Tag Archives: Practicing Saxophone

Your Sound: Hearing What Is There Instead Of Listening For What Is Not

Practicing Music: Balancing Subtraction And Addition

To improve and grow as a musician, you have to practice with very specific aims in mind. When you’re practicing effectively, you’re doing either one or two things:

You’re unlearning habits that interfere with your ability to play better.
You’re learning new ideas, skills, information, repertoire, patterns, etc., to expand what you are able to do.

So in essence, you’re subtracting (unlearning) or adding (learning). Learning to balance your efforts so you’re working on both is key to your progress.

As an Alexander Technique teacher, I always give subtraction top priority. All the musicians that come to me for help do so because they have movement and postural habits that are creating problems for them as they play their instrument. They need to learn how to subtract these habits, so they can play with greater ease, efficiency and precision.

As a saxophonist, I spend a good percentage of my practice time specifically devoted to keeping my habits in check.

Today, for example, I spent a period of time consciously preventing myself from tightening my neck and jaw as I played scales into the altissimo register. When I’m able to stop myself from indulging in this excess tension, my sound is so much more clear, round and warm (not always an easy thing for saxophone altissimo).

In Alexander Technique jargon, we call this kind of conscious prevention inhibition. It is this inhibition, this conscious subtraction of habit, that has helped me improve more than anything else.

In fact, I would say that most issues involving instrumental pedagogy are best addressed with subtraction. Stop doing the thing that’s causing the problem, and you’re “half way home”, as F.M. Alexander would say.

Of course, if all you do is work on subtracting habits, you’ll deprive yourself the opportunity to expand in other areas. To grow as an artist, you also need to add things (see number 2 above). You need a nice mix of both.

As a teacher, I’ve encountered musicians who are out of balance with their practice routine in this regard.

I’ve worked with jazz guitarists who were so concerned with adding repertoire, learning licks, transcribing solos, etc., that they were completely out of touch with how sloppy their technique and time had become through all the excess, unconscious tension they created in themselves as they play.

When I get them to become aware of their habits, and get them to address them (subtraction) through practice, they are pleased with how nicely all their newfound knowledge and skills integrate into beautiful, expressive music.

But I’ve also seen the reverse of this imbalance. For example, I’ve worked with brass players who spend so much time on “habit control” (especially with embouchure), that they get kind of stuck in their progress. Stuck, not only because they’re doing nothing to increase their ears, repertoire, etc., but also, because they’ve become so obsessed with controlling their habits that they’ve grown stiff (physically, emotionally and mentally) in their playing.

With these students, it’s been a matter of teaching them how to better approach their subtraction process so they’re not trying for absolute perfection. And then getting them to gradually step into the unknown by learning some new musical material.

So aim for striking a balance between these two aspects of your practice. Strive to be clear about cause and effect. If you keep adding to what you do, but find yourself sounding worse (time, tone, intonation, articulation, control), remember that unless you get those habits of misdirected tension under control, you’ll just amplify bad results. You may have more notes you can play, but with far less beauty.

I recommend doing these five things:

Write down, in great detail, the short term and long term goals you aim to achieve through practice.
Make a list of the things you’ll have to do in your practice to reach your goals.
Determine which of these things you’ll practice are subtractive or additive by definition, and mark then on your list accordingly using a plus mark for addition (+), and a minus mark (-) for subtraction.
Keep a practice log everyday, again putting plus or minus marks next to each thing you practice.
Reassess regularly to see how you might need to change the balance of pluses and minuses to continue on toward your goals.

And just to emphasize again, always begin each practice session with subtraction. Ask yourself, “What do I need to stop doing to play better?” Start with this everyday, then enjoy all the new things you’ll study and learn.

Staying In Touch With Your Reasoning

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This morning I gave an Alexander Technique lesson to one of my most dedicated students, a professional guitarist who’s been taking weekly lessons from me for over a year and a half. During his lesson I was reminded of one of the ultimate benefits of long term study of the Technique: You cultivate the skill and confidence necessary to solve your own problems.

You do so by learning to analyze the needs of a particular musical task, discerning what you’re actually doing (as opposed to what you believe you’re doing), and deciding if what you’re doing is best for the task, or not.

