There are all sorts of comments you expect to hear after a performance, but I'm pretty sure that "boring" isn't one of them. Despite my years of experience, I still fight the urge to take musical risks with my playing. After all, the safer playing route means fewer missed notes, and in a culture that seems to place a high priority on "passing the test," the safe path to "passing off" each etude probably seems like the logical one. But at what cost? ​It is often an issue in my students' playing, as well, and I have spent hours trying to figure out how I can change this.

I get it. I really do. You want to get better now, right? What does "getting better" really mean? What are your ultimate goals in music? ​There will come a day when technique alone will fall short in satisfying your musical soul, and that strong, passionate feeling deep in your bones needs to be fed regularly to stay healthy. I chose my instrument because it allows me to communicate with my audience in a special way that fits me perfectly. I have played many concerts and recitals where I played trombone well, but the times when I really connected with my audience were the times when I forgot they were there and tapped into the song in my head - and those moments fed my musical soul.

When working with my students, I try to start each lesson with something lyrical, like a Bordogni Vocalise or Cimera Phrasing Study. If a student is nervous or not completely warmed up, the elements of a lyrical etude can help calm the nerves, and serves as a great primer for the rest of the lesson. My students know the drill - I will follow the lyrical etude with three requests: 1. sing through several phrases loudly and proudly, 2. play the mouthpiece without the tongue, glissing between notes, and 3. perform at least a portion of the vocalise again. I have very rarely had a student do these three things and not immediately sound better and feel more confident in their interpretation. Each week, the lightbulb turns on, but at some point over the course of the following week, the light switches off, and has to be turned on again in the following lesson. I am left scratching my head, wondering how I can help remove the switch from this circuit so that the concept of musical dominance over trombone operation becomes hard wired.

​I don't come to this point as a teacher abstractly. I have plenty of experience on the other side of this equation.  For example, a couple of years ago, in the first few minutes of a lesson with a major American symphony trombonist* I was playing - you guessed it - a Bordogni Vocalise. I had played for this gentleman on several occasions, but despite my relative comfort in his presence, I felt the need to impress him with my trombone playing. Sure, there were musical thoughts in my head, but they weren't at the forefront of my mind. I played the entire etude, and felt pretty good about how I had played the trombone. In a gesture that seemed to last for a minute, he looked at me, then looked at the music, deep in thought.

"You played it well...but it was....well, it was boring."

You know that sinking feeling when you realize that you totally missed the point? He was totally right. I had spent so much time trying to play the trombone well that I had forgotten where my focus needed to be - on the music! My trombone operation, no matter how good it might have been, didn't make a bit of difference, because I didn't connect with him through my music making. Needless to say, that moment created a strong priority from that day forward.

Please don't get me wrong. I believe that technique is important. It is vital! We must play the instrument well. We practice for years so that our tools are maintained and ready to be used at our musical discretion, but there has to be a point in the process where the technique becomes secondary to the music. Much like a painter, we need many "brushes" to achieve the nuance of a great painting. So as you sit down for your next practice session, remember what you're trying to say through your instrument.

* = major American symphony trombonist was not named in this blog post, because I didn't ask for permission to use his name before I wrote this post.  :)

This post is for my students at Southeastern Oklahoma State University, but I believe that the materials presented here transcend the city limits of Durant to music students all over.  After some deliberation, I have chosen to pose a series of thought-provoking questions.  Remember - you are all wonderful people, but we all have room for growth!  If you feel that a particular question or statement speaks directly to you, choose to accept it as constructive criticism on your path towards your goals.   Improvement begins in 3.....2....1....

Several months ago, when Dr. Jonathan Gill contacted me about collaborating for the upcoming Big XII Trombone Conference at Texas Tech University, I jumped at the opportunity.  Along with David Begnoche, trombone professor at TCU, we will be closing out the Faculty Showcase on Saturday afternoon at 5:00 PM with the Eight Miniatures by Frigyes Hidas.  While this music is fun to play and listen to, but the real joy comes from playing with such great players.  

Both Jon and Dave are thinking, feeling musicians who have strong opinions (in a good way) about how the music should sound.  When the three of us come together to play, we try different things until a consensus is formed.   The beautiful thing is that sometimes the consensus changes as we continue to work on phrases and refine our interpretation.  I'm really proud of what we've been able to accomplish in a relatively short amount of time!

Regardless of the instrumentation, you will improve rapidly not only from performing music with others, but making decisions about phrasing, articulation, and dynamics will make you a thinking performer who considers everything on the page as well as the things that only come to life when the ink on the page is translated into sound.

If you're "stuck in a rut" and need a little motivation, grab some buddies and start playing together!  I promise you'll love it.  In fact, the more time you spend playing together, the better you will get.  A great new book on practicing together is from my former chamber music coach and Rhythm & Brass trumpeter Wiff Rudd has tons of ideas on how to work together to improve.  Check it out!

2014 is turning out to be a busy, busy year!  The performance calendar begins with a solo engagement with the Symphonic Winds at SOSU in late January, followed by a lecture and performance at the Big 12 Trombone Conference, and a solo recital and masterclass at Ouachita Baptist University in February.  With other recitals and masterclasses currently in planning stages, I am challenged to choose repertoire which will not only keep me engaged as a performer, but also repertoire which the audience will enjoy.

Shortly after accepting my teaching position at SOSU this summer, I saw a video of a trombone quartet written by Frank Gulino, a trombonist and composer based out of the Washington D.C. area.  A friend request and several discussions later, we came to terms on a recital piece commission for trombone and piano.  This vague idea materialized into Southeastern Rhapsody for Trombone and Piano, which will be published by Cimarron Music.  I'm proud of this contribution to the repertoire, and look forward to performing it in the future.

One of the ways that working with Frank is so great is that while he deserves to be fairly compensated for his work, he is flexible, and compensation takes many forms.  Without divulging details, it is just as important for Frank to know that his music is being played as it is to receive financial compensation.  In essence, the more I program and perform Southeastern Rhapsody, he more affordable the commission becomes.

In my last year at Alabama, I approached Derek Holden, a composition student at UA, about writing a piece for unaccompanied trombone.  Derek rolled up his sleeves, got to work, and cranked out three movements of music that took me out of my comfort zone in terms of technique and scope.  The three Humid Aphorisms (Rain Slump, Cicada Kneel and Toward the Shoreline) were born after many hours of inspired, caffeine-fueled writing.

So, here it is.  I feel like I'm 2 for 2 with commissions so far, and this excites me.  I would like to propose a full-blown Trombone Commissioning Project.  No cute or witty names...just straightforward, honest intentions.  Here are the steps, the way I see them:

1. Call for Scores.

This is the easy part for me.  Send me your music!  If you have questions about ranges, technical limits, etc, email me at brucefaske@me.com.

2. Submission Review.

This is the hard part...studying and playing through the submitted music!

3. Discover avenues for performance.

The number of works submitted will determine if a recital of new music can be planned, or if particular submissions can be incorporated into a recital of more traditional repertoire.  I can't guarantee a Carnegie Hall performance, but my performance opportunities will provide you with a chance to have your hard work showcased publicly.

I would love to hear from you!  Drop me an email at brucefaske@me.com if you're interested.

-Bruce

In the final volume of this three part blog post, I will discuss a concept that may seem like a "no brainer" to many, but one that took me a long time to understand and accept.  For years, I considered the process of mastering an instrument to be like a race, with a finish line.

I couldn't have been more wrong!

The best players in the world maintain their positions at the top because they are always working towards a new goal.  While many face physical, emotional or psychological problems along the way, they accept these changes and manage to sound their best well beyond the point when most would put the horn in the case for good.

The lessons I learned after my car crash certainly helped me mature as a player, and in time, I was able to break through to new levels of achievement.  However, the biggest lesson I learned was that more questions and new ideas are waiting just over the next hill if you just keep moving forward.  In short, unlike a race, this journey has no ending...it is a continuum!  This is a good thing.

I was fortunate to have very patient teachers who looked past my stubbornness to see untapped potential just beneath the surface.  I often wonder what might have happened if I had really hung on their every word and done everything they told me to do, every single day.  

While the slow, deliberate path I took to recovery certainly made a difference, realizing two facts helped me make the transition from trombone operator to musician.  

1. My ability to express emotion through music was directly tied to my ability to execute on the instrument.  (my music making was limited by my abilities) 

2. The competitive nature of the musical job market made it necessary to be detail oriented, and barely scratching the surface, which was my M.O. for many years, wasn't going to cut it if I wanted to do this for a living.

Even into my mid twenties, I hadn't completely let go of my old thinking.  While I understood on an intellectual level what was needed to play at my best, I hadn't made the emotional connection needed to really go for it in the right way.  I'm here to tell you that there is hope.  It is never too late, and no matter where you are now, you can become the musician you've always wanted to be.  With the proper perspective and experiences, I found my way, and it is my hope that no matter what struggles you might face, that you might find your way, too.

If I can offer any further words of encouragement or insight, please feel free to contact me here.

DISCLAIMER:  I am NOT a medical doctor.   From time to time, I might offer insight into exercises for good "chop health" as it pertains to the instrument, but nothing I say in this blog should be considered a substitute for a proper medical diagnosis!!!

In my last post, I shared the story of a automobile accident several years ago that threatened my playing future.  In Part Two, I want to discuss how I worked through the challenges and came out on the other side better informed and stronger than I ever was before the accident.  

DISCLAIMER:  I am NOT a medical doctor.   From time to time, I might offer insight into exercises for good "chop health" as it pertains to the instrument, but nothing I say in this blog should be considered a substitute for a proper medical diagnosis!!!

A couple of weeks ago, I officially became a Candidate for the Doctor of Musical Arts degree at the University of Alabama.  This is particularly poignant for me, considering that not too many years ago, I thought I had permanently lost the ability to play the trombone.  My friends know the story of "The Wreck," but few, if any, really know all I went through to find my face again.  The journey itself has done a great deal to help define me as a musician and a man, and if sharing this journey can help one person out there, it's worth sharing.

To set the scene...Y2K was coming, and everyone worried if their computers would stop working at the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2000.  Russian President Boris Yeltsin survived impeachment proceedings and shook up his cabinet, firing his Prime Minister.   It was the summer of Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera, with "Livin la Vida Loca" and "Genie In a Bottle" being played on the radio NON STOP.  Let's go back in time to August 1999.  :)