Remembering my mentor Clement Barone

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Amy Likar, Body Mapping, Clement Barone, CSULB, Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Flute, piccolo, Santo Urso

Yesterday, I began my 25^thyear of teaching at CSU Long Beach.  It also was the 15th anniversary of the passing of my beloved mentor, Clement Barone.  Flying back home to Northern California, energized after a fun first day with my Body Mapping students, I took a trip down memory lane with my favorite pearls of wisdom from the master.

Clem and I after my Senior Recital at Wayne State University, Fall 1991.

For those of you who never had the great fortune of meeting, hearing, knowing, or studying with this extraordinary man, Clement Barone was a mensch of the highest order.  Week after week, for thirty-three years, he delivered piccolo magic in the Detroit Symphony Orchestra.  Clem had a piccolo sound like nothing I’d ever heard before or since, a sound that remains my north star.  Clem was the solo piccolo of the DSO from 1958-1991.  Flutists, piccoloists, do yourself a favor, and find some DSO recordings from the Paul Paray, Antal Dorati, and early Neemi Järvi eras.

He had a gift for making every student feel like family, yet still honest and firm when it came to our progress as young musicians.  He was a role model in every way; as a player, as musician, as an artist, as a teacher, and as a human being.  He reminded us lesson after lesson to “SING!” Of course, he was interested in the destination of whatever phrase we were trying to navigate, but found a way to kindly remind us that it was really about the journey.

Clem taught us how to be humble and create honesty with ourselves in our daily practice.  Leaving no stone unturned, he made us ask ourselves the simplest yet sometimes difficult questions in the practice room; what, where, when, why, and how? When working things out in our practice, or when thinking about music, he would encourage us to ask  ourselves:
What’s happening here or there?  When does it happen, or when was this piece written?
Where does it happen, or where should I do this or that?  Why is this particular thing happening in this spot, what am I doing to make this happen?  How is it happening, or how should I approach this passage?

He used to say that if we could answer those questions we’d no longer need him and we could do anything as musicians.  No piece would befuddle us, nothing would be insurmountable, we’d have the tools we need to be our own best teacher.  He believed there was always another way, and it was for us to seek out.

I model my teaching style after that of Clem and of my father, Santo Urso.  The two of them were like brothers, and their approach and teaching styles were similar in many ways.  Both were old school Italians who didn’t mince words and told you like it was, but always from the heart and with compassion.

One of my all time favorite photos! Backstage at the DSO circa 1960’s: Dad, Sal Rabbio, and Clem Barone.

As a Body Mapping specialist, I’m always in search of the answers for the what, where, when, why, and how – for myself and my students.  I remain curious to find the answers.  Like Clem used to say, there really are many other ways, and I encourage my students to also look for them, as I was encouraged to do by Clem.  Also like Clem, I teach the student, not the flute, and believe it’s about the journey, telling the story, playing from my heart, and singing through my flute and piccolo when I play.

Body Mapping has been an awesome and essential addition to my life as a performing artist.  In addition to helping myself overcome years of tension, pain, and injury as a flutist, I have the good fortune to help others to do the same.  Before Body Mapping, there were times throughout my professional career that I would stop and ask myself  “wow, is this what the end of a career looks like?”   My repetitive injuries began in undergrad, while studying with Clem.   There were times when I was completely sidelined.  His practicality, understanding, and teaching style was especially helpful during those years.  Fortunately for me, the path finally led me to my good friend and colleague (and fellow Body Mapping teacher) Amy Likar, who was the one to first introduce me to this amazing somatic world, ultimately enabling me to play pain free.

Amy and I after a fun evening at the Oakland Symphony Bach & Brew, 2014.

Fast forward to present day, as cliché as it sounds, I am doing what I love and love what I’m doing; exactly what I want to do, and not what I feel like I have to or need to do.  The gratitude I feel for my teachers, mentors, and colleagues for their inspiration and guidance, as well as my students for their enthusiasm and eagerness to soak it all in, is immeasurable.  Most especially, I am grateful to Clem Barone.  The north star of his pure, sparkling, beautiful piccolo sound, and words of wisdom, continue to inspire me.

Clem Barone

 

Gratitude

Gratitude: The quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.

The end of another academic year and orchestral season has come and I feel extraordinarily grateful to be able to do what I do.  I love being a musician, inspiring students, and helping others.  It seemed appropriate to express these feelings on teacher appreciation week.

If you read my blog, you already know the immense gratitude I feel for the principal teachers in my life; Clem Barone, John Barcellona, Robert Patrick, Anne Zentner, and my Dad, Santo Urso.  These giants are with me in my practice room every day.  I would not be where I am today if not for them.  Their knowledge and generosity goes way beyond simply playing the flute; these pearls of wisdom were and continue to be a life lessons.

Clem and I after my Senior Recital at Wayne State University, Fall 1991.

We may not achieve all the things we set out to do in the beginning of our journey. Our paths twist and turn and take us in directions we never imagined, but ultimately were meant to take.  Winning a big job in a top orchestra, being appointed to a full-time professor position at a major school of music, or whatever road you mapped out and thought you were on, ultimately doesn’t define you. At the end of the day, what matters most is that you’re a good person and that you keep going.  Why?  Because you love what you do.  What else matters?  Integrity, passion, honesty, loyalty, work ethic, love of the music, telling the story – these are things my mentors and teachers taught me and these are the things I strive to pass along to my students.

With commencement around the corner, graduates can’t help but reflect back on the past 4 + years of their lives.  Looking ahead to the unknown road before you students continue on your journey, here’s my .2 cents:

Be kind to yourself. These are words you often hear but I can’t say it enough.  Be kind to yourself.  We musicians beat ourselves up in the practice room; “…It’s not fast/slow/soft/loud/musical enough, I’m not good enough…”  First of all, you are good enough.  Secondly, as for the faster/higher/louder, you have the tools you need to fix those things.  So, roll up your sleeves and do the work.  There’s no substitute or short cut.  Growth as an artist isn’t like cramming for a US History exam, it’s a process, and one that you must learn to love.  In doing so, speak well of you to you.  It’s amazing the things we say to ourselves in the practice room that we would never ever say to anyone else.  Be kind. Always.

Be patient with the process.  Rome wasn’t built in a day.  Working things out takes time.  Like I said, there are no short cuts.  If you have to learn a 14 page concerto with a crazy difficult third movement that is marked quarter note = 327, you know what you need to do.  How would you advise a student or colleague to work it out?  And, what language would you use when expressing that?  (see above).  When working something out slowly, after however many times through it, it will naturally begin to get easier, more fluid, less clunky.  Trust me, it will.  Feeling less than 100% inspired?  Take whatever time necessary to figure out what you need to do to regain that spark.  Then, let go and trust the process. 

Be open to all of the possibilities.  We have no idea where the road will take us.  We might think we do, but we don’t.  Try to enjoy the unknown, unplanned, unmapped world of total possibility.  Be open and be ready.  My Dad used to say “Opportunity will knock, it might only be once, so be ready.”  Truer words were never spoken.  I could tell you a dozen different stories to support this statement, the last-minute call to sub with this orchestra or that orchestra, for example.  Bottom line: be ready and be open to all of it.

Express your sincere gratitude.  I’m not suggesting that you suck up to the personnel manager, principal clarinetist, or whomever offers you that last minute golden opportunity.  Express sincere gratitude.  Yes, you’re the one doing the work in the practice room, but you don’t get there on your own.  There are people along the way, sometimes behind the scenes, who help you with a recommendation or kind word to the the right person, give selflessly to you to help you improve and be your very best, offer advice when you feel lost, give you extra lessons for free, whatever the case, be gracious and thankful to these people.  Stop right now and ask yourself who these people are in your life.  Have you expressed gratitude to them?  If not, do it now.  Write them a note, a real note, not a text.  Pick up the phone and give them a call to say hello, see what’s new in their lives, and say thank you.  Karma begets karma.

The 2018-19 orchestra season ended a little earlier for me this year as I’m planning my wedding and giving myself the gift of time off to do so.  A few weeks ago I was lucky to enjoy the super bloom from my Subaru windows as I made my way up and down the state of California for work.  Seriously, the 5 and 99 freeways have never been more beautiful.  It reminded once again how fortunate I am to make my living as an orchestral flutist, university professor, and body mapping specialist.  Thank you to my teachers Clem, John, Bob, Anne, and Dad, as well as my family, friends, and colleagues who continue to inspire me every day.  I’m so grateful for you all.

 

Ciao, Signor Verdi.

DSO flutes and the tools of the trade

Chamber music with my CSULB colleagues

Clem and I

Dad and Lare Wardrop

At the corners of Verdi & Rossini in Torino

Iowa Flute Intensive goodness: Post concert happiness with my dear friends, Nicole Esposito, Michel Bellavance and Julien Beaudiment

One of my all time favorite photos! Dad, Sal Rabbio, and my mentor Clem Barone.

Me and my university’s president, Jane Conoley

Rachel and I at OCMF

With my outstanding BCCM colleagues after our performance of our newly commissioned work by Adriana Verdie

4 piccolos in Grado

Mary Kogen and I

Dad and Paul Paray

Holiday fun at the Oakland Symphony

Kristen and I at OCMF

Late-night roundtable talks at 1984 SW 5th. Represent, yo.

2/3 of Alcyone Ensemble

My love

Me and JB after Un Ballo

The Positive Side of Injury

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Body Mapping, Chicago Cubs, CSU Summer Arts, CSULB, Flutist, Inspiration, Kris Bryant, Musician, The Complete 21st Century Flutist

I’ve been thinking about repetitive injuries lately – particularly the recovery, rebuilding, relearning, and finding the silver lining part of them.
Last week, my boyfriend John, who is a lifelong die hard Cubs fan, shared an interview with me about Kris Bryant and his injuries this season which have landed him on the Disabled List.  Since 2015, Bryant has been the MLB All Star twice, the National League Rookie of the Year, won a World Series and was named the National League’s MVP.  A remarkably talented athlete. Unfortunately, he’s been out for most of this season with injuries, specifically a left shoulder injury.  This is a 26 year old man in the prime of his career!
In this interview, Bryant discuses his treatment regimen, the patience necessary for dealing with an injury, and ultimately how, in the end, he’ll be stronger as a result. In speaking about the recovery and rebuilding process, he mentions that he’s glad this injury has happened because it is helping him to address the how: he’s relearning how to do what he does every day in a new way; train smarter, with greater awareness, and develop a new routine.
How does something like this happen to a finely tuned athlete at the top of his game? Years of the repetitive motion of swinging the bat the same way day after day has taken it’s toll. Perhaps a light has been shown on his process and the things he does daily, automatically, sometimes without thought. Something has lead him to this injury, whether or not it’s his overuse, we can’t say for sure, but it certainly isn’t helpful, and he’s being forced to address this.

Naturally, I found this to be inspiring, and it resonated with me not only as a Body Mapping specialist but even more as a musician who has dealt with overuse and injury for much of my career. Athletes and musicians have a lot in common when it comes to use of self, or rather misuse and overuse of self, and injury.

So, when does too much practice become harmful, and how does a professional athlete or musician find balance?

One Sunday morning this past April, I was traveling home to Northern California after regular weekly teaching at California State University Long Beach, reflecting back on my student Matt’s Master’s degree recital the night before. I made my way through the Oakland Airport, smiling and feeling immensely happy for and proud of Matt. Here’s a student that has been in my studio at CSULB for 7 years; he completed his BM in Music Education two years ago, and just completed his MM in Flute Performance this semester. When Matt began his studies at CSULB, he wasn’t immediately accepted into the Bob Cole Conservatory of Music. His first semester was spent taking classes as an undeclared major and weekly private lessons with me, which he paid for out of his own pocket. Never having studied privately, this could have gone either way, but Matt’s talent, dedication, passion, and patience paid off; he was accepted as a music major for the following semester.
As Matt grew closer to the end of his undergraduate studies, he began to have a change of heart. One day, he came to his lesson and said he didn’t want to go the route of music education, instead he wanted to focus his energy on refining his flute playing and decided to return to do his MM with me at CSULB. Fast forward, to April and Matt’s musically sophisticated, beautifully performed MM recital. What a milestone for him. As I was thinking about all of this, I reached into my bag and pulled out an apple and, without even thinking about it, bit into it and continued walking to my car. As I got to the end of the apple, three things occurred to me: 1. How much I was enjoying this perfect little Honey Crisp apple, 2. I had been walking a long time and had absolutely no clue where I parked my car, and, 3. I hadn’t eaten an apple the way one usually eats an apple for more than 20 years.

Fence and padlocks in the long term lot at Oakland Airport

Early in my undergrad, I was diagnosed with Temporomandibular Joint Disorder (TMJ). My Dad spent a lot of money on medical specialists to get me the best care possible. All were met with limited results. Ultimately, I had to do the real work and make changes in the ways I did even the most routine and simplest things, not exclusive to my approach to flute playing, but in day to day life. No longer would I eat corn on the cob, super crusty bread or bagels, or apples. Chewing gum was out of the question, as was eating hard or chewy candies. Even visits to the dentist were a challenge. In fact, one TMJ “specialist” placed me on a liquid diet for the better part of a year, prescribing regular use of anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxers for the pain, and a strong recommendation that I take three months off of playing. His opinion was that the pain I was experiencing was rooted in my flute playing. He wasn’t entirely right but he wasn’t entirely wrong. I did everything he asked me to do, including a three month break from playing. Returning to the flute and making an effort to address habitual playing related patterns would be a step that would take years to relearn and refine. I wasn’t successful in that part of my progress and within a year or so, more injuries would present themselves, both from outside forces and from overuse. All of this began when I was about 20 years old, and would color the next couple of decades of my life.

 

In that moment of enjoying Matt’s major milestone, I was enjoying one of my own; eating an apple. As a teacher, it’s easy to recognize and celebrate a students’ steady progress, marked each semester by a performance jury, not to mention their personal growth as human beings and musicians. It’s not always as easy to notice this with ourselves. An everyday activity like eating an apple literally stopped me in my tracks in the long term parking lot at Oakland Airport. For many years I wasn’t able to do that seemingly simple activity. There were also years I couldn’t pull anything out of the oven to place it on top of the stove, or take dishes from the dishwasher and place them up in the cupboard, or even lift a small suitcase to put it in the overhead bin. Each of these actions required use of certain muscles, muscles that also worked to move me in a habitual way necessary for flute playing. Sleeping was especially uncomfortable. Having chronic neck and/or back pain, or in some cases, an injury, means you need to consider the pillows you use, the bed you sleep on,  and the way you rollover and get up from sleep. There were years I couldn’t practice for more than a very short period of time without taking breaks before the pain set back in.  It’s fair to say, a combination of injuries compounded by overuse and a lack of education about how to use my body well is what exacerbated these issues.

How did I get from playing in pain every day to pain-free practice and performance?

I assembled a team of professionals to help me to discover and address the roots of my injuries. Committing to a regimen of Physical Therapy and daily exercises – even when I didn’t want to, or worse, when I thought I was better and therefore didn’t need to do the work anymore.  If we’re going to keep doing what we do, well into our twilight years, maintenance is essential. Regular exercise, stretching, swimming, whatever your preference, get out there and do it. A good PT will help you find the proper exercises to address your specific needs.

I took a close look at my practice routine and explored new ways to use my time. Shooting for several short sessions vs one long session was the best change of all. This helps us to stay mentally sharp, and stop for a break before tension and pain set in. Gone were the days of epic marathon practice sessions, mindlessly playing until things hurt. What was I thinking in my 20’s anyhow? Actually I know exactly what I was thinking: No pain, no gain… I just have to get through this audition/concert/recital, and then I’ll take a break. You may feel reluctant to try new things for fear of how you’ll sound during the process. Musicians, when we’re going through any change – an embouchure change, new hand position, or addressing breathing misconceptions – we might feel as though we don’t sound our best. And, what do we do in those situations? Go back to what we’ve been doing because we’re afraid of sounding bad, or because this new thing we’re tying to implement feels awkward and unnatural, and the old way, though limiting or in some cases, painful, is reliable, so we revert back to old patterns.
Getting to the other side of any injury requires patience.

Adjusting expectations and not be so hard on ourselves. Recovering from an injury and rebuilding strength takes time. Be patient with the process and celebrate your victories. You’ll soon begin to relearn how to do what you do, better, and without pain. There have been a few significant periods of time where I’ve been instructed to take a break from playing. Each time, my return has been eye opening and immensely valuable.

Breaking things down into smaller cells. Working smaller sections, always with your ears leading your practice, and always remaining inclusively aware. Remember to speak kindly to yourself in the practice room. It’s your sacred space. Would you speak to anyone else, a student included, the way you speak to yourself? It also takes trust, not only of those whose wisdom you are heeding but most importantly, from yourself. Trust the process. It may not happen as quickly as you’d like, but you’ll get there. Here’s the thing: you still sound good. Probably better.

Body Mapping. Several years ago, I began exploring alternative ways to fix my recurring issues. Body Mapping showed up in my life at the perfect time and learning how to use my body properly saved my career. It’s really that simple. I needed to figure out how I was doing what I was doing and Body Mapping made all the difference.

Morning Body Mapping workshop at my summer course, The Complete 21st Century Flutist at CSU Summer Arts

 

I say this a lot but it’s not about working harder, it’s about working smarter.  Time is short, there are stretches during the academic year and orchestral season when, like many of my colleagues, I have a lot of plates spinning. Efficiency and quality are what I’m aiming for in my playing. And, balance is key. This is a significant contrast from my views on practice 25 years ago. It’s not about the quantity of time logged in the practice room, it’s about the quality of time.

Like Kris Bryant, you might examine your habits; how you do what you do. Ask yourself if what you’re doing in your day to day is still working for you. He’s actually happy that this injury has happened to him, and optimistic that these new changes will make him an even better baseball player, which, as he puts it, is ultimately “a win” for him. That positivity and winning attitude is exactly what is needed when working through an injury. I’m grateful for the injuries and hurdles I’ve experienced in my career; each makes me a stronger person, a better player and teacher, and more informed Body Mapping specialist.

Whether you’re an athlete or a musician, playing in pain is simply not an option.
Many of us musicians have the habitual way we do what we do, day after day; in our practice rooms, in rehearsal, and in performance.
Today in your practice room, ask yourself these questions and take note. Literally, take note. Then take the time you need to reflect back on your notes and ask yourself if your habits serve you well, or has the time come to reevaluate and explore the possibilities a new and better way.

The Magic Continues at CSU Summer Arts

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Body Mapping, Bryan Pezzone, Carol Wincenc, Chamber Music, Composer, create inspire transform, Create Yourself, CSU Summer Arts, CSU Summer Arts 2018, Flute, Ian Clarke, Inspiration, Inspire, John Barcellona, Marianne Gedigian, Music, Nicola Mazzanti, piccolo, Rena Urso, Stephen Kujala, The Complete 21st Century Flutist, Transform, Wendy Caldwell

Two weeks have passed since my course The Complete 21^stCentury Flutist at CSU Summer Arts wrapped up and I’m still riding the wave of Summer Arts magic, miles away in Torino, Italy.

Just like Summer Arts, spending a month in Italy has become another wonderful way to invest in myself and my creativity, feed my soul, create friendships, and discover something new and beautiful. I return to regular life, still wrapped up in all this goodness, feeling rejuvenated and ready for the next adventure.

This summer’s flute course was special. To begin, I encouraged the flute students to make a short intro video of themselves and post it on our private Facebook group so that everyone could get to know a little about one another before arriving at CSU Fresno. It was lovely watching them arrive and connect with one another, like reuniting with an old friend who you haven’t seen in ages. I caught myself getting a little teary eyed a few times, looking around the dining hall on day one, seeing them all there together. You could totally feel their enthusiasm and energy. They bonded pretty quickly and almost immediately were like one, doing everything together – eating, walking, hanging out, watching The Bachelorette at night after classes ended. 

Our days were full; some days our dance cards were filled from breakfast at 7:30 am until heading back to our dorm rooms at 10:30 pm. Most mornings began with Body Mapping, some with warm-up’s both for our bodies and sound, and continued on with masterclasses, workshops, small chamber ensembles, large flute ensemble, round table discussions, and attending events in the evening presented by the various guest artists from the other equally awesome courses taking place simultaneously. We covered so much ground; standard repertoire; Historical Informed Practice (HIP) or Baroque interpretation on modern flute; orchestral and opera excerpts for flute and piccolo; chamber music; ethnic flutes including Pan flutes, penny whistle, recorder, D’izi, and Bonsuri; musician wellness and injury prevention with Body Mapping; fundamentals such as tone, flexibility, color, technique, and etudes; piccolo workshops; extended techniques; exploring our Mozart concerti as a large group; composition … and the list goes on. My friends, who also just so happened to make up the world class team of guest artists, went above and beyond every minute of every day (thank you, all, you guys are the best!); John Barcellona, Ian Clarke, Marianne Gedigian, Stephen Kujala, Nicola Mazzanti, Carol Wincenc, an pianists Wendy Caldwell and Bryan Pezzone. A special shout out to my two teaching assistants, Matt Lopez and Katie Hirabayashi, and a student host, Jose Ledesma.  All great.

One morning during warm-up’s with Carol, we created a simple little video of Moyse’s first melody with variation from 24 Little Melodies, WITH PIANO! This was a first for everyone in the room, as these studies are unaccompanied. Everyone except for Ian, who brought the piano accompaniment which he got from Trevor Wye, with him. Our little video has now had nearly 7k views on Facebook, and counting. (Yay, team!) Tasked with creating a short, simple melody by Ian, I was blown away when I heard what the students came up with. Students I’ve known for some time, and never knew they had an inner composer tucked away inside of them, in addition to their gifts as a flutist. Wow. Watching students have their ‘Ah ha’ moments, breakthrough’s and epiphanies. What these students accomplish in two weeks at Summer Arts is nothing short of amazing.  As a teacher, this is an incredibly gratifying thing to witness. One of my favorite things was to just sit back at our enormous table in the dining hall, and watch them interacting with one another, laughing, chatting away, listening to our various guest artists tell stories, seeing them leave and then quickly return to the table with ‘cookies for the table.’ Another favorite SA moment was when we took over the cafeteria on July 4^thwith a piccolo flash mob, playing Stars and Stripes for everyone. Fun!

Those moments will be forever etched into our minds. The new and special friendships forged. The memories created. All of it, special beyond words.

Then there were the collaborations and sparks of inspiration with the other students from art, dance, theater, creative writing; we all feed off of this inspiration from one another. All of us. The magic of Summer Arts is that we’re all feeling all the feels, they’re not just reserved for the participating students. All of us; the guest artists, course coordinators, staff, board, concert goers, everyone.

After the final Friday night flute student showcase, I was literally stopped by everyone who’s path I intersected with until leaving Sunday morning, telling me how much the flute class inspired their art. And, how they never knew the flute could sound like that. And, how it was the best showcase they’d ever seen in all their Summer Arts experiences. The Summer Arts office even received an email from a concert attendee, gushing about how much he enjoyed our guest artist concert the week before as well as the student showcase. Nicola said he had to keep reminding himself during the student showcase, that it was a student showcase and not a professional flute recital. The pride and happiness I feel for these extraordinary students is overwhelming.

The other part of Summer Arts that’s so great is that I get to hang out with people I really love for two weeks. We get to collaborate, create, inspire, share ideas, tell stories, stay up really late discussing life and teaching philosophies, drink espresso, eat bad cafeteria food, escape from bad cafeteria food and eat great Armenian food, play recitals together, and laugh – a lot.  We presented two phenomenal guest artist recitals, both of which were awesome, to say the least. 

I’ve happily sung the praises for my love of Summer Arts, here, here, here, and here.  It simply never gets old. If the world were a perfect place, I’d get to spend two weeks every summer, creating a special place for flutists, but I’ll be content with every other year. I’ve said this many times but it’s worth saying again; anyone who has ever experience the magic and beauty of Summer Arts, gets it. They wave their Summer Arts flag for all to see. I wave mine with an unparalleled enthusiasm, all the time.

To quote John, the love of my life and fellow Summer Arts course coordinator, “Summer Arts: where one day is like a week and two weeks is like a second.” We’re artists. We create. Sometimes in our day to day lives we forget this, I think, and get bogged down. It’s easy to lose the inspiration, the drive, the thinking outside the box kind of creativity and artistry we need to survive. Summer Arts is a refuge. A place where we can all retreat and be with our people, or in some cases, find our people. And make art. Create, inspire and transform ourselves.

Each Summer Arts experience is truly a unique, once in a life time opportunity. 2020 will be here before we know it, and we’ll embark on our next journey at The Complete 21^stCentury Flutist, with a new team of guest artists and fresh crop of bright, hungry, enthusiastic, talented flutists and artists from all over. All eager to park themselves amongst an equally bright, hungry, enthusiastic, talented group of other visual and performing artists, and do what they do; take it all in, feel inspired and create themselves. For now, I’m going to sit back and relax here in Italy, with a second cup of tea, and let this magnificent landscape feed my soul and inspire me.

 

 

CSU Summer Arts 2018: Live your bliss

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Bryan Pezzone, Carol Wincenc, Chicago Style Comedy, Create, Create Yourself, CSU Fresno, Ian Clarke, Inspire, John Barcellona, John Mayer, Marianne Gedigian, Nicola Mazzanti, piccolo, Stephen Kujala, The Complete 21st Century Flutist, Transform, Wendy Caldwell

We’re all gearing up for another magical two week flute extravaganza at CSU Summer Arts. My course, The Complete 21st Century Flutist, returns to Summer Arts, July 2 – 15, 2018. We’re on the campus of CSU Fresno this time, which we’re especially excited about because the music department at CSUF is a terrific space, and the Fresno community embraces Summer Arts with an unparalleled enthusiasm.
What exactly is CSU Summer Arts, and what’s the big deal – what makes it more unique or special than the other zillions of summer flute classes? Glad you asked …

On July 2nd, flutists from all over will descend upon Fresno, CA, eager to meet and work with some of the top flute artists of our time. They’ll congregate with fellow bright young artists from theatre, dance, creative writing, visual art and design, music, and media and animation. Each group of students will meet their course coordinators, guest artists, and fellow classmates and just like that, the magic begins.

The Complete 21st Century Flutist at CSU Summer Arts, July 2016 Photo credit: Todd Sharp

Summer Arts tasks us with this: “create your dream course.” It’s never a challenge to dream up a cast of characters with whom I want to collaborate. This year, flutists John Barcellona, Ian Clarke, Marianne Gedigian, Stephen Kujala, Nicola Mazzanti, Carol Wincenc, and yours truly will be joined by pianists Bryan Pezzone and Wendy Caldwell. Together, we’ll offer our flute students daily workshops, master classes, recitals, round table discussions … basically two weeks of flute magic.

The Complete 21st Century Flutist 2018 Guest Artists

To share a bit of my journey with Summer Arts, here is an excerpt from a blog post I wrote a couple of years back entitled “What’s the big deal about CSU Summer Arts”
Once upon a time, back in the early 90’s, when flannel shirts were fashionable the first time around and I was a grad student at CSULB, my flute professor came to me part way through my first year and told me he wanted me to attend a summer flute course that he was coordinating. The course would be two weeks long, take place at CSU Humboldt, and the guest artists were Michel Debost and Julius Baker. I can’t recall exactly what I said in that moment, but I’m pretty sure I replied with a very enthusiastic “yes!” before he even finished his sentence. I, along with another CSULB flute student, and a CSULB alumni clarinet student who would attend a chamber music course with the Alexander String Quartet, would all be a part of this awesome summer event. Having only lived in California for just over a year, the road trip alone took my breath away. Three of us made the long 700 mile trek north, and the further we traveled the more beautiful it got. CSU Humboldt is a gorgeous campus, and spending two weeks in this funky (in a good way), green, lush, coastal town, among the giant redwood trees, where the air was clean and crisp and the stars were so bright at night you could reach out and touch them was kind of unbelievable for this Detroit girl, to say the least.
The course was intense. Our days were long, and were made longer by our late night trips to the practice rooms to reinforce what we had learned that day. We didn’t sleep much. I also had the extra responsibility of being John’s assistant, which was an honor, to be sure. None of that seemed to affect me, or anyone else for that matter because we all were fueled by our enthusiasm and the immense creativity that surrounded us. See, while we were doing all things flute, there were all of these other courses taking place, from a variety of genres; theater, dance, visual art, as well as our fellow musician pals who were a part of the chamber music course. We all ate our meals together, most notably with Mr. Baker and Mr. Debost, and listened with rapt attention to their meal time banter. One free afternoon, my professor John invited me over to the coast with the local CSU Humboldt flute professor Betsy, as well as Mr. Baker and Mr. Debost. Are you kidding? I get to hang out with the cool kids? I’ll never forget that afternoon, or the first time I got to see the magnificent Northern California coastal views up close. Then there were the afternoons that my best friend Rachel and I walked Mr. Baker back to his apartment on campus, made him tea, and watched TV with him. Mr. Baker was getting over Lyme’s disease and he appreciated the help and the company. We couldn’t get enough of his stories.
The course was amazing in every way you might imagine. Until that summer, I couldn’t recall a time that I was more inspired. I forged many new friendships with my fellow flute classmates, several of which are not only dear friends to this day but professional colleagues as well.
Two years later, John offered me the same sweet deal to return to Summer Arts. This time, his guest artists were a former teacher of mine and a former DSO colleague of my Dad’s, Ervin Monroe, and Jean-Pierre Rampal. Seriously? 100% yes. Sadly, Mr. Rampal had to cancel because he needed emergency hip surgery, but fortunately, Mr. Baker was available to return a second time. Two more weeks of inspiration and creativity at this beautiful campus once again. Unlike ’93,  several of us CSULB flute students attended in ’95, and we had a ball together. To this day, when I get together with my Summer Arts friends, we reminisce about our time at CSU Humboldt. The bonds we formed are strong and have truly stood the test of time. At both the ’93 and ’95 courses, I felt fortunate to be chosen as a featured student soloist and play chamber music with other flutists who shared my love and enthusiasm for music and learning from these extraordinary musicians. The rich musical experiences and life lessons I gained those two summers at Summer Arts were invaluable, and they helped shape me into a far more creative musician and artist than I was before.
When John approached me 5 years ago and asked me to be a guest artist for another CSU Summer Arts flute course, you can probably guess my reply.
Our course was fantastic. Although I was now a guest artist, part of me felt like a student. We all learned from one another and those two weeks in July 2013 were just as inspirational and musically fulfilling as the summers I spent as a student back in the 90’s. I blogged about that incredible two week course, which you can read here. Suffice to say, I thought my life had truly come full circle… until I was asked to present a course of my own this summer.
If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m downright giddy over my course this summer. If I were a student, I would totally attend this course. Why? Because it’s filled with everything a flutist needs to develop, refine, and create the player they need to be to be successful in today’s music world. Oh, wait. I am attending! Yes!

Reading that except again makes me realize that not much has changed, really. I’m still over the moon about my relationship with CSU Summer Arts. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember I’m not dreaming. To be a part of this team of extraordinary people is indescribable.

Lifetime friends, thanks to Summer Arts! L to R: Carol Wincenc, Rena Urso, Ali Ryerson, and Wendy Caldwell in 2016

So what does The Complete 21st Century Flutist have in store for all of you this summer?

* In an effort to try something new, I decided to mix things up this time around from the traditional masterclasses where one person plays and 30 people sit and watch. Last summer, Nicola Mazzanti invited me to be a guest artist at his International Piccolo Festival in Grado, Italy. (Side note, if you are a piccolo player, you need to go to this class one summer. In a word, outstanding!) Anyway, what I loved about the daily schedule in Grado was that each guest artist had the opportunity to work with students one on one for an hour at a time, like a private lesson, except they were open for the other students to come in and and observe. What is especially valuable about this is that the students actually enjoyed more quality time with the guest artists instead of the customary 20 or 30 minutes in a large masterclass style. Don’t worry large masterclass lovers, we’ll still have a handful of those mixed in as well.

Carol Wincenc and Erec von Seggern

* Each guest artist will share their personal warm-up routines, including their favorite tone and technical studies. What I love about this is that we ALL learn something new. Discovering, and re-discovering new tone studies, technical exercises, and warm-up routines is like getting a pile of presents on your birthday. Wheee!
* Flutists, if you find yourself saying “I’m not really much of a piccolo player” that is absolutely going to change this July. Nicola Mazzanti will help everyone to refine their piccolo playing. Whatever level of piccolo player you are, you’re going to make big improvements under Nicola’s guidance. His book “The Mazzanti Method” alone will give you countless exercises to add to your daily practice and help you to develop greater fluidity and skill and return home a much more confident piccolo player than ever before.

Ian Clarke, on top of the world in Carmel, CA!

* Ian Clarke already has a pre-class homework assignment for everyone to help you tap into your creativity with composition. Want to know what he has planned for you? Guess you need to apply to the course to find out! Ian will also present workshops on extended techniques, large flute ensembles of his works, and a really wonderful workshop on sound exploration. Of course, I don’t need to point out how incredibly inspiring it will be performing works by Ian for Ian in masterclass.
*Stephen Kujala has many exciting plans for you, too. Among them are workshops on improvisation, a “mock recording session” with actual film and TV cues he’s played, an introduction to ethnic flutes, and his “Fretless-Flute” technique.
* Carol Wincenc will share her experiences of working with Marcel Moyse though his myriad of tone studies. She’ll also workshop the Mozart Concerti arranged for two flutes, in large group form. If you’ve never had the experience of playing for Ms. Wincenc in a masterclass, you’re in for a treat. Her dynamic enthusiasm and love for music is contagious!
* John Barcellona, “The Flute Doctor” will teach you how to teach yourselves and your students with his workshops on flute pedagogy, as well as as masterclasses on Baroque style – both on Traverso and modern flute.

John Barcellona, Ian Clarke, and Robert Dick, bringing down the house in 2016

* Having a strong wellness component is more vital than ever these days. I will present the full Body Mapping course “What Every Musician Needs to Know About the Body.” This will give you the essential tools to discover balance, more fluidity in your technique, greater freedom in breathing, and an overall ease in all that you do, with or without the flute.
*Marianne Gedigian will present workshops and masterclasses on our traditional flute repertoire as well orchestral excerpts. It’s exciting to have Marianne join us this year, not only because she’s amazing, but we share the distinction of both being from Detroit and both being students of the great Clement Barone. She and I love to share Clem’s pearls of wisdom in our teaching!
We’ll have round table discussions to chat about the various careers in music and ideas for how to create or improve yours, tips on how to prepare a professional orchestral audition, and of course chamber music coached by all of the guest artists.
Most nights we’ll attend public events presented by the extraordinary guest artists. These events vary nightly in genre and include art exhibits, speakers, dance performances, theater, and of course musical performances.  All are open to the public and free to Summer Arts students.
Sounds too good to be true, right? And you might still be wondering what makes Summer

No better way to start the day than with an early morning walk

Arts so unique? I’ve heard people say “Wow, this sounds like a great class, I can’t go this year. I’ll come next time.”
Here’s the thing; there won’t be a next time. This course is truly a moment in time. This collection of guest artists, with these students, all together in this place, with the other unique courses taking place at this same time, is not something we can ever duplicate. Yes, we’ll have another flute class again, but it will be different artists with different students and different courses taking place simultaneously. With all that is available to you, and all the information and opportunities you have access to via the internet as well as other summer flute courses all over the globe, how do you know this one is for you? How do you know this is what you need to do with your summer?

Remember early 90’s Rena, the one who could barely wait to let her professor finish his sentence before jumping up and down saying “YES! I want to go to this class!”?
I just knew. Some little voice inside me or feeling in my gut told me that course had my name written all over it. And it did.
It literally changed my life. And I can tell you as a guest artist five years ago and now a second time course coordinator, it continues to change my life.

The ultimate Summer Arts collaboration: me and the love of my life, John Mayer, long time Summer Arts course coordinator. Chicago Style Comedy

We all feed off of this inspiration from each other. It makes all of us better. 
Awhile back, I read an interesting article in Psychology Today entitled “You Need to Practice Being Your Future Self.” In it, the author mentioned several things that resonated with me, among them, and perhaps the most applicable to this are: 
“If you want to be productive, the first question you need to ask yourself is: Who do I want to be? Another question is: Where do I want to go?”
“… if you want to be a writer, you have to spend time writing.”
“…you need to spend time on the future even when there are more important things to do in the present and even when there is no immediately apparent return to your efforts.”

Spending two weeks, immersed in your art, surrounded by other artists and feeding off of their brilliant creativity – not only flutists, but visual artists, dancers, actors, writers – you will learn and understand more about yourself and your craft than you’ve ever imagined possible. The quiet creative space to sit and take it all in, absorb it, process it, and then decide your next step. You quickly learn that the same hurdles and creative struggles you face are not unique to you or music. We all share them as artists. And so, we collaborate. We create. We experiment. We open ourselves up to learning something brand new, and we grow. How many times in your life do you imagine that you’ll be able to hit the pause button and escape to a place where you can focus exclusively on your music? As we become more immersed in our careers, I can tell you, it is less convenient. Life gets in the way and we have more obstacles and challenges that prevent us from hitting that pause button. And, living in the time we live in, there are many distractions which can cloud our decision making to choose what we’ll benefit from the most. CSU Summer Arts is that thing that you’ll benefit the most from, guys. I say this not only as a course coordinator but as an alum. You and your craft deserve this. Give yourself this gift of inspiration and see what infinite possibilities lie ahead for you.

“You don’t take a trip, a trip takes you.” John Steinbeck

… my view right now

It’s another gorgeous morning here in Martinique. I’m sitting on the lanai, drinking a pot of tea, watching the waves crash below, the nearby roosters keep butting in with their two cents. I’ve come to appreciate daily rain showers on a whole new level being on a tropical island. The beauty and juxtaposition of pouring rain, the sky filled with thick grey clouds and then the clouds part and the sun peeks though, and everything is sunny and bright once again. Actually, I find peace and happiness in this because it’s how I’ve often described my Dad, Santo Urso and his hot-headed, passionate, old school Italian personality.
There have been several big firsts for me here in Martinique – including the navigation of the Word Press site this morning, which by default, is in French. Bon jour and merci! Between all of that and the feeling of a fresh start that one can feel with a new year, and of course the inspiration I’m feeling from the immense beauty all around me, well, it seemed like an excellent time to get back to my blog.
Long extended vacations are not something I’ve done much of in my adulthood. Being a freelance musician doesn’t lend itself to this sort of thing, although it should. For me, it now does. Making the decision to take time for yourself and stop and smell the roses is key, friends. After three weeks on this beautiful island, I feel like a new person.

A handful of highlights…
Swimming in open water – in the rain. I’ve been rained on, like really rained on, more in the past three weeks than I have in my entire life and I totally dig it. So refreshing and exhilarating.

Communicating in French, not very well, but still. Interestingly, turns out my go to language when things get tough is Italian. There have been many conversations here when I’ve not been able to communicate in French and I’ve automatically gone to Italian. (Yes!) My goal, in addition to continuing to learn and improve my Italian, is to continue practicing French so when we come back next January, I can speak with more ease and fluency with our new friends and the ladies at the local bakery.

Traveling with my new passport. Returning to my maiden name this past year was an indescribable feeling. When I was married, I used a hyphenated name because I wanted to always keep my identity and the connection to my family name. I love the symmetry and balance of Rena Urso. (Thanks Morris Hochberg – my Dad’s stand partner in the Detroit Symphony who named me!). When my new passport arrived in the mail a few months ago, I cried.

Snorkeling. OK, never, ever, ever did I think I’d try snorkeling. In 1995, my BFF Rachel and I went to Oahu. We took a super funky bus ride out to Hanauma Bay where she snorkled for the entire afternoon, while I, safely parked on shore, far way from the fish and other water creatures, worked on my tan. Two weeks ago, we took a trip down to Anse d’Arlet and with the encouragement and assistance from my boyfriend John, and our friends Wendy and Sean, I went snorkeling. I felt like a fish out of water at first. As a flutist, only being able to mouth breathe and not being able to breathe through my nose was a strange sensation and took a little getting used to. I was a little creeped out by the fish and the big rocks just below me. Then something happened, I realized how cool it was to be able to see something I’d not otherwise get to see. I saw a starfish and a sand dollar and a ton of little (and not so little) fish.

Anse d’ Arlet

Trying new foods – hello conch stew. (Not a big fan, btw). In the spirit of trying new things, I branched out in the culinary department, too. I’m always game to try new foods, as long as it’s something I’m able to eat. Having a few dietary restrictions limits me from going too crazy. Shopping in the local markets has been a fun adventure, too. Its been great fun perusing the aisles and trying to figure out what’s what. For the most part, I’ve enjoyed everything, except the octopus and the conch stew. Turns out, octopus here is prepared a whole lot differently than calamari or even the Italian frutti di mare.

Sunset up at Phare de La Caravelle

Hiking and pushing myself beyond what I thought I could do – what’s up, Point Caracoli!? This was perhaps the biggest thing of all. There were a couple of big hikes we took these past weeks that pushed me to a place I’d not been. There were times I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the end and reasonably sure I’d either A. Need to turn back or B. Collapse on the path and John would have to fireman carry me out. The hike up to the Phare de La Caravelle, then to Point Caracoli, and down to Caravelle was one we have been doing in shorter segments over these past weeks, nearly everyday, sometimes twice. The big deal though was doing the full loop and getting all the way out to Point Caracoli. Between the sun and heat, and the stamina required to navigate this challenging hike, I honestly wasn’t sure I could do it, though I kept telling myself I could. I drew upon all of my Body Mapping expertise to assist me on each of these hikes; focusing on the rhythm of my breathing and reminding myself of the space at my jaw joints, not clenching my jaw or holding my breath when in a particularly strenuous stretch of the hike, allowing my arms to swing like pendulums, free and easy at their joints, mapping my hip, knee and ankle joints with the steep hills, and remaining inclusively aware of the spectacular space I was in. I got into a nice groove with the rhythm of my steps, the click clack of my hiking poles and my breathing, finding my own pace, and I made it. All the way. Turns out, building up to the long hike with our shorter daily hikes prepared me for the epic Caracoli hike. We got to what I thought was the end and John continued walking out to the little narrow, craggy, pointy, scary edge of the world. I thought about it, decided that I would stop there, and took a seat. I looked around, took in the unbelievable view for a few minutes, and told myself I had nothing to lose. If I fell, he’d catch me. Plus, thousands of people of all ages have done this hike, and I’ve not come this far to not experience the whole thing. I knew if I could push myself I’d experience something special on top of a really great view and a bunch of cool photos: courage, confidence, strength, pride, and that feeling that I can do anything.
I made it out and back. Not gonna lie, it was scary getting out to the end and even scarier coming back down the steep, narrow rocks. But I did it.

About five years ago, my Body Mapping colleagues and I sat in the Portland airport, discussing what sorts of activities we could add to our lives to experience something brand new, map ourselves in a non-musical activity, and in some cases push us beyond our fears. I chose sailing and stand up paddle – both of which were great fun. Working past my fears with sailing and using my body in a new and different way, helped me in immeasurable ways with my performance as well as my teaching.

OK, so what’s the take away?

I’m incredibly grateful for what this past year has given me, what I’ve learned, and how it has shaped me as a person and an artist. Facing challenges head on, and accepting that the only way through something is through it. Though turning back or taking the other, easier path is an option, I choose to go forward. Sometimes it’s a put your head down and run through the pouring rain moment and sometimes it’s a slow down, breathe, take it your surroundings, and dig the pouring rain moments.
The benefits we reap when having the time and space, literally and figuratively to just be. To think and ponder the things we may not have space to think and ponder when we’re in our everyday space doing what we do. I’ve had a lot of time to think about recital programs, new ideas to bring to my teaching, and solutions to various playing related issues which I’ve in turn brought to my practice while here. A friend suggested to me to not bring my flute on this trip, and give myself a legit break. I considered it for about a day and ultimately decided to bring it. Thing is, I love to practice. I love working on the nuts and bolts of my playing. I love rolling up my sleeves and addressing the things I can’t do or would like to do better. Plus, my body and my flute love this warm, tropical climate. And, another awesome byproduct of all this hiking am swimming, my use of air is off the charts – maybe the best its ever been. I’ve had the gift of time here to explore new pieces, and practice with greater thought and detail in a way I rarely get to in my home or office practice spaces during the academic year and orchestra season. Spending a month last summer in Italy and Switzerland and three weeks here in Martinique now is like Charlie drinking the fizzy lifting drink – I feel invigorated and like I’m floating along on a brand new journey not only as a musician but with my life.

Friends, live your most sincere and authentic life. Musicians, and all artists really, this is super important. We keep trying to be and do what we think we’re supposed to be and do. Be yourself. Love yourself and be good to yourself. As someone who has spent more time than I care to admit, worrying, fearful and anxious about __________ (fill in the blank here), I’m turning my face to the sun (or warm, tropical pouring rain) in this new year and doing what I want to do. Life is short. You only get one life, so live it to the fullest.

Schedule the recital. Plan the program you’ve always wanted to play but keep putting off. Learn the hardest piece. Buy the flute. Book the trip, get on the plane, and travel somewhere new. Buy the shoes. Say hello. Take the hike. Sign up for the class. Learn a new language. Order the new thing on the menu. Go snorkeling.
Whatever it is, do all the things. Find that thing that either you or someone else has told yourself you can’t do, or maybe something that scares you a little, or even a lot, and do it.
Fear of failure and fear of success are real, and are not helpful.
Let it all go. All of it. All the negative self talk, and live.  Happy New Year!

 

Why I do what I do.

Tags

Big Magic Creative Living Beyond Fear, Classical Musician, Create Yourself, Elgar Enigma Variations, Elizabeth Gilbert, Festival Mozaic, Flute, Greg Bishop, James Paul, Jeff Perry, John Mayer, Mahler Symphony 4, Oregon Coast Music Festival, Prokofiev Classical Symphony, Rachmaninov Symphony 2, Santo Urso, Steppenwolf Theater, The Nutcracker, The Steppenwolf Theater of Chicago In Their Own Words

I’m reading two inspiring books right now:
Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, and my friend and colleague John Mayer’s new book The Steppenwolf Theater Company of Chicago: In Their Own Words. Although on the surface it would seem neither has anything to do with music – one is about a writer, her passion for writing, and how to discover the magic and creativity we all have inside us. The other, a historical look at and tribute to Chicago’s legendary Steppenwolf Theater. Turns out both are absolutely about music, 100% applicable to anyone in the arts, and fortunately for me, very relevant to my life as classical orchestral flutist.

Elizabeth speaks of the sacred vow she made to always write no matter what, and her commitment to her art. She writes about digging deep, finding out who you are and always being true to yourself. Realizing that you’re not required to save the world with your creativity – your own reasons to create are reason enough. Also, to stop complaining because it kills our creativity.

John and the members of the Steppenwolf Theater share their stories from the very beginning as high school students, the struggles of creating something from square one, juggling a full time dedication to their craft and the blood, sweat, and tears of trying to keep their heads above water financially – as young artists and as a theater company, always working as a team never as an individual, the uncertainty of whether or not what you’re doing will be a grand slam, trusting your art is damn good, and “attacking it ferociously” no matter what. There are so many quotable moments in this book. Yesterday, I read one (about a dozen times) by Jeff Perry which especially resonated with me: “…if you’re not working together, you’re working alone. If you’re not in the moment, where the hell are you? You’re in some plan, and that plan can’t be as good as what can happen spontaneously.”
I could go on, but suffice to say the irony of these two books both being on my nightstand after just coming off of two soul feeding, inspiring,  magical weeks of music making with some of the finest musicians in the field, is pretty cool.

Last Saturday night, we closed the 2016 Oregon Coast Music Festival season with a concert I won’t soon forget.  One week later, and I’m still basking in the glow of a truly remarkable Prokofiev Classical Symphony and Rachmaninov 2. Since 1998, Coos Bay and the OCMF have been my summertime musical happy place. There’s something really special that happens there, and I try to hold on to it for as long as possible upon reentry to life back home. Don’t get me wrong, I love Long Beach for about 1000 reasons. I also love getting away and spending a week at a music festival with people I only get to collaborate with once a year.
In many ways, OCMF became my grown up CSU Summer Arts. At Summer Arts, students from all over the world gather and surround themselves with other brilliantly talented, wildly creative students, as well as guest artists and teachers who collaborate, inspire and help these students create something extraordinary. At OCMF, outstanding musicians from all over the country coming together in a beautiful place, perform time honored war horses of the orchestral repertoire with a great conductor who helps us to create something special.  We’re housed by the most generous and hospitable host families in the community, who open up their homes to us and welcome us with open arms, like old friends and even family. It’s awesome in every possible way.
Last Saturday night, right before the concert began, I sat on stage looking around at my friends and colleagues, and couldn’t help but take a trip down memory lane, thinking about our shared history, the many concerts we’ve performed together over the years, the BBQ’s, the late nights at the local pub, the road trips to and from Oregon year after year, the movie nights, the beach bonfires… Some of these musicians and I go back long before Coast, some have been a part of the festival much longer than me, and for some, it was their first year experiencing the magic of “Coast.”

The Prokofiev is a huge piece in the flute repertoire. It’s on virtually every flute audition, and if you ask any flute player, they’ll tell you, it’s … a handful. That said, it’s also a super fun piece to play. Apparently, it’s also a fun piece to conduct because our Music Director, James Paul, sure enjoyed rehearsing it!  The day of the concert, we ran it twice. As a matter of fact, I think we ran it twice at each of our three rehearsals, because, as James said, “it’s short, let’s run the whole thing again…” The night of the concert, we even repeated the last movement as an encore, before intermission! Our principal flutist, Greg Bishop, and I were sure he was trying to kill us, and were frankly pretty surprised (and a little horrified) by James’ decision, but we buckled our seat belts and enjoyed the short ride in the fast machine, so to speak. The benefits of playing this enormously challenging piece a zillion times in three days is not lost on me. I was grateful for the opportunity and had a blast – thank you, James.
The Rachmaninov was, in a word; exquisite. Unfortunately, this piece sometimes gets a bad rep from musicians who have performed it many times – not unlike The Nutcracker. But, like The Nutcracker, I love it. I don’t understand the notion of getting tired of playing great works. They get played a lot because, well, they’re great. For many, it’s all about the 3rd movement, which I’ll agree, is gorgeous. But, I really love the 1st movement. I could play that piece for a week every season and never tire of it.
Back to Saturday – we truly outdid ourselves. Seriously, this concert will arguably go down in history as one of our very best. Everyone was feeling the love. Everyone’s sincere dedication to the performance was written all over their faces. You could feel it. The magic on stage was undeniable. And, if there was an empty seat in the hall, I didn’t see it. The place was packed! Our first rehearsal three nights earlier was a little rough, but then something magical happened, and it all just came together when it needed to, at the perfect moment. Every single musician on that stage was all in.

Exactly one week prior I was in San Luis Obispo at Festival Mozaic playing another gem; Mahler 4. What a piece! What an orchestra! So incredibly good. Like Coast, outstanding musicians come to this festival from all over the country. We’re only together for a short time and what we achieve is pretty fantastic. Although the entire symphony is lovely, for me it’s all about the heartfelt, take you on an emotional roller coaster, tear your heart out and make you weep 3rd movement.

 
After Festival Mozaic and before our Prokofiev/Rachmaninov concert at Coast, we played another all time favorite on our Tuesday night concert; Elgar’s Enