My Most Challenging 3 Hours

It’s hard for me to believe, yet 20 years have elapsed since the event I’m about to relate to you.

At that time I was only just recently married to my wife, Tania, and we decided to embark on a project to ‘get the word out’ on our creative work.

Tania was then an aspiring composer, I was interested in acquiring management and having more of a presence as a solo violinist on the concert stage.

So we decided to hire an orchestra and produce a full-scale ‘demo’ recording featuring a movement of a concerto she had only just written for me, as well as 3 other movements drawn from the standard violin repertoire.

For those I chose the first movement of the Dvorak Concerto, the final movement of Mendelssohn, and the 2nd movement of Mozart’s G Major Concerto.

We rented a hall, paid for insurance, engaged a contractor, conductor and recording engineer, acquired the necessary scores and music, and hired a sixty piece orchestra – top studio players and members of the LA Philharmonic.

All the while I was practicing my you-know-what off.

Now, the conductor I chose to work with was a former teacher of mine; a wonderful musician and very, very knowledgeable about conducting.

What he was not, however, was in front of an orchestra regularly, and I came to discover, as we worked together, that he’d had almost no experience following a soloist.

So the big day arrived.

I can’t begin to tell you how much pressure I was feeling. Being up there in front of a bunch of highly trained musicians, and having put a great deal of our financial resources on the line; it was kind of a do-or-die situation.

We began with Dvorak.

Sure enough the conductor was so overwhelmed he seemed almost deaf to my presence. I began feeling that awful, scary, sinking feeling that comes when one senses that things are close to unraveling in a big way.

Yet I wasn’t about to go there without a good fight. After all, I had a group of the most responsive musicians in the world sitting there. My wife, with a great set of ears, was next to the recording engineer, scores in hand.

And I hadn’t spent all those hours in my studio twiddling my thumbs.

So collectively we just played over the top of our conductor, so to speak. We did what we all knew we needed to do. And though there were some tense moments, particularly in Tania’s piece – which none of the musicians had seen or heard previously – the final, edited product was really quite extra-ordinary.

I still keep one of those ‘demo’ cassettes on my desk as a reminder of that day; of how far preparation, keeping one’s head, and the help of others can take us.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

Time to Swing, Time Not to Swing

You might think, from the title of this newsletter, that I’m going to take us back several decades to the time of jazz greats Basie, Goodman, and Monk.

But no, I’m going in quite a different direction, as you’re about to see.

What I’ve been thinking about today is the use of the body beyond hands and arms when playing. Specifically, how to move, and when to move.

The other day I wrote concerning unconscious, ‘vertical’ motions players frequently make when playing accents or playing chords. Movements that introduce an unwanted ‘crunchiness’ to one’s playing.

The motions I’m talking about today are made in the torso, waist and legs, and mimic the swing of a pendulum; very different.

A word about pendulums; there is no better way to envision the flow of time than through the motion of a pendulum.

Pendulums derive their ‘intelligence’ from a fundamental force.

Gravity.

Gravity, as manifested in the movement of pendulums, literally COMPELS us to Feel a beat.

The acceleration of the pendulum’s weight creates an organic sense of increasing force – or tension, in music – the apex of which is clearly felt as it passes center. Release is felt as the tension decreases with deceleration.

When I was a child we used to visit an astronomical observatory with some regularity. There was a great pendulum in the atrium of the main building consisting of a ball of some 2 or 3 hundred pounds connected to a wire perhaps 30 feet in length.

It gives me chills just thinking about the wonderful arc it made over the floor.

But getting back to music and one’s body, imagine yourself ‘swinging’ to a beat through waist and torso. Matter of fact, why not get up and do it. Stand up, hold your arms in playing position, and allow your body – from below your chest – to swing at an ‘adagio’ tempo. As you do this resist any urge to move your arms sympathetically; keep them relaxed but in one position.

After a few bars shorten the swing until you arrive at ‘andante’; then ‘moderato’, ‘allegro’, and finally ‘presto.’

At ‘presto’ the dips and movements from side to side will be very small indeed.

The point of this exercise is to free the bottom two-thirds of you body from your upper body. By the way, as you do this, breathe as you know how to breathe; from the belly. And experiment with the size and number of you breaths per pendulum swing; even taking several short breaths during the ‘adagio’ swings, and long breaths under the ‘presto’ swings.