Then you’re modifying your thinking, reorganizing your efforts in such a way so that what you’re doing gives you the best chance of success in achieving your goal. This more often than not primarily involves subtracting the habitual (unconscious) patterns of tension that interfere with your natural coordination. It rarely (if ever) involves adding something to what you already do.

When you learn to work this way, all the inconsistencies of practicing and performing music become less mysterious, less daunting. As my student said this morning:

“If something is not going well as I play (that normally goes well), I stop and think about what in my thinking has changed to make the outcome of my playing change. Before, I used to get discouraged, believing that things just go bad for no particular reason. Now I realize that if things aren’t going well, it’s because the conditions in myself that encourage things to go well have changed. And I trace that right back to my thinking. I improve the conditions by changing my thinking, then things go back to running smoothly. I don’t go back into panic mode anymore. All I have to do is to remind myself to stay in touch with my reasoning.”

I love that last sentence, especially his words, stay in touch with my reasoning.

F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique), in his book Man’s Supreme Inheritance, wrote that when most people face the unknown in a fearful way, they become “absolutely out of communication with their reason.” When this is the case, he found, the chances become slim that they’ll be able to help themselves, as they are guided by unconscious habit and fear.

Much of what Alexander advocated in his work was staying in touch with the ability to reason, to discern, to make true choices (based upon what can be discerned, and what is possible), not to be exclusively guided by habit. He talked a lot about being able to “step into the unknown”, not only as a way to learn to change your habits, but also, as a way to continuously grow and develop as a conscious human being.

The really great thing about the Alexander Technique is that it is just that: a practical technique that teaches you how to reliably change and improve what you do.

When my student started with me, his thinking was all over the place. He’d tried numerous things to solve some of his technical challenges as a guitarist, most often with inconsistent (or worse) results.

As he put it, “I was always looking for the magic bullet, that one thing that was going to make everything work perfectly. Maybe it was a new hand position, or maybe it was some new form of concentrating on one part of myself, like my fingers. But what I’ve come to know is that there is no magic bullet. As I bring too much attention to one thing, something else always suffers.”

So what has he learned by taking Alexander Technique lessons with me? He’s learned how to notice his habits in relation to the natural coordination that is already established within himself.

In the lessons (through hands on guidance, visual demonstration and verbal explanation) he’s learned how to discern and judge what this natural coordination is. He’s been able to create a set of criteria to act as a sort of lens as he observes himself. When things go wrong, it always comes back to the fact that he’s doing something he needs to stop doing. (Yes, stop doing.)

And most important, he’s learned a reliable way to say no to these habits of tension that interfere with his optimum performance.

This doesn’t mean that everything’s perfect. In the realm of human experience (and especially with musicians and other artists), nothing is perfect. But, it has given him a reliable way to improve. It’s taken him out of the guessing, the trial and error, the frustration, the mystery. It’s put him back in touch with his reason. And that has helped him improve considerably.

If you find yourself becoming frustrated, beguiled and stuck in your improvement, it might help you, too.

The Number One Reason Why You Should Transcribe

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In the study of jazz (as well as many other improvisational music disciplines) transcription of improvised solos is standard practice. Jazz is often described as being a “language”, and one of the best ways to learn this language is through listening and transcribing.

There are various skills you develop from transcribing solos.

Many teachers of improvisation have their students transcribe solos to learn this so-called jazz language, as well as to give them a chance to build a vocabulary of useful “licks” that can be practiced in all 12 keys and applied to chord changes, tunes, etc.

Transcribing is also a great way to improve technique, as you most likely will be confronted with sequences of notes that just don’t fit easily into what you’re used to playing. And of course it’s a great lesson in jazz harmony as you analyze what the soloist has played.

But I think the most valuable skill you gain when you transcribe a solo (and the number one reason why you should consider doing it) is that you learn how to listen in a deep way.

Deep listening. You see, when you transcribe an improvised solo, you’re listening to more than just the pitches being played. You’re listening to tone color, attack, dynamics, articulation, tempo/rhythmic play and more, as it unfolds in the real time environment of the recording.

