness in which we express these forms is what makes our music making beautiful.  Beautiful in this case can mean haunting, exuberant, mystical, crushing, sublime, or any other adjective that could describe the mixture of emotions that we experience as humans.

It's the same concept that great novels employ: give enough detail to the reader to get a general sense contextualization, but leave the larger details up to the reader to fill in.  That ambiguity is powerful for making people connect and believe in the art.  But it starts with a seed based off an idea that the artist had in mind when creating.  As a performer, you're bound to the notes and inherent form of the piece, but you can provide the water that makes the seed of the music bloom to your idea of a plant.

This active enriching requires an awareness of your life and emotions.  The more you open your life to your contextualization of music, the more your music resonates with the experiences you want to share. You've taken the first step towards understanding.  Live your life and enjoy your music and both will be strengthened.

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Jeff Tecca is a saxophonist who studied at Pacific Lutheran University and received a Bachelors of Music in Composition in 2010.  He currently writes for chamber ensembles and K-12 wind bands.  Jeff also plays guitar and bass in his pop band, Paraloco.  He runs a blog about his music at bluecavalier.wordpress.com, his band's blog at paraloco.wordpress.com, and can be reached by email at jefftecca@gmail.com and on twitter at @jtecc.

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.

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

Recapturing the joy in music making

I don't have children of my own but I get to work with children closely as a private flute teacher. I've also taught larger groups of children from ages 5-12.

I love children's natural curiosity and since I'm still a big curious kid myself always asking questions, it bothers me that children nowadays have a tendency to shy away from asking questions. Society in general has shifted from valuing critical thinking to valuing conformity and accepting the filtered information that is fed to us.

My goal as a private teacher is to develop a child's interest in music and help them towards musical independence so that they can nurture and enjoy listening and playing music as a lifelong activity. I don't tell my students everything. I ask them pointed questions until they figure out the answer on their own. It may take longer this way, but I want them to think for themselves. When they arrive at the answer, it's a memorable occasion and the information will more likely stick. They can find joy in learning a new piece of information or a new way to approach and practice a piece. I feel this is my contribution to the world in general if I can encourage my students to think and ask questions.

As adults, we may have trouble retaining the joy in music. Competition, lack of motivation, life in general and other factors slowly degrade our passion from joyous to toiling. How can we prevent this?

I've been reading Rosamund and Benjamin Zander's book "The Art of Possibility: Transforming Personal and Professional Life." Every time I read a chapter, I either find myself excited and my motivation returning or I'm moved to tears by the pure emotional clarity. Adults make things complicated. This book encourages us to remove the blinders of judgment and assumption and just be.

I think the most effective thing we can do to recapture joy in our music making is to find presence in our day to day lives. That presence will transfer to our performances, and we will be happier and more fulfilled. Presence helps us rise above the detail of a piece and helps us find context or the longer line in life. I really didn't understand this concept until I began practicing yoga. Rather than trying to run away from the discomfort of a more challenging yoga pose, I chose to stay with it. Presence is a discipline that can reap many rewards.

Life in general stinks, but we have the possibility to change that today and every day forward. As a musician, I'm incredibly lucky to be able to come to my instrument daily and remind myself of all the good things about life. When you find yourself drifting today, notice what you smell or what you hear. Bring yourself back to the present moment and be grateful. This is the essence of joy.

Karg Elert Caprice #1: Finger breaths and finding your effortless sweet spot

Here is my first podcast! One of the ideas I have toyed with is either live streaming my practice or figuring out a way to share some of my practice time with you to see how I do what I do. I have decided to go the podcasting route because I'm able to play and narrate my session. These episodes will have a stream of consciousness quality to them, so expect lots of "uhhhhs" as I articulate my thoughts.

Inspired by two pianists' work on the web, Erica Sipes and her current Pittsburgh Concerto Competition project and Jocelyn Swigger's Chopin etude podcast series, here is my first episode about the 1st of the 30 Karg-Elert Caprices. Since these studies get more difficult as they progress, I thought this would be a worthy project to take on. I've been wanting to study these in depth, but it's been a stop and go effort on my part. I'm hoping this podcast series will keep me accountable.