Great practice; for timing, relaxation, coordination, and getting all the little grey cells tuned up and anxious for the sound of a violin.

Oh, I almost forgot. When NOT to swing. That’ll just have to wait for another day, though if you keep your eyes and ears are open you’ll know without a word from me.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

Watching for Unsightly Bulges

I’d like to start off today by thanking all of you that sent in a note of ‘best wishes’ for our upcoming 20th. In fact we’re celebrating it a tad early. I will be back in LA putting down more music for the epic ‘Avatar’ on the real day.

So here’s the deal with ‘unsightly bulges.’

When many of us began playing we felt rather uncertain, at times, of where pitches lay on the fingerboard. It’s only natural. As a consequence there was a great temptation to hold back the tone until we were certain we had the note in tune, particularly when it involved a change of bow or position.

And though well-intentioned, this seemingly innocent little thing can quickly become an unfortunate habit that requires a lot of mindfulness to break.

The best course is to resist the temptation to slow the bow speed into and out of bow changes from the get-go. Let an out of tune note ring out boldly if you miss it.

It’s much easier to correct the aim of your left hand – which you will have to do anyway – than going back years down the road to address this amateurish affectation.

Now if you’re working with any of my courses this should be ‘preaching to the choir.’ If not, take it as a word to the wise and go back and listen to yourself with it in mind.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

Why I Think ‘Horizontal’

A few days ago I referred to the importance of thinking about moving the bow horizontally – as opposed to vertically when playing strong chords. And I had a gal write in asking for a little clarification on the matter.

So here goes.

By ‘horizontal’ I’m really speaking of the outward and inward movement of the bow. Some players have a tendency to ‘crunch’ triple and quadruple stops because they either hit the strings vertically from above or put too much pressure on the strings prior to beginning the outward stroke.

And, as I said in the last newsletter, this is often accompanied by totally unconscious up and down body movements that amplify the crunching effect.

Yet my horizontal thinking does not stop with chords.

Let’s say you’re alternating between two strings using separate bows – very common in music of the baroque. Now, there is a tendency for players to want to make circular movements with bow in these kinds of passages. One half of the circle is on the down-bow, and the other half on the up-bow.

It would seem to make sense.

I myself, however, do not EVER think that way. I think only of the horizontal movement of the bow; out on one note, in on the other. I want the shape made by the bow passing through space to be as flat as possible as it alternates between the strings.

If anything, the result will be an elongated oval.

The specific reason for my thinking this way is tone, though I also feel there is a benefit to one’s control as well.

Tone is ALWAYS about moving the bow horizontally – well, almost always. There are those rare situations where you really do want a percussive effect, and in that case a vertical strike may indeed be called for. Yet this is the exception that proves the rule, in my opinion.

Once you are clear on this simple concept your playing becomes cleaner and more focused, your sound more ringing.

Now, if you’d like a couple great pieces of repertoire to explore this in detail, you need go no further than my ‘Bach and Kreisler for Violin Artistry’ course.

In the instructional DVDs I take you bar by bar through both pieces, providing ample opportunity to watch me do exactly what I’m preaching, both slowly and at tempo.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

P.S. I also find Kreutzer #30 a great, great study for understanding the importance of horizontal thinking. It is in volume 3 of my Kreutzer for Violin Mastery course, and is a natural companion to ‘Bach and

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

MIn our living room hangs a fairly good size mirror with a beautiful frame of hand-painted glass. It was made in Argentina. And you can find me standing in front of it quite frequently.

Yea, sometimes it’s to see if I look any better than I did the day before – hope springs eternal. Yet a far greater amount of time is spent there with violin and bow for something a little more purposeful.

It then becomes my mirror of truth, letting me see, with a perspective other than over my nose, what is really going on in my body when I play. Unnecessary or even counterproductive things that may be so habitual I’m not even aware of their presence.

Yesterday a very fine violinist came to play for me – I was still in LA finishing a few recording sessions. His purpose was to familiarize me with his playing; thinking I could facilitate his getting more opportunities in the recording industry.

After playing for me he had the good sense to ask for my comments – a very good practice I might add, especially when work might hang in the balance.

And one of the few things I had to say was accompanied by the suggestion he spend some time in front of a mirror watching for it.

