Articles on The Matery Of Music

Ten Pathways to True Artistry

The View From the Middle

The Power of Love

Choosing the High Road

From Bravura to Integrity

From Good To Great

The Way of the Will


Choosing the High Road
Prominent Horn players help Barry Green find an answers to :
The Mastery of Music


It has been over twenty years since the publication of The Inner Game of Music. The Inner Game concepts were born out of W. Timothy Gallwey’s search for the answer to why he lost a match point at a National Junior Tennis Championship. Since then the Inner Game has become a standard text for understanding the nature of mental interference in the varied arenas of sports, arts, and, more recently, business.


Using Timothy Gallwey’s simple Inner Game techniques of concentration for musicians in the performing arts has been a great experience . This has provided me a transformative opportunity to learn from not only bass players, but from horn players, educators and performers of all instruments, voice, and all types of ensembles, including chamber and popular music.


Several years ago I was sent looking for my own answer to a coaching challenge when my Inner Game techniques fell short. I was truly ‘stumped’ during an Inner Game demonstration with a singer. Like Gallwey missed shot, I left this workshop looking for something ‘beyond.’ The singer demonstrated all that I could ask for. She sang in tune and her technique and diction were excellent. Furthermore, she knew the ‘Inner Game techniques.’ She was able to do virtually everything I asked. Even though she had superb concentration–no nerves -- something was missing. It wasn’t about the music, the command of her voice, or her focus, it was about HER. I thought to myself, "Could it be that she lacked courage, passion, creativity in her expression? I wanted to tell her she needed to live in this world more fully, and to develop her personal life skills so that she has something more interesting to communicate as a musician. But that’s not really Inner Game is it? Can this stuff be taught? Should it be taught? This was the beginning of my four-year search, which resulted in what I believe to be a most important gold mine of knowledge. I am now excited to share it in my new book, called THE MASTERY OF MUSIC, Ten Pathways to True Artistry (publication May '03).


My search was for excellence or perhaps what you might call ‘true mastery.’ What is the difference between the good, the young talent, the competent, and the truly great? Is it something that can be learned by everyone and even taught in our schools or private lessons? I am emphatically and enthusiastically convinced that the answer is YES. Granted, we are not all going to play like Dale Clevenger or Yo-Yo Ma. But we can learn from the pathways that so many great artists have taken and we can develop ourselves in ways that I had not previously thought possible.


Over the past four years I have interviewed over 120 great classical and popular artists, including Dave Brubeck, Frederica von Stade, Joshua Bell, Christopher Parkening, Jeffrey Kahane, Bobby McFerrin, Fred Hersch, Evelyn Glennie, Cleo Laine, Doc Severinsen, Gary Karr, Craig Jessop, and Gunther Schuller. Horn players included: soloist Eric Rusk, Philadelphia Orchestras Adam Unsworth, Chicago Symphony’s Dale Clevenger, Montreal Symphony’s John Zirbel, English virtuoso Michael Thompson, and Houston Symphony’s Principal Bill VerMeulen.
TWO amazing stories unfolded from these interviews. The first thing I observed is that the pursuit of excellence is similar in any human endeavor. Once the question of ‘what was missing’ in the singer was on my mind, I began to notice clues from reading the newspaper and watching the news. A new CEO was hired to rescue a failed computer company. An All-Star baseball player mysteriously died in the prime of his career. A symphony's Executive Director retired and was given a gala farewell. These people were all hired and immortalized or honored, NOT for their accomplishments, but rather for their unique demonstration of the human spirit. They were being extolled for their visions, their PASSION for life and work, their COURAGEOUS pursuit of excellence in the face of difficult obstacles, their sense of HUMOR, their TOLERANCE or ability to get along with others, their talent for COMMUNICATING and INSPIRING others, their HUMILITY, their FOCUS and CONFIDENCE.


Interesting. You spend your entire life chasing one kind of rainbow–learning an instrument, getting a degree, getting a job, being successful, cranking out CD’s, playing in brass or woodwind quintets, and engaging in performance after performance. And yet when it is all over and done, you are remembered more for your smile, your ability to get people to work together, your creativity and courage. Once again: Hmmm.


