Removing barriers to musical freedom...with nail polish remover!

I'm on an unending quest to uncover freedom and ease of movement when I play. How do we find the physical and mental freedom to uncover and enjoy musical freedom? This post will recap the latest discovery that I experienced.

I had a COA completed on my flute recently and while the work done was fabulous, the technician took my nail polish off! I had a strip of polish on the barrel and on my headjoint so that I could easily assemble the flute and know that the headjoint was in the correct position. The nail polish was a prop that once removed, moved me along in my discovery process. Initially, I wasn't so happy about this.

Although I know where the headjoint "feels" good and had marked it with the nail polish, I had to experiment a lot with rolling in and out to find the best place for a sound I liked. As I did this, I had good tone days and bad ones. I also noticed some stiffness and tightening in my neck muscles as I experimented but the reason for this wasn't completely clear. I stopped playing each time I noticed my neck stiffening up.

On one particularly good day, I looked in my mirror as I played and noticed that my keys had rolled back and I hadn't even noticed. What element dominated my awareness so much that I wasn't aware of my hands rolling the flute in?

In a recent Body Mapping lesson with Lea Pearson, she noticed that I appeared to be lacking freedom at my A-O joint when I played. For perhaps the first time ever (now that I was aware of it!), I experienced a free A-O joint during that lesson. What I didn't think about at the time was the connection of embouchure to hand position, the source of my latest discovery.

From wikipedia.org

Flutists, like singers, become mesmerized by their sound and a good sound day is fantastic and a bad sound day can make you feel like the world should end. Locking in to the sound and setting to hang on to that sound can create physical changes in the body like muscle tension. It can also diminish our inclusive awareness.

Music is sound, but when we lose awareness of the elements that create the sound, we run into trouble. Our sound is connected to our embouchure which is connected to our hand position. Our entire bodies are connected to the sound. Resonating chambers inside the body (chest, mouth, nasal passages, sinus cavities, etc.) impact a flute's sound just like a singer.

What I experienced in the practice room is locking up even in just one part of the body can impact your sound and cause automatic adjustments to occur (such as rolling the keys in). If we bring the flute to our lips with awareness of the A-O joint and we immediately settle and lock into the sound, we're restricting access to that place of balance and impeding whole body balance.

While the headjoint position felt correct, I was not able to maintain the comfortable angle to produce a good sound across the low, middle and high registers. My hands then became involved in the correction process. Losing freedom at the A-O joint created tension which I was able to feel. My discovery reminded me of how losing awareness of the A-O joint made finding a good sound more difficult. This led to the adjusting which I noticed only when I looked in the mirror.

I am on a mission to find freedom at my A-O joint (and always putting discoveries within the context of the whole). I am reading and researching to find the freedom necessary to connect a free and flexible embouchure to a balanced hand position that supports the flute but also allows me technical facility. Consistent practice is the first step in this process, which I'll write about next.

When you find a good sound, trust it (don't be afraid!). Let awareness of your A-O joint enter into your inclusive attention and let it rest there as part of your sound awareness. Remember that the A-O joint is a place of balance in the body. If we lose awareness or we lock ourselves into a "proper playing position" to keep a good sound, we will go out of balance in other places of the body.

The hands and mouth are two parts of the body flutists may take for granted and link to good sound production, but what would happen if you included them in the whole? Effective practice sessions can help us keep removing the barriers to musical freedom.

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."

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.

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.

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.

The Metronome: to be or not to be?

A simple tweet by Erica Sipes last week, “Something I find myself saying a lot these days: Metronomes are not a substitute for counting out loud. It's that simple.” morphed into a full discussion of how to use the metronome (and how not to use it) that left everyone involved a little smarter and inspired to expand our tweets into a larger commentary.

I thought Erica’s tweet was interesting and responded by asking her about wind and brass players who can’t do this when they’re playing. In my studio, I emphasize the importance of the metronome to my students (especially my younger ones) in order to highlight its purpose as a practice tool in order to help you develop an internal and accurate sense of rhythmic pulse.