You see, quite a few violinists have an unconscious habit of reinforcing the vertical movements of the bow when playing chords with an up and down movement of the body.

The unfortunate result of this can be an effect somewhat reminiscent of chopping wood, not something one wants in the music of Bach – I exaggerate in this particular case.

So I drew this to his attention and suggested he get in front of a mirror and actually watch for it.

What one needs to get the violin ringing is HORIZONTAL energy, not vertical energy. The explosive, fleet movement of the hand away from the body is what gives triple and quadruple stops life.

Now as regards mirrors, I do have a warning to go along the use of them in practice.

In the end it must be about what you are feeling in your body as you play. When you perform there will not be a mirror in front of you to help deflect the self-consciousness threatening to unseat you.

The attention you place on the mirror must be light. The bulk of one’s awareness is on feelings. The determinations to faithfully adhere to the Good Feelings you have so rigorously cultivated in practice is what will carry the day for you.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

The Magic of Tone

Last night, after a pretty full day at Fox Studios recording for ‘Avatar’, I had the privilege of attending a dress rehearsal of the Los Angeles Music Center Opera.

It was Donizetti’s charmingly witty vehicle for vocal display, ‘Elixir of Love.’

I say I was privileged because I really heard some really first-class vocalizing. If you love singing and don’t know the names Nina Machaidze and Giorgio Caoduro, I’m sure you will soon.

In any case, Milstein always said that he learned more from listening to singers than he ever did from violinists. And last night the reason why was particularly evidenced in the vocalizing of Ms. Machaidze.

A great tone is all about focus and what I’d call ‘the purity of the vowels.’ This lady has it all, in spades.

Now, on the violin we tend to equate getting ‘focus’ with drawing a straight bow, perpendicular to the strings, as close to the bridge as is possible.

The ‘purity of the vowels’ part of the equation has to do with the more subtle elements, like bow speed and pressure, the centering of the pitch, and the way the vibrato is shaped.

When all of these come together in a well intentioned, harmonious manner something magical springs to life. Suddenly there is that ringing-ness that penetrates right to the core of one’s being.

In an instant we are transformed and transported.

Truly, a cultivated tone is one of the great blessings we can bestow to this world. And I do believe I have some valuable, specific insights to share with budding violinists on this most important subject.

Here is where an intermediate player can apply for my assistance.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

P.S. If you are closer to the outset of your violin adventure, or if you’ve been with the instrument for a while yet feel important aspects of technique are missing from your playing, I suggest my Beginners Circle for a complete foundation.

A Tennis Tip for Violinists

Yesterday afternoon a couple gals from around the block came to look after Claire, and my wife and I headed out for our local tennis courts.

We began by doing our usual warm up at mid-court, the benefits of which resemble a warm up of slow scales and arpeggios on the violin.

After we had hit for a few minutes, though, I suggested we both make a conscious effort to put our feet in motion BEFORE the other person was struck the ball, rather than waiting until it was on its way over the net – as you may know, getting yourself in position relative to the ball is about 50% of the game of tennis.

The change in the quality of our hitting – i.e. control and consistency – was immediate and dramatic.

A few minutes later we took a break for water, and my wife says, ‘So, are you going to write about this in a newsletter?’

Hummm.

Here’s the deal. Tennis is a ‘real time’ activity, just like making music. And in both one is frequently responding to slight, and not-so-slight, variations in the flow of time – in tennis time measured by the speed and direction of the ball.

Now, there is a something we’ve got to be aware of for this to happen in the most efficient manner possible. It’s called inertia.

In tennis inertia takes the form of standing in place, waiting for the ball to start back across the net. In violin playing inertia takes a more visible form by way of foot-tapping and scroll-bouncing.

Now don’t get me wrong, in music that’s about a ‘groove’ – baroque and classical fast movements, much ‘pop’ music – I can’t say I have a problem with this; though in excess it can certainly be distracting.

But in finely nuanced music, and that’s a lot in the romantic-contemporary literature, one cannot afford to put the body on ‘auto-pilot’ in this way.

One must be alert and able to respond Right Now to the music’s ebbs and flows.

This is why I recommend, as challenging as it is, verbally labeling the beats – whether silently in one’s head or out loud in practice. Doing this is like keeping one’s feet moving in tennis. It is, in fact, the opposite, of scroll-bouncing or foot-tapping in violin playing.