But you’re not just addressing the musical elements separately, as I’ve listed above. You’re also going deep into the mind of the artist. It’s almost as if you’re attempting to embody his/her experience in creating the solo. You’re learning to hear and reproduce sounds that musical notation could never fully or accurately express. You’re learning to actually understand and speak the language.

Each note has meaning. Each inflection has weight. Every element the improviser has chosen is related to every other element. And all this is happening as a whole experience of communication and response between the soloist and the rest of the ensemble. And you’re right in the middle of that experience.

Of course you vastly improve your ear for discerning pitch and rhythm. The more you transcribe, the easier it becomes. This is true largely because you are able to hear, understand and retain more in your working memory. And that translates into huge gains in your own playing. You go from a more self-concious, intellectual approach to improvising, to one in which you trust your muse and follow your ears.

When you transcribe, you’re developing the ability to listen at a high level of consciousness, learning to pay great attention to detail, and cultivating your musical imagination.

This is why many teachers of jazz improvisation recommend that you study only solos that you’ve transcribed, and not from the written notation of somebody else’s transcription.

The great jazz pianist and teacher, Lennie Tristano, would have his students (Warne Marsh, Lee Konitz, et. al.) devote themselves to listening to a solo for a long period of time (often several weeks) before he’d have them transcribe it. He’d insist that they be able to sing it absolutely accurately: pitches, rhythms, scoops and bends, articulations, dynamics…the entire feeling of the solo. His main objective: to get his students to listen deeply.

I think it’s fine to play other people’s transcriptions, by the way, but with different objectives in mind. For me personally, they’re a great way to improve sight reading and technique, as well as sometimes a chance for me to get immediately more familiar with an artist that I might not have much experience with. Plus, it’s just plain fun.

But if I want to go deep, I have to do the transcribing myself. And I encourage you to do so, too. The benefits are just too huge to ignore.

If you’ve never transcribed a solo before, here are some things to do/keep in mind to help you out:

Choose a solo that you really love-As obvious as this sounds, you might be surprised at the amount of novice transcribers who are slogging away in their first transcription attempt at a solo that they think they should transcribe (perhaps for its historical or musical significance), as opposed to what they really want to transcribe. If you’re compelled by the material, that motivation will take you far, and you’ll enjoy the process much more. But….(see below)

Keep it simple-Choose something that is easily singable, not too rhythmically complex. Find something lyrical and spacious. Lots of flowing eight notes punctuated with quarter notes and rests.

Listen, listen, listen-For a long time. If you can sing the solo accurately (the way Mr. Tristano had his students do), you’ll be amazed at how fast and easily you can find the notes on your instrument. Also, I recommend your first few transcriptions be limited to the artists who play your instrument. So if you play alto saxophone, for example, transcribing Paul Desmond would be highly user friendly, a good place to start (as long as you like Paul Desmond).

A little bit at a time is fine-If you’re intimidated by the length of a solo you really like, remember that you don’t have to transcribe it all. See if you can get the first phrase. Then the next. Work your way up to transcribing a chorus. If you feel it, continue on. Make it a long term project and enjoy the sense of accomplishment as you make it to the end. If you don’t make it to the end, that’s fine too. You still will have learned a good deal, and will have improved your skills. No regrets.

Slow it down-If it’s just going by too fast for you to take in, consider some of the software and smartphone apps that are designed specifically for transcription (to slow the tempo of a recording without altering pitch). One well-know software application is Transcribe!, by Seventh String. And of course there are lots of smartphone apps available now that do the trick.

Don’t write anything down-Not at first anyhow, as it can be a sometimes frustrating distraction. It’s important that the solo goes deep inside of you. That you know every note and every inflection, and that you can play it back to your satisfaction by memory. Once you can do that, feel free to write it out. It’s a great skill to develop as well (particularly for helping you read and understand rhythms).

Above all, enjoy yourself. By learning to listen deeply and reproduce sounds and rhythms in such a specific way, you’ll broaden your musical expression, become clearer as to who you are as an artist, and teach yourself to trust your ears. Best wishes!