Think about this for a moment. Are we missing something in our musical training? Are we neglecting to give our students and ourselves the very skills that are truly necessary in order to achieve excellence and respect, and to make a lasting contribution on Earth? Is it possible that just mastering our instruments and our Zen-like states of concentration isn't ALL that is necessary to negotiate some very important things in our life and work? Recognizing this ‘missing link’ was the first inspiration that sent me exploring this fascinating landscape of excellence and artistry. It sent me down a new pathway, filled with questions and curiosity. I then came up with ten ‘Pathways’ that I felt would begin the journey. Soon I realized that the real message of this journey is endless and it doesn’t really stop at these ten qualities. It only begins with ten. There is the expression, "The Joy is in the Journey." This works for me.


The second part of the discovery-journey occurs when we begin to explore these ten qualities of the human spirit as a source or ‘key’ to excellence. Then the best part is yet to come. One of my first interviews was Chicago Symphony Principal horn, Dale Clevinger. I had been exploring COURAGE with musicians whom I felt embodied and specialized in this quality in their work: namely percussionists and horn players. I had my agenda, my points to prove, and my own theories of courage. But Dale told me something different. Observing those treacherous horn solos from my place leading the bass section made me thankful for my little Mahler First solos. But what appeared to be courageous to me, I found was really nothing but joy and love from some horn soloists. While I also found other horn colleagues who have well thought-out theories that make it easier for all musicians to process their greatest fears. Clevenger’s interview started the ball rolling down my path of discovery and exploration. Dale’s willingness to open his heart and soul inspired me to interview numerous other celebrated artists for other chapters who I never dreamed I could approach for interviews. Of the 120 world famous musicians I interviewed you can be proud that I chose to conclude my final chapter on INSPIRATION with Dale’s parting comments. I’ll share those words with you at the end of this article. I owe my horn playing colleagues much gratitude.


While Courage is one of ten pathways to true artistry, each pathway leads us down a rather unpredictable course to new discoveries and Zen-like insights. This is the revealing story of each of the ten journeys. The points of view were so different and engaging that I couldn't sleep after I got off the phone with musicians such as trumpeter Doc Severinsen (CONFIDENCE, From Bravura to Integrity), soloists Joshua Bell and Christopher Parkening (CONCENTRACTION, The Sacred Space of the Zone), composer Libby Larsen (CREATIVITY, The Journey into the Soul), humorist Peter Schickele (FUN, The Joy in Music), soul singer Nnenna Freelon (HUMILITY and EGO, From Fame to Artistry), and hornist Michael Thompson (COURAGE, Choosing the High Road) . We explored ten pathways to artistry from the human spirit. This was my journey.
In the chapter on Courage, I explored this subject with celebrated horn players and percussionists. However in this article I’ll only deal with the contributions from your distinguished horn colleagues.


Courage defined: Choosing the High Road
So what is courage? Courage is not the easiest thing in the world to pin down -- although it's an attribute we can all recognize and admire in others, we may not be feeling particularly brave ourselves at precisely those moments when our friends would say we were being most courageous. From the outside, courage seems to be the opposite of fear. On the inside, it can at times feel like fear itself — and whether our times of fear are courageous or not seems to depend on what we do with them! Courage is far more a matter of carrying on in the face of fear than of not feeling fear in the first place.


I find courage is really a matter of choosing between action and fear. If your desire to make music is strong enough that you will try for it despite your fear of negative consequences should you fail, I call it, "choosing the high road." You might fail, you might miss a note, you might lose your job, but you have consciously decided to go for it. This choice must be made every day.
In music, fortunately, this is a very joyous choice. Many artists who may appear courageous to others, are choosing to go for the beauty of the music and the joy of playing it. Bill VerMeulen, Principal Horn with the Houston Symphony explained:

You come to a fork in the road, and one path leads to anxiety, the other leads to courage. You can allow your mind to think, I hope I don't screw up, just let me hit the right notes, let me not embarrass myself — but even though you hope you don't screw up, it's anxiety, not hope, that you're feeling. Or you can go down the road of courage, you can tell yourself, I'm going to nail this. Just listen to me!


You have a split second right before that horn entrance to make that choice.
We all know music written for the horn can be extremely challenging It is often written in a very high range, where the notes are incredibly close together -- and often played while the other instruments are silent. Composers writing for this treacherous instrument seem to delight in challenging the horn player's range and flexibility! Few people play the horn unless they are prepared to dedicate themselves to its arduous technique: I, and many of my colleagues think these players must have nerves of steel! But they clearly have chosen the joys over the risks, and choose to take this higher path.
Dale Clevenger told me,


The horn has a large range, and the notes get closer as they get to the top of the range. So what. What's the big deal? In this business you just have to have the technique down. I function from the art form -- that's what drives my music making. The reason I play the horn is that I like the sound of the horn. What I do is fun and enjoyable -- and an incredible privilege.
His approach demonstrates the courage to move beyond the traditional fear that comes with technical difficulty


Be Prepared
John Zirbel is the Principal Horn with the Montreal Symphony, and a fine musician admired by his colleagues around the world for his remarkable concentration and musicianship. His story illustrates exceptionally well the fact that "courage" may not feel like anything special or brave, but more a matter of being prepared.


John remembers feeling all the symptoms of stage fright on one particular occasion when he knew he wasn't properly prepared to play. In John’s opinion, it takes real courage to play when you know you DON’T know your part or when you're simply not ready. When he is prepared, and knows what he has to do, playing doesn't require any special fearlessness or courage. But if he is ever unprepared….


I played in a youth orchestra while I was in high school, and one time I had to play those famous high notes for horn in the Dvorak New World Symphony. It was very scary for me because I didn’t think I could do the job well. I could only pull that passage off one time out of ten in practice -- so I was scared before I began. That performance took real courage.


I don't have to deal with that kind of fear now because I know the tricks. Worrying about whether or not I'll play well can be very stressful, but it is just not such a big issue. The real fear in my case is about not being ready. And there is a huge difference between worrying that you may not be playing well, and worrying that you won't be able to play the passage at all….
When you doubt you have the skills or haven’t properly prepared, you are in a way consciously choosing to fail. This is really choosing the low road. Rather than calling this courage, I’d call it foolishness.


No Mistakes!
The celebrated English horn soloist Michael Thompson told me that one way to handle fear is to make light of the danger::


Just the other night my son who is a teenager and plays the horn was going to play a solo piece at school. He was looking a bit tense. So I said to him: "Now don’t forget, whatever you do don’t make ANY MISTAKE -- because if you make a mistake, your trousers will just fall around your ankles immediately!!"


Michael also reminded me that even when you are prepared with your music, you can still experience terror on the stand because of non-musical factors. He said making sure you are changed into the concert clothes in plenty of time and being relaxed before you play are as big a part of your preparations as having practiced and learn your music.


I’ve tried to think over the years the things that unsettle me. Being taken by surprise is difficult. I don’t get myself into bad situations. If I am playing in an unusual venue, then I get there in advance so I have time to warm up. Being polite and talking to people before a concert is fine but I would actually say, "You will have to excuse me, I have to have some time to myself now." In the past I wouldn’t say that. I would have tea and conversations just before the moment when I have to sit down and play. If I anticipate in my mind the kind of pressure I will be under, then when it comes to the reality of it, it is almost like I’ve lived through it already. If I don’t even think about it until I walk out on stage, I wonder what am I doing in front of all these people.


Michael is clearly telling us to keep the choice of the high road at the front of our attention. It is easy to get distracted or doubtful, and forget the real purpose of playing music.


Reminding Yourself What Brought You to This Moment
Dale Clevenger remembers feeling unprepared for the physical pressure of playing his first big concert with the Chicago Symphony in New York's Carnegie Hall. The Carnegie Hall appearance was to be the final concert in a month-long tour and it was to conclude with the Ravel Piano Concerto in G -- one of the most celebrated and difficult horn solos in the classical repertoire.
Dale had played the piece perhaps as many as forty times in his previous job with the Kansas City Philharmonic, but this was something else. He said he doesn’t have a special horn with a custom mouthpiece for playing high notes so he just plays the solo on his regular horn. But this time it was more difficult. He had played in Carnegie Hall before, but the combination of playing in his hometown, as the new Principal Horn with the Chicago Symphony, and with this particular piece — let's just say it was different.


Things didn't go too well in rehearsal. I thought about it, and realized it was a combination of instrumental and musical factors. I said to myself, I've done this before, I know I've done this. This is my orchestra, the Chicago Symphony, in my home town, New York, in Carnegie hall, and I've played here before, and I have played this piece many, many times. I know I can do it, because I have done it all before. So I started in, and when I got to the high 'F' I told myself, Sing -- sing it with all your heart. Whatever comes out, just go with it!


My heart was racing faster than it has at any time in my career before or since -- but I played the Ravel part well that night.


Dale flicked a switch in his head, remembered the past success that had gotten him there —and took the positive fork in the road, as Bill VerMeulen would say. He put himself into a state of intense concentration on what he wished to express musically, instead of allowing all the what ifs and thoughts of failure to take over the show. He chose the high road.


Dale has never played a piece perfectly in his life. He thinks being honest with himself in his self-assessment is very important: he is a human being, therefore he is capable of making mistakes. Even if he gets all the notes, even on those wonderful occasions when everything comes together, he still feels his music making isn't perfect…


Yet here's the paradox:

I have this philosophy I can do no wrong. My friends feel everything I do is like I'm walking on air and when I play well, they love it. I was given the gift of a love of music and a certain talent on this instrument. It makes me happy when I play, and it pleases the audience too. Even when I don't play so well, my enemies love it -- so how can I lose?

Courage in Life
The horn sections demand strong personalities and the ability to refocus attention, under what may feel like immense pressure from within or outside. I find this character and attitude among my horn friends refreshing, inspiring -- and worthy of emulation by other instrumental colleagues, as well as those outside the profession. So I was not altogether surprised to find out that many of these individuals also have hobbies which match the courageous characteristic I have come to associate with their instruments.


Playing with the Sun Valley Idaho Summer Symphony, I noticed an interest in all things athletic not only among members of the horn section, but also their brass colleagues who played trumpet and trombone. They were runners, mountain climbers, rafters, and bikers! At one point the horn players invited me to jump off a ski mountain with them in a para-glider. I was just about to overcome my fear when I saw the insurance-waiver forms! I chickened out -- but they didn't.


So it wasn't difficult to find another horn player, Adam Unsworth with the Philadelphia Orchestra, to talk to me about his own favorite athletic interest -- marathon running. I learned that Adam runs marathons both for the thrill of competitive running itself, and also for the positive impact it has on his work as a horn player. Adam is an outstanding runner, and places well towards the front in most of the races he enters.


I asked him about the relation between his running and his music:


I don't run to finish a race so much as to push myself faster. Many people don't ever reach their aerobic capacity. Running forces you to do that, but in a relaxed way -- and short, hyperventilating breathing just isn't possible.


Now when I'm playing under stress, I am able to quiet my breathing down to a relaxed and steady rhythm, slow my heart beat down, and play better.


CHANNELING YOUR COURAGE
In order to tap into our own courage, it’s important to understand how our bodies react to stress. The body, in a state of stress, releases adrenaline. Most us have heard stories about an eighty-year-old woman who needed to rescue her grandchild from under the wheels of a car, and suddenly found the strength to lift the car up off the child. Perhaps you have heard, too, of the flight or fight response which kicks in when we sense danger, sending super-charged energy to the body so we can do battle with tigers — or flee from them when discretion is the better part of valor.


The fight and flight response was designed originally to help us cope with the very real dangers of life in a world of predators and competitors, when running away from a rattler, bear, wolf or jaguar was as commonplace as escaping the wrath of one's boss or conductor today. And even though it's not generally practical to fight the conductor or flee the orchestra, our bodies still release that same rush of energy in times of excitement or fear — perhaps when we're playing a solo, or taking an audition.


The dynamic horn soloist Eric Ruske described the positive side of adrenaline to me. He said,


Some of us like going to horror movies, some like to swim out too far in the ocean, and I know I get my own adrenaline highs from playing with my kids — but whatever your way of getting there, it's great to be able to get that burst of high energy. I love it.
When you walk onstage, that same nervous feeling is a great thing. If I walk out on stage and I'm not nervous, I realize something has to change, something is wrong.

Everyone agrees that there will be times when adrenaline floods your system. The most important thing is to have thought about it ahead of time. Do you have a plan for coping with the extra energy? Are you going to use it? Are you going to ignore or suppress it? Or will you allow it to keep you from passing though the barrier of your own fears?


For some people, courage is a non-issue; perhaps what they need most is not courage so much as encouragement in their love of music, reminder of their original purpose and joy in choosing to make music or to strengthen their conviction about what they are playing. At other times, however, we all need to address self doubt and other mental distractions, stage fright and fear and the rush of adrenaline — and finding the courage and commitment to do what is called for.


Courage Enriches the Soul
Our journey, then, is to take a fresh look at these ten pathways to artistry, which can be found in the human spirit, and which I feel passionately can contribute to the mastery of music. This list begins with courage explored in this article and continues with nine other pathways of communication, confidence, concentration, humility and ego, discipline, joy, tolerance, passion and creativity. But I encourage you to continue through your own discovery of even more pathways to artistry. A true exploration of The Mastery of Music reveals that there is much more to learn than what appears on the surface. The process itself is endless, but within this journey lies all the marvels of discovery, spontaneity, guidance, and wisdom. What is most important is that we take up the challenge and grow and develop these qualities in our lives.


I hope that choosing the high road of courage has been becoming more of an option for you as you have read this article. Being prepared with this noble strategy will save time when the decision has to be made and minimize the choice to one of preparation, determination, sincerity, and most important love of music, Dale Clevenger expresses his own love and dedication in such inspiring words that I would like to end this article with these remarks of his:


What happens in music is that composers are given the talent to write music, and we performers are given the talent to recreate it. When we do this, we make people happy! So you see, while I happen to get paid for what I'm doing, I also love it.


I had open-heart surgery for a heart murmur not so long ago. When it was all over, I tearfully thanked my surgeon for discovering I had a heart murmur in the first place, and then for saving my life. I hug and kiss the man every time I see him. And one time this same doctor whom I respect so much said to me, "Dale, we physicians deal with muscle tissue and bones... but what you do effects our souls."


I don't think of what I do as particularly courageous — but I do believe that what we do is deeply important: we affect the souls of those our music touches. To me, playing music is a very high calling: it is a responsibility, and a sacred trust. Making music may sometimes be difficult and sometimes fun -- but for me, at least, it is first, last and always an honor and a joy.


I have just returned from this four-year journey in search of an answer to the ‘missing link’ of this puzzling Inner Game demonstration with the singer. There are three disciplines that we all need to master: technique, concentration, and the spirit of the soul. Our music schools have done a great job of teaching us how to master our instruments (the horn). Inner Game principles and other similar disciplines have been helpful in assisting us to master our concentration. The third Mastery, however, is the one I invite you to begin with on this new journey. This has to do with who you are as a unique human being. We don’t have to master all ten pathways, but we can begin to find those qualities within our soul that can be enriched and nourished, which have a way of manifesting in everything we do — as musicians AND as people. These unique and highly-developed qualities that make up our human spirit will also make us better musicians.


The way to engage in this final level of mastery is to stay on the path and to keep searching, because searching for growth and knowledge to develop our inner self is the very same pathway that is taken by many great musicians. The answer lies within the spirit and the soul. It is a pathway not frequently traveled as a means to artistry, but it is something we can all learn and something we do to develop our uniqueness. We all have the capacity to grow and to learn from music, people, and life. We know that this is one of the great reasons to be alive.

 

 
 


 
 


 
© Copyright Barry Green 2005