Mental counting is creative and activating; scroll-tapping passive and dulling.

When I’ve prepared a score to where I can mentally label the beats as I play the music, no matter how challenging to accomplish, I know I can adjust, in an instant, to changes to the beat.

No, it’s not anticipation. It’s absolute, moment to moment Watch-Full-ness.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

When to Lower Expectations

One of my favorite composers to work with is the inimitable Randy Newman.

Now some of you may remember his wickedly sardonic humor from his hit tune, ‘Short People.’ Others his Oscar nominated, hauntingly beautiful song from ‘Toy Story II’ called, ‘When She Loved Me.’

Of course these are just two small examples of Randy’s endless font of creativity. Yet what makes him a real hoot to work for is his sense of humor. He could quite honestly have had a world-class career as a standup comic.

A few years back he had a running joke about how hard he used to be on himself, until he learned the secret of eternal bliss – ‘I’ve lowered my standards far enough now,’ he said, ‘to where nothing I do bothers me anymore.’

Boy did the orchestra howl.

He was joking, of course. Randy Newman maintains about as high a standard for himself as anyone I’ve ever come across.

Yet there are times, in the short hall, particularly, when I feel it is useful, and even beneficial to lower one’s expectations, if not one’s ultimate standards.

We all have bad days. Heck, I have days where even opening the case is a challenge. And ironically, it’s often the day after a very good practice or performance that I feel this way; perhaps the result of excessive exuberance taking its toll on my energy.

Nonetheless, it’s on just such days when it becomes imperative to cut yourself some slack; to start slow, get the bow moving across the strings, and rein in thoughts of frustration at not feeling one’s best.

Only when this is accomplished do I recommend gently beginning to raise the bar.

When I adopt this approach I’m often amazed at how quickly I can turn things around. Not always, but quite frequently.

Anyway, these are the thoughts I had this morning as I dealt with just such a session.

And it came around quite nicely, by the end, thank you very much.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

P.S. I think I mentioned in a recent newsletter that I was taking myself the Kreutzer’s book of 42 Etudes/Caprices. Well, mission accomplished. Come do them with me and they will rocket your playing to a whole new level of mastery.

On Getting Ducks in a Row

To be truthful, I really don’t have any experience whatsoever with trying to order ducks in a row. I can imagine, however, it would be quite a challenging task unless, by chance, you happen to be a mother duck.

In any case, this funny image came to me as I thought of the challenges we confront as violinists.

There are a myriad details to resolve in pursuit of mastery, and once one has them in isolated form they must be ordered quite specifically and recalled in a flash to fully realize complex music.

This past weekend I had quite an interesting, and at times challenging, time initiating my daughter into the art of penmanship.

Though most of us have probably forgotten the process, there is quite a bit of duck-lining that goes into it – how to hold the pencil, where the pencil begins on the paper for each letter, how far and in what shape it travels, and so forth.

And though not so complex, it is an appropriate metaphor, I think, for the task of mastering the violin.

Now, like so many players, the main challenge my daughter faces, even at the tender age of 7, is in overcoming some unfortunate habits she acquired early on in her writing experience.

She is constantly jumping ahead of herself assuming she knows what she really Doesn’t know.

On seeing or recalling a letter, her mind immediately goes on ‘auto-pilot’ with the result that, in the absence of old dad here, we get the same rough approximations for letters she learned at age 5.

So in our penmanship lessons I have had to challenge each and every assumption she now holds, virtually every time she places her pencil on the paper.

Initially in was pretty slow going, and I fielded some serious protestations from her over the process – ‘I can’t do it’, ‘I don’t understand’, ‘why do you make me do this?’ – you know the drill.

Yet when the ice began to crack, and the powers observation got to flowing, the results had quite a positive effect on her.

You can surely imagine how I felt witnessing this awakening.

So, does this have to do with your violin practice? Only in so far as you are prepared to challenge your assumptions each and every time you take the instrument from its case, or put one of my instructional DVDs in your player.

In the way of Zen it is known as ‘Beginners Mind.’

Now if you’re not too far along in your violin study and are looking for a good place to apply your ‘beginners mind’, I’ve got just the ticket.

All the best, Clayton Haslop

P.S. Players of longer experience may want to jump in to more challenging material.