I keep looking for something startling to say about the playing of "new music" -- something the readers expect to hear. As I review my experiences of the last dozen or so years, the things that come to mind are the various so-called "new" techniques, about which I wrote in the March, 1978, newsletter: sound effects, maybe a few fingerings that work exactly the same way on any reed, any oboe, for any player in any performance situation, the secret of flutter-tonguing. These are all desirable skills, but the more I think about them the more obvious it becomes that they are not the substance of playing new music. The knowledge and production of, as they are often called, "extended techniques" has only little to do with the successful playing of most contemporary music. It is the full command of basic techniques that is mandatory for an artistic, informed performance of all music, new and old. Let me reflect on one of those basics.
A good bowing technique is absolutely essential to meet the demands of new music. What I mean by a "good bowing technique" is actually a good "blowing" technique -- how one sends the air through the instrument, much the same way that a glass blower sends air through a mass of molten material, directing it into all conceivable shapes--grotesque, jagged, or perfectly smooth and straight, with only a very gentle turn here and there. A good "blowing" technique will include the ability to control volume and speed of air in much the same manner. A flexible, versatile air stream sets the music in motion!
I often recall the many arduous hours Harold Gomberg spent, trying to help me to phrase, or "bow." His insistence on phrasing the simplest musical fragment into an expression of beauty, serene or exciting, was a major factor in helping me to gain the flexibility to "bow" anything--from a single note to a long, complex phrase of any shape, and at any speed or dynamic, varying those components within the gesture, or phrase.
The ability to actually "scale" a scale in intensity and dynamics, is the cornerstone of playing traditional, or tonal, music in the most meaningful manner. The insight necessary to assess the architecture of a phrase, and of a whole movement of a work, and then "extract", through skillful "bowing", "blowing", or "phrasing", the principal and secondary notes, inflecting and directing them, either toward or away from each other, is a technique every wind player must master, not only to play new music, but traditional music as well. Every musical player does this to some degree, often unconsciously. The analytical resources and control necessary to "scale" a series of notes on the page into an eloquent musical expression of sound are indeed infinite.
A common difficulty in playing new music is the inability to recognize the architecture, or design, of a phrase and movement, and then being able to "bow" it intelligently. Very often only one note makes up a musical gesture. One's "bowing" must be able to convey motion and direction, both general and specific-or static suspension. The unfamiliarity with the language of new music, as well as the non-universality of the notation, make it very difficult for many players to do this successfully. Here first-hand contact with the composer is invaluable. My experience has been that composers are able to sing their music; not necessarily with a beautiful sound or absolute pitch, but definitely with the correct phrasing, and this is mainly what the player needs to know. Managing the pitches is a personal instrumental problem. The player's other personal problem is to gain the flexibility and strength to move the air through the instrument in the manner called for by the composer, and, of course, making the reeds which will enable him to accomplish this task. (I will tackle this subject in a subsequent article.)
Julien Balogh's diaphragm exercises have proved invaluable over the years. The countless hours spent disciplining, strengthening, and then "freeing" the "bowing" or "blowing" technique are fundamental to playing a wind instrument. Those who have not worked with the metronome, pulsating in regular progression, the in combination patterns, would do well to do so to help acquire a fluid and strong blowing technique. I found this routine a true yardstick by which to evaluate one's stamina, reed-making, intonation, and embouchure, or "bow hold", as well as a sound basis for effective articulation.
My reference to the diaphragm as a major source of articulation is almost always met with surprise and disbelief. The old theory that the tongue is solely responsible for articulating is usually accepted with unquestioned validity. Yet those who have stood near a fine singer and observed the action of both diaphragm and back muscles will be convinced (or at least curious) that more than the tongue is moving. A first-hand observation of both projection and diction at work cannot be taken too lightly, and is at least worth contemplating.
The wind player must control air speed, pressure, and volume independently, as a string player controls bow pressure and speed independently. Further analogies to the bow can include steady state and pulsating air stream to on-the-string and off-the-string articulations. Attack modes and ways to begin moving the air can be likened to up-bows and down-bows. Visual images are a necessity, I believe, and my earlier reference to the glass blower is simply that he can see what his air is doing.
Only when the wind player's blowing technique is parallel to that of the string player's bowing technique can he or she be the colorful, imaginative player that now-aday's composers (and yesterday's, also) demand .