In today's episode, I talk about using finger breaths to determine the minimum level of effort you can play with to create dynamic contrast. After I finished recording and listened to my playing, I realized that there's very little contrast in my playing upon this initial performance. Being aware kinesthetically, I felt a difference in effort when I played forte passages compared to piano passages but there was no audible difference. This is something I will practice in not only the Karg Elert but also in my recital program repertoire. My plan is to re-record this first study over the weekend and hopefully have more convincing dynamic contrast.

Also, please check out Sensory Tune-Ups, Kay Hooper's book that I reference. It's a great resource to help you develop multi-sensory awareness and it gives you a place to record your observations as you explore.

Listen to this episode

Part One:"...but I practiced!" A practice strategy for learning a new piece

I have a student (we’ll call them “B”) who has dysgraphia, a learning disability. We have been working together for a year and it has been a very fascinating journey. B’s background is in special education, so I have benefitted from their expertise as I rise to the challenge in order to grow as a teacher and find new ways to teach music to those that process information differently.

Most private music teachers have a few strategies for helping dyslexic students since that "LD" is more common; however, unless the parent and student are up front, it can be difficult to realize you cannot teach in your usual manner with students who seem "lazy" or "don't try hard enough." Unfortunately, sometimes it isn't until the student gives up out of frustration and you feel like you’ve failed as a teacher that we realize missed opportunities. Since private music teachers are in no way trained or ethically able to diagnose a student, we must be patient, armed and ready with a variety of strategies and solutions for each problem that arises in order to customize a student's instruction.

I appreciate B for hanging in there with me. It has been a mutually beneficial path of discovery. Lately, we’ve had a series of lessons where we’ve been discussing practice strategies to help them systematically work on achieving a faster technique and ways to help them learn new repertoire faster. Thanks to a great conversation on twitter*, my own research and input from wonderful collaborative pianist and practice coach Erica Sipes, here is a strategic stepwise plan that I created for B in order to learn a new piece. I wanted to post this online for others that may have trouble seeing the trees for the forest.

What happens when you hit the wall and take longer than everyone else to achieve the same goal? What happens if you cannot use what we typically refer to as chunking (playing groups of notes with pauses in between to allow the brain to process short term information into its long term memory)? Use this practice plan to strategize and increase your chances of success in the practice room if you've tried other ways and they haven't worked so well.

I myself have been inspired to work in this new way especially with music that is out of my comfort zone. Going from larger to smaller details and back again creates a process that encourages confidence in the music.


Start with the big picture:

1) When learning a piece of music, outline the piece to get the big picture before moving on to details. Analyze the piece in order to determine its overall shape, phrase structure, range, key and key changes, and scalar and arpeggiated patterns. If you are able, analyze the piece's chord structure. Listen to the piece at this point to keep the big picture.

2) Play the piece through. Mark places immediately that you know will need attention, but don't get stuck on small mistakes. Stay focused on the big picture in this initial playing.

Begin learning and exploring the finer details of the piece:

3) Learn one musical idea at a time. Too often we get stuck on playing through the material until we feel somewhat comfortable. This way can be time consuming and inefficient. One idea suggested by Erica is to start from the end of the piece and work backwards on one musical idea at a time.

Working within the context of musical ideas versus chunks is one issue that I've encountered in my work with B. Because of the amount of time needed to learn a new piece, a chunk determined by number of notes and not musically becomes ingrained with the break that you take between each chunk. Practicing musical ideas keeps the phrases intact without arbitrary breaks in your final performance.

4) Practice by ear. Work with a recording to learn parts of music that is giving you trouble. I recommend this step especially if you're not a particularly aural person. B is visually dominant, and I suggested this step as a challenge. Practicing this way will help develop your ear and help you tune in to wrong notes and mistakes faster.

5) When you’ve worked through this process, play the piece through to find where you are. Mark any places that are still troublesome and work through the process again until you feel confident of the piece.

Ultimately, I think this process helps those who have trouble processing smaller details. Backwards chunking and practicing by ear for the smaller details help integrate these into the larger picture that you need in order to have a successful performance.

I encourage you to try this for yourself and see what happens. Instead of getting by on innate talent, sometimes a little more focus or discipline is needed in the practice room for the results you want. Stay open to experimenting and adapting the suggested steps in a way that works for you. If you had to adapt any of this to fit your personal needs, I would love to know. Please e-mail me at adelpalazzo (at) gmail.com.

Part Two will be about devising a technique practice strategy. Stay tuned!

*Thank you to my colleagues on twitter for a useful and practical discussion of practice techniques when I asked for advice. Be sure to follow @quartertonality, @TammyEvansYonce, @ericasipes, @AnythingPiano and @hickey_kim!

*Photo credits: Psychologies and Arctangent

Practice with your head, perform from your heart

While I’m trying to separate from my ego (read my previous post here), I’m beginning to answer some of my own questions about how to practice for performance and artistic success.

There’s lot of great resources about practicing, but you are ultimately responsible for integrating what works for you into your performance.

A simple reminder to ourselves should be, “Practice with your head, perform from your heart.”

When I begin feeling like I’m too much in my head during my practice sessions, I tune in to my heart. This is one of the reasons why I have to practice in a room with a view. It helps me stay connected to the outside world plus the natural beauty keeps me refreshed. There’s nothing like nature to get you out of your head and encourage gratitude for the gift you have to share.

We must practice fine, technical details to access a higher artistic level; however, we must also practice finding our heart if we are to play on stage the way we really want to and as well as we know we can. Because practicing is such a solitary activity, we tend to constantly instruct ourselves rather than staying inclusively aware of the music and the body. Humans are not designed to be solitary creatures. Music is one way of staying connected and our practicing should nurture that.

As you practice today, try tuning in to a deeper source beyond your brain’s mental chatter. Whether you go to a spiritual place or visualize an image that you can use to diminish the chatter, use it often. You’ll find that this type of practicing will connect you more with your audience while performing as well as make practicing itself more enjoyable.

Movement in Martinu

I was finally able to spend some quality time with my flute.

In my practice training layout, I had designated that day as a "Whatever" day allowing myself to transition based on what drew me, rather than a prescribed routine of Moyse and scales. I jumped into playing repertoire immediately, which isn't my modus operandi.

Although it takes longer, I've found that giving myself a two to three hour block of time gets me more in a state of flow than if I try to jump into my practice and get it done. Instead, having this block of time lets me rest as I need to while feeling like I'm not pressured for time. This state of flow happened to me as I was practicing the first movement of the Martinu Sonata yesterday, and I stood on the edge of discovering something really truly great about integrating my movement with the music so that the movement frees my body to release the music that is within.

I can't quite describe it yet, but the experience was there. I was grounded, letting the floor support me. And that support resulted in effortless music making. I stopped fighting my body and started letting my body do what it naturally does.

Then I got to the 6/8 section, and I resumed my old movement patterns of tension. But that brief moment of effortless music was enough to motivate me to get through the rest.

It's a process and I'm grateful to be able to start experiencing music in this way now. Through my study of body mapping, Alexander Technique and Feldenkrais, I'm refining my awareness and learning more everyday and those elements are now emerging in my playing.

A side note about my practice routine. If I had used my time yesterday to practice like I usually do, I don't know that I would have ever gotten to the Martinu before I reached my limit. If that had been the case, I wouldn't have had the experience so that's certainly a plus for this practice like you train idea.

Explore your movement. Move purposely, move naturally, and move well.

Here's Dr. Kristen Stoner performing the 1st movement:

What I learned about audience connection from Gallagher

My husband and I started the weekend by going to see Gallagher, a comedian that was popular back in the 80's. My husband was actually the one who introduced me to his comedy several years ago, and we even bought one of his shows on DVD. When I saw that he was going to be in town, I just had to go.

For two hours, we were entertained by a guy that has some brilliant insights that is encased in non-PC humor; however, I was also taken by how he interacted with his audience before the show.

When we entered the theater, my husband exclaimed, "There he is!" Instead of hanging around backstage, Gallagher was milling around the auditorium engaging with members of the audience. He continued this until about 5 minutes before the show, when he yelled out for someone to come introduce him. At this point, it turned into a comedic bit but I loved how there was no formality but just a simple start to the show that didn't take anything away.

In the show, Gallagher didn't pull any punches. Regardless of whether you find his jokes offensive or an accurate commentary of American culture, Gallagher's ability to stand up and say things that are not necessarily politically correct is rare to find in today's society.

This brings me to why these observations were so exciting for me. We in classical music put ourselves on pedestals which generally makes us miserable. We wonder why our audiences are shrinking, or why we're not getting more work.

Gallagher is a master at audience connection. As classical musicians, we don't have to become comedians to connect with our audiences but we can be out in the audience before the show talking to our audience instead of remaining invisible until it's time to play. By treating the audience as a faceless void, our performance anxiety goes through the roof because we're making our performance the first connection. Even if it's an audience that you don't know (Gallagher didn't know the people he was talking to), you already have something in common - you both love music. It means stepping out of your comfort zone, but your satisfaction level will increase.

Gallagher's creativity and courage to speak his mind is something else we can take. Playing chamber and solo music affords us more opportunity to be creative and explore what the composer intended in his or her music. Lately, I've started reconsidering my path of what I should be doing as a musician. I'm not ready to announce these changes publicly, but it's taking a fair amount of courage to derail from the typical musician track and create my own map. Stand up for the music you believe in, and allow your creativity to shine through. People don't want to hear canned music. They come to hear live performance because there's nothing like it...if you are willing to inject humanity in it instead of a unrealistic perfection.

Go and find a few Gallagher DVDs to watch. Or attend a show. Other comedians may do the same thing, but I have a feeling they don't. This was the first stand-up show I have ever attended, but this guy captivated me within my own context of classical music and how different the show was from the usual concerts I go to. And guess what? This guy filled the theater.

Opening the Heartspace

The phrase "opening the heartspace" is one I was first exposed to when I started taking yoga classes over two years ago. At first, I thought it simply meant opening and stretching across the chest; however, this phrase has become more significant to me of late.

This summer, I've been reading The Art of Practicing by Madeline Bruser. A piano teacher and authorized meditation instructor, Bruser explores musical, meditative, and psychological aspects in this book. The ideas of staying inquisitive and opening yourself to what can happen in a practice session are firmly grounded in a pedagogical foundation that allows your mind to connect with your body in a healthy, productive manner.

Shortly after beginning to read this book, I attended the Andover Educators' Biennial Conference and was immersed in five intense days of body mapping. As cliche as it may sound, this conference was a life changing experience. I opted to play in one of the supervised teaching sessions, where I worked with a recently certified educator. The concept of "inclusive awareness" is one that I didn't quite connect with, and it showed in my performance. I was glued to the stand, unaware of anything else around me.

And here we are at the heart (no pun intended) of this post: while opening the heartspace is about sharing love and compassion, opening the heartspace in our music making makes us vulnerable and a more likely vessel for the music to flow through, allowing us to connect with our audience and share in the same experience.

Bruser's book has a anecdote where she had someone outstretch their arms. Their response was fear because they no longer felt safe. Through the study of body mapping and tapping into all my senses to maintain awareness of not only the music but myself, along with reading this book, I feel myself connecting more to my audiences and to my music. This is happening because I'm looking at my audience, I'm connecting my movement to the music, and I'm staying open to the experience, not battling it.

Staying open, staying receptive. There are numerous benefits to remaining inclusively aware, and keeping your heart open. Performance anxiety can be minimized, you can enjoy more of your performance, and you are connected on a more human level to your audience. I read somewhere that if you're only performing to please the heckler in the audience, then you're losing a critical component of yourself...YOU! 99 percent of your audience is there to see you succeed.

How do we stay open? I change my body language. If I'm in the practice room, I outstretch my arms as I were giving the room a big hug. If I'm in public, I mentally picture this action. My arms are suspended over my rib structure, my chest opens, and I feel more comfortable and confident.

Please comment if you have any questions. The more I tune into my body, the more musical answers it has given me. This is the gift that all of us should have.

Personal Music Therapy

For those of you that follow me on twitter and Facebook, you know that my grandmother passed away recently. Even though I had prepared myself for the inevitable, her passing was still painful especially since she was my last living grandparent and she was my favorite.

As I did for both my grandfathers' services, I played my flute. My grandparents were so proud of my accomplishments, and I am so proud of my family's musical heritage.

Because of these past performances, my mother and uncle wanted my brother and I to play what we had already done once before. My grandmother was treated to an encore performance of what my brother and I had played for my paternal grandfather, and what I had played alone for my maternal grandfather. And more so than the times before, playing during my grandmother's funeral service was perhaps the most therapeutic experience I've had in my life.

My brother played on the mandolin that our paternal grandfather (a bluegrass musician himself) left him, handmade in 1997 by a local man. We chose "Amazing Grace," a simple but powerful tune that resonates so well in the hills of Southwest Virginia. Because of our lack of time and the expected yet unexpected timing of my grandmother's passing, we didn't have time to prepare anything else; however, playing with my brother, products of our family's musical influence, I could do nothing else but hug my brother when we finished.

Unlike past services, I had to play again. This time "The Lord's Prayer." I was happy to play unaccompanied because it meant I could let my emotions guide me without straying from the song's intent. Emotionally charged throughout, I was able to stay focused on the task at hand - performing to honor my grandmother's memory.

The climax was the most difficult moment of the song, as I felt a huge swell of emotion within. I was able to finish, and that moment became a lesson in resilience. No matter how low the valley, we all have enough strength to get through the toughest moments. Since I wanted to use my performances to "converse" one last time with my grandmother, I stayed aware of my family to invite them into reflection but I also stayed within myself.

Interestingly, I did not have to cope with any performance anxiety. I want to figure out why this type of emotional performance did not affect me in the same way as my other performances do. Instead, I think I played the most musically I have in quite some time and that gave me peace and helped calm the self-doubt I've been wrestling with recently. It reminded me of all the qualities that my grandmother passed on to me: strength, courage, resilience, compassion.

Moments of grief come and go, but the fact that I was able to perform not once but twice for my Nanny will comfort me for years to come. Being able to play for a relative's funeral is not easy, but the healing benefits are very important in the grieving process.

Shifting the Focus back to Expression and Creativity

I've been having a conversation on Twitter with @MazzaClarinet otherwise known as Marion Harrington, a professional clarinetist and motivational author (http://marionharringtonclarinet.com/). The conversation began as a discussion of the importance of academia on musical interpretation and the positive or negative impact it has on one's natural inclinations and this discussion has transformed into one about the sacrificing of musical expression for technical perfection.

Students that enter college to study music must take an assortment of theory and history lessons in order to develop a framework for them to become better musicians. It's critical to a student's development to have this academic education in order to return to music with a enlightened view of its structure and historical context; however, viewing music in strictly academic terms will render the music void of any expression whatsoever. I discussed this point in an earlier post (http://sensibleflutist.blogspot.com/2010/06/personality-of-musician-deeper-look.html). I would go further than I did in my previous article, and state that having a certain amount of talent paired with a solid musical education will produce a musician with a heightened sensitivity to the music.

From this, the conversation took a turn towards the question of creativity and how so many performances nowadays are technically accurate or "note perfect" but lacking in musical expression. For flutists, the current focus leans toward technical superiority and perfection. My guess is that this focus extends through all woodwinds because of the physically emcompassing requirements of playing a wind instrument. We get so wrapped up in the physical and technical side of playing the instrument that we forget why we committed ourselves to music in the first place. I certainly didn't start playing the flute because I wanted to learn to control my breathing or have fast fingers. I began playing the flute for the expressive powers and potential it holds.

I attended several masterclasses over the summer, and most of the focus was on technical aspects of flute playing. This approach is ingrained in me so much that I find it incredibly difficult to listen to beautiful flute playing without scrutinzing every detail rather than appreciating the beauty; however, by the same token, it's difficult to find recordings that give you a glimpse into the whole package. Encouraging young musicians to attend live performances is one of the most important steps we can take to shift the focus from technical playing to free and creative.

So what other ways can we start changing this focus? We're musicians with a creative urge to find solutions. We are always looking for solutions to improve and do things better. I think that flutists (and any other instrument that falls into this perfection obsessed category) should take the opportunity to listen to vocalists, pianists, and stringed instruments. Attend masterclasses for other instruments than your own - it's eye opening to see how they approach their music. Take the universal musical ideas you learn from them, and apply it within your own playing. Go to solo recitals of other instruments.

Improvisatory exercises are extremely useful when exploring the bounds of your own creative musical expression. When you take away the visual, your heighten your other senses and the music begins to become a natural, non-thinking extension of who you are. I really enjoy attending jazz concerts to see and hear the freedom of these musicians. I strive for the same freedom in my playing. As David Thomas (@DTClarinet) stated on Twitter, playing a piece of music is a "recreative" process, but also takes imagination. I think that pairing the improvisatory freedom of non-thinking with real imagination will increase your control over a piece of music and bring out expressive qualities in your playing that will engage your audience in a real-time narrative.

The beauty of music lies in its ability to engage the entire realm of human emotion, and express happiness, sorrow, anger, tell a narrative or paint a picture. By engaging the self through creative and imaginative self-exploration, we break the mold and become free-thinking, musical individuals.