I have students that take right to the metronome and those who don’t (and even those who don't take to it still manage to have a decent sense of rhythmic pulse). I had consistent problems with rhythm as a student myself until my 10th grade year of high school. My private teacher made rhythm a math problem, and it all made sense. Students who are strong in math will understand this and will grasp the concept easily, but there are students who will not understand. Describing rhythms and time signatures like a math problem or equation that must be figured out will be as abstract as the abstract music notation system in front of them. So how do we help those students?

When rhythm is a specific issue the student is dealing with, I take away the instrument. Regardless of the issue a student is having with a particular skill or element of a piece, isolating the element and prioritizing and focusing on the issue at hand is essential to mindful practicing in order to fix the problem. For my young students, one of the first ways I teach them to practice is a series of steps for their one line exercises. They first count and clap the passage, then clap alone and then they try the line on their instrument. Another element that I add is to begin having the students extract measures they still have issues with. The more isolated we can make the problem, the easier it will be inserting back into the whole and the student will begin actively listening to themselves and will be able to identify areas that need improvement.

Given that practicing isn’t something that is really taught, it’s my goal as a teacher to change this. I make sure that when I offer suggestions to a student in their lesson that I make clear that I am making helpful practice method suggestions to them. No one is going to learn a piece well by playing it over and over until they have just the notes and rhythms down. What about tempo? What about phrasing? What about the structure? These are all skills students will learn over time if they stay with their instrument, but the metronome gets us back to the foundational building block of rhythm on which these other elements can then be added.

As a teacher, don’t be afraid to not use the metronome. Let the student develop their sense of rhythm naturally and when they’re ready (this was my favorite suggestion from @DLP_DSM (Discover Learn and Play), introduce the metronome back into lessons. If you feel like you can’t do this, read and research (neuroscience research about learning is my favorite reading related to figuring out how to help a student) until you feel you have enough strategies available to be able to help a student develop an internal pulse prior to aligning that natural pulse with a metronome.

Music on the page is a way of organizing various complex elements together in a way that makes sense. The metronome is simply a tool and should not be used as an absolute. Be mindful in your teaching and help your students discover for themselves the power of this tool and how it can help them. Most of all, be patient and give your students the freedom they need to explore and develop into fine musicians.

For those others who were involved in this discussion, please read their pieces below:

Erica Sipes/@ericasipes Bowing to the Mighty Metronome?

Janet Bordeaux/@janetbxyz Metronome: Monster or Friend?

Eugene Cantera/@DLP_DSM #musiced, twitter, and the metronome

Kim Hickey/@hickey_kim Metronome - Friend or Foe?

Engaging the right brain in the practice room

I've been reading and researching this week to begin preparing for my presentation later this year at the National Flute Association's annual convention in Las Vegas. I've started the fleshing out process by reading My Stroke of Insight by Dr. Jill Taylor. This has been a fascinating glimpse inside the mind of a stroke victim. I'm grateful that she made a complete recovery and was able to gift the world with this book.

Prior to reading the book, I haven't really put too much thought into the differences of the left and right hemispheres of the brain. I'm a thinker. I carefully reason, plan and analyze everything I do. Doing something like playing my flute forces me out of my left brain analytical thinking and shifts me into an artistic mode which is right brain driven. But I want to be able to explain what I do so that I can return to that place consistently. That's why I have this blog. I record my experiences which allows me to keep reflecting and thinking.

Perhaps my dominant analytical self is why I suffer from performance anxiety. Reading Taylor's book has made me realize that somatic disciplines like Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais and Body Mapping all help us just be without excess effort. These disciplines help us "step to the right" as Dr. Taylor says and lets our bodies work with our minds in efficient, effective and natural ways.

In my daily practice (or exploration as I've been thinking of it recently), I have been using techniques such as inclusive awareness and constructive rest to keep awareness of my body as I play my instrument. I've also been following guitarist and AT student Patrick Smith's blog as he recounts his experiences in the practice room. It's helpful to see how someone else explores the music and the body in their practice.

Dr. Taylor says to step right away from the mental chatter and away from your ego center in order to be mindful and present. When we're in the practice room, we have to balance our practicing with compassion and non-judgment. We are there to explore and produce a better artistic product than we were could the day before.

When I approach the practice session as a process and not because I have a deadline, I'm happier and more fulfilled with my daily exploration. When the left brain is chattering all sorts of judgmental things at me, I can simply "step to the right" and engage in the music and let it flow through me.

The biggest lesson in all this research so far is the reminder that we have the power to choose at any moment what to do, but more on that later. Happy exploring.

The latest in my journey with managing performance anxiety

I was excited to play as part of Classical Revolution Philadelphia's monthly gig at One Shot Coffee. I've been wanting to hang out with them for a while and this was my first opportunity to come out and meet up with them. I was fortunate to have my husband be able to come so he could film my performance on my iPhone.

This was the result:



I'm OK with this performance, although I didn't feel in complete control and it is why I'm using these types of opportunities to sort out current issues before my Philadelphia and Virginia performances. My experience with performance anxiety has evolved into a delayed response that starts only after I've begun playing. Rather than mental chatter being front and center, it bubbles under the surface. Breathing becomes labored to the point it feels like I'm hyperventilating especially in softer passages.

So I certainly don't think it's a coincidence that I heard Alexander Technique teacher Jessica Wolf mentioned by Keith Underwood in his class I attended last Friday or again in another circle. What I wasn't aware of is her post graduate training course for Alexander teachers titled, The Art of Breathing.

As I reflect on yesterday's performance, I realize even more now that physical and mental stress is affecting my ability to breathe without interference while I'm performing. Essentially, performance anxiety induced tension is interfering with my ability to breathe well. Once I stop playing, muscular tension subsides and my breathing returns to a normal state.

I see improvements in my playing that I'm happy with but I'm on a neverending journey to produce the best musical product that I can. Focusing on one thing alone isn't the solution, but I want to continue bringing awareness to my breathing in my daily practice.

Here's a couple of great articles I've come across recently that have helped put things back in perspective for me so that I don't begin to overthink all the delicate complexities of playing a musical instrument:

Thinking vs Awareness by Jennifer Schneiderman

Frank M Sheldon's thoughts on consequences of End-Gaining

One of the greatest joys of playing music is the lifelong learning that accompanies it. Constantly learning, constantly reflecting, constantly sharing. Here's to the next one.

Cultivating Awareness

Earlier this year, I attended the Andover Educators’ Biennial Conference. It was a life changing experience. I am now proud to announce that I am an Andover Educator Trainee, and I am now studying towards becoming a licensed educator to teach What Every Musician Needs to Know about the Body.

The basis of incorporating an accurate body map into one’s playing is with inclusive awareness. In my own study of Body Mapping since taking a course with Amy Likar in 2004, inclusive awareness well…escaped my awareness. Barbara Conable teaching the first hour of What Every Musician Needs to Know about the Body cleared this up, and the conference then became an exploration of this awareness.

Since the conference, I have been processing and thinking about how to approach my flute with more mindful awareness. Where yoga helps me center my self and connect mind to body, inclusive awareness helps keep all the complex processes that go into playing an instrument in my periphery without losing awareness of the music or my body.

Before the conference, I was mindful about my playing but my mindfulness didn’t transcend my issues with performance anxiety. Although I intellectually knew negative words like “controlling” and “trying” are detrimental, those habits continued to manifest themselves in performances. No matter how often I perform, I still get the adrenaline rush. My heart pounds, my breath becomes shaky, and I become a tense shell of the musician that I am.

In the months since, my awareness has shifted to a mindfulness that doesn’t scan from one part of my body to another and then shifts to a tricky section in the music. It lets everything be without trying or controlling the result. When these moments of true inclusive awareness happen, my heart fills with joy. I get true fulfillment. I listen better, I play better, I embody the music better. Everything is just better.

I am a perfectionist. I’ve liked to deny that for years but the truth is, I am. I procrastinate because nothing I do can ever truly be good enough. Doing things at the last minute and getting less than stellar results means I can blame “being so busy” or “lack of time” for perceived failures.

When it comes to performance anxiety, I believe that inclusive awareness will help me get over the hurdles in ways that I haven’t been able to move past.

Shortly after the conference, I had a two gig day. I played for a church service in the morning and performed on the program of a friend’s studio recital in the afternoon. Playing in church has always been less nerve wracking for me than other scenarios. Perhaps it’s that the congregation is there to worship and I’m enhancing their experience, so not all the attention is on me.

There was a particular scripture read in the service that resonated with me. In Philippians 1:17, it talks about preaching with sincerity. How many of us perform with sincerity, or do we perform purely out of ambition?

Ghost Ranch

I spent a week in August on Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM. Aside from where I grew up in Southwest Virginia, it felt like the most secluded place I had ventured.

It was amazing.

Enveloped in nature and music, I performed for Keith Underwood, had amazing conversations with like minded people (now friends), hiked and ran and ate some great food. The week began with culture shock (4 years stuck on the east coast will do that to you) and by the end of the week, I felt at home and energized.

I had kept hearing about the effects of Ghost Ranch on its visitors, but it sounded a little mumbo jumbo to be honest. I'm a transcendant type but those experiences still sounded too spiritual.

But I understand now. I'm on the path to making some great changes in my playing because of Keith and spending a week mostly disconnected from the daily grind and technology helped release some emotional blocks. My week at Ghost Ranch combined everything I value - music, fitness, transcendence. Instead of having to fight to balance those values as I do in my daily life, they all combined effortlessly there.

On my way back to Albuquerque to fly home, my friend Allie and I stopped in Santa Fe. I was in search of turquoise, but instead I found a great bracelet. The artist who made it said the bird symbolizes independence and free spirit. I wear it as a reminder of my independence as a person and the type of free spirit I want to cultivate in my performances as a musician and artist.



It also serves as a reminder of that week. It was such a transforming experience that I have plans to go back next year if my schedule allows.

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.

Peeling back the Layers

Since I began seriously playing again, I have struggled with performance anxiety in ways that I don't recall ever experiencing. I have read books, talked to my teachers, and sought multiple performance opportunities in order to practice the skill of performing.

But I still feel like I fail. Why?

Interestingly enough, I had an epiphany sitting in my car listening to the radio. P!nk's song, "F'in Perfect," was on and I really started listening to the lyrics. All of a sudden, I realized that the negative performance experiences I had as a child are still affecting me emotionally and psychologically.

On a personal level, you can hide behind a shell of yourself. As a musician and an artist, you must lose that shell. Losing it can induce anxiety and self-doubt. There are different types of performance anxiety as listed in my colleague Marion Harrington's article; however, when I read these, I found that I couldn't exactly define how I suffer.

I began my musical journey as a singer. As a kid, I sang all the time. I would sneak into my brother's room, play a record, and sing along. If I didn't know the words, I made them up (I especially remember "La Bamba").

As I got older, I began singing in public. I could easily get up and sing in front of a church full of people. I was singing because I loved it, and I didn't have any preconceived notions about what I was supposed to do. I didn't start developing preconceived notions until I began entering talent shows at school.

I grew up in rural Southwest Virginia which is very religious. I sang anything my mom could find a taped accompaniment for, which was usually gospel or Christian contemporary music. And that's what I sang for my talent shows. The rejection that I remember most is a school assembly that I sang for. I don't remember the song, but I do remember looking up into the bleachers and seeing a boy mocking me.

I never tied this experience to my flute playing, but I think that it is a factor in how I deal with my anxiety. As I got older, I began burying more of my true self in order to fit in as most of us do. I have an "old soul," and I had only a few close friends. Because I find myself caught in the middle between those my own age and those older than me who I'm closer to in maturity, I have built layers of walls to protect myself from getting hurt in relationships with others.

We all build walls. Breaking them down in order to perform without fear is perhaps the most difficult part of our job.

Ultimately, this realization peeled back one more layer of my psyche to figure out exactly why I get anxious when I perform. My ease as a singer and a natural performer has evolved into a nervous adrenaline rush that affects my entire performance. It has struck at the beginning, in the middle, and sporadically.

How do I start to let go and enjoy the music?

My most recent post (Opening the Heartspace) is a step in the right direction. I actually started writing this post several months ago, but I've been letting it simmer. There was something there that although realizing that my childhood fears have followed me into adulthood, it doesn't explain everything.

There's something more. Perfectionism.

When we're children, we don't try to be perfect. We are able to perform without expectations or pressure. We sing/play/dance simply because we love to do it. Somewhere along the way, we learn that this isn't good enough. We must be perfect. We must please others. And when someone laughs at or mocks you, then you begin avoiding that which used to give you so much joy.

My experiences make me who I am today and I know who I am as a person, but the more I can break down the walls that I have built around myself to protect myself, the more true artistry will emerge in my teaching and on stage.

Here are some resources to help you overcome the "lizard brain" (as Seth Godin puts it):

Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity


Seth Godin's Linchpin

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.

Rethinking the Breath

Flutists are athletes. It isn’t uncommon to see flutists on stage impressing the audience with their huge sound or distracting physical movements as they try to take large enough breaths to sustain the musical phrase. Flute playing can be approached not as a physical task that must be conquered, but instead a physically freeing MUSICAL experience. Play music, not the flute.

Here are a couple of tips to free yourself from the physical ideas of “supporting” and “bracing:”

1) Focus on your spine when inhaling and exhaling the breath. The spine GATHERS on the inhale and LENGTHENS on the exhale. This isn’t how most flutists think about their spine. What happens when you start running out of air? You start squeezing the torso. If you play in opposition to the way your body naturally works, it will be harder to play.

2) Improve the quality of your inhalation. Picture yourself taking a sip of hot cocoa, and how you try to cool the warmth of the drink by sucking air in through your lips. This is how the breath should feel when you inhale. The lungs naturally expand, and energy is conserved because you aren’t forcing air into the belly. Practice this type of inhalation with slow scales such as Taffanel and Gaubert E.J. 4.

3) Tounge position really does matter. Most are taught to keep the tounge low in the mouth to allow the air to move freely. What happens when you place the tounge high, wide, and forward in the mouth and then play? If you do it correctly, you should feel that you use less air to get the volume and quality of sound that you want. Experimenting with this French style of tounge position really gives a remarkable ease to playing extremely soft.

Even if these tips go against all that you have been taught in your studies, experiment. If you struggle with breathing, what if one of these ideas gives you the “a-ha” moment you’ve been desperately looking for? Happy fluting!

Flutronix: Review

Through a chance meeting on myspace, a unique duo was born. Brooklyn based Flutronix is a classically trained pair of outstanding flutists that have made the crossover into a widely appealing electroacoustic fusion. Allison Loggins-Hull and Nathalie Joachim are combining their passion for the flute and composition and forging a new way, creating more accessible pathways for people that may not otherwise know about classical music and engaging new audiences as a result.

I was pleased to receive a copy of their Kickstarter funded debut album. Mesmerized from the onset by the layers of sound in Joachim's piece "Crazy," the album delivers a diversity of styles in each track from electronica to hip-hop to reggae. As a fan of Steve Reich, I particularly enjoyed the loops in "Stacked" which is reminiscent of Reich's "Vermont Counterpoint."

This album was arranged to showcase the duo's multiple influences without tiring the listener. The vocals in "Aware" and "Wander" further showcase the duo's compositional and multimedia abilities to produce two intriguing duets between flute and voice. I also enjoyed the more virtuosic flute pieces, "Bit of Everything" and "Pray." For flutists, the licks sound so familiar (like Taffanel and Gaubert familiar) but made cool by pairing with electronica.

As a classical flutist with a non-musician spouse, I am constantly searching for music that will appeal to my husband while also being able to appreciate it for its artistic value. He enjoyed Flutronix's offerings as did my brother-in-law. I was excited to share this with them if for no other reason than to give them an example of great flute playing within a context they could appreciate.

I hope that Flutronix will continue this project, and that their creativity will inspire others to pursue their unique projects. You can purchase Flutronix's album from their website (http://www.flutronix.com/) in addition to iTunes and Amazon.

Check out these other links:

http://www.facebook.com/flutronix

http://www.wqxr.org/blogs/q2-blog/2010/jun/02/brooklyns-darmstadt-flutronix/

http://www.myspace.com/flutronix

http://www.youtube.com/user/flutronix

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.

Intention and Emotional Inhibitions that affect it

So sorry for the 2 week gap in blogging, but my lone computer began acting up and I was blessed to get another one so soon. So now I have a new computer that I can dedicate exclusively to my online musical activities.


I stirred up an interesting debate among several flutists on Twitter the other morning when I tweeted about a statement I'd heard the night before. I jam with a group of amateur musicians that just love music and come together to improv and play a variety of folk tunes. I enjoy it because it's such a different environment from a professional aspect, which I find refreshing. In a former life, I would have refused to join these people but I now see it as a unique opportunity to play just to have fun with no pressure.


This violinist, who is a music major at a university out west was discussing why she must practice to the group and stated that as you get closer to the "ideal," you're able to play with more freedom. I agree with this statement in the sense that if you obtain a technical mastery over the instrument, you have a greater awareness of what the instrument can do for maximum expressiveness. I disagree with the statement in that there is no one "ideal." We are constantly shaping ourselves as musicians and our musical identity is always a work in progress. In this mixed group of amateurs, the reaction was one of, "Well, what's the ideal?" Even without a strong music background, they already sensed that there is no true ideal.


While jamming that night, I was tired and didn't feel emotionally involved. I still got something out of going; however, I noted the heightened emotional state of the others there. I am a very private person that has a hard time showing emotion to anyone other than my husband. There are certain tunes, especially some Appalachian folk tunes (from my SW Virginia upbringing), that can bring me to tears. Patriotic outpourings of support for members of the military of any type make me cry. But why is it that I have such a hard time expressing myself, whether it be on a personal level or a musical one? Why do I sometimes feel disconnected from the music even though I, as a classically trained flutist, can interpret the music and present it in a neat package?


Because of this observation from the night before, I continued to tweet, "I'm jealous of amateurs that love music so much, they can play with no cares." Yes, they may be blissfully ignorant, but they love it and that's what I strive to preserve in my own music making. I think it's hard as a professional musician to maintain that element. It could be why even though I'm classically trained, I am very interested in branching other to other genres of music such as folk music that I can connect with on a deeper emotional level. Branching into other genres means interacting with musicians that may not have the same background or education that I do, but they do it for the love of it and invest a lot of themselves into their art. Their varied experiences can help me along my musical metamorphosis.


The debate then took this turn towards the question of professional versus amateur, and what we as professionals know versus the ignorance of amateurs. I am a very open minded person when it comes to hearing new ideas. I think that a young, budding professional can watch an amateur and examine why they do what they do and perhaps draw from that. How amateurs connect with music on a purely emotional level is a lesson to be learned for those of us that once felt that same way, and have lost a connection with the music.


As far as this "ideal" this young violinist referred to, what is it? I think as musicians and artists, we should be constantly exploring new ideas in our playing and never stop learning. I believe that our musical lives are cyclical, and that is the one thing I love most about music. With the number of fantastic flutists in the world today, we have a huge abundance of ideas that can keep things fresh for us.


With all these new ideas, we must have a strong sense of who we are musically with mastery of our instruments in order to keep those new ideas from throwing us into confusion. I discussed this in an earlier blog post (http://sensibleflutist.blogspot.com/2010/06/personality-of-musician-deeper-look.html). Open mindedness will keep you from boxing yourself in. Don't be afraid to explore new ideas, and see where they lead you. New ideas will only propel you further in your musical journey, and encourage freedom.

Should we incorporate everything we discover? No. Young students should be given a strong foundational musical education so that they are able to make decisions for themselves as they advance in their studies. These young musicians already love music. They wouldn't be devoting themselves to learning an instrument if that wasn't the case. Hopefully, they have teachers that allow them to creatively explore the limits of their instruments and lead them to perform with freedom and expressiveness.

On a professional level, we shouldn't box ourselves in but allow ourselves freedom. I contribute my own struggles with the difficulty I have displaying my emotions for the world to see. That's an issue in my own performances that I am working through, and which is why a lot of my focus is on this topic at the moment. Allow your students freedom and creativity within an intelligent framework to preserve intention. We flute players must allow musicality and freedom to shape us who we are as musicians, and not who can play the fastest.

Active Breathing

I have just recently began exploring the concept that Nina Perlove discusses in the video above with the help of Dr. Christine Moulton, who teaches at Mansfield University. I had never heard of this way of breathing prior to Dr. Moulton discussing it with me, and I find that this way of breathing is much more natural and frees the sound and the player.

This method of breathing is a little controversial which is why so many of us flutists haven't heard about it. I worked on breathing a lot in college, and exploring this new method has actually improved things in my playing that have always driven me nuts.

I find the concept extremely interesting. I'll post more in the future as I do further research on the topic. For now, enjoy the video and please comment with any thoughts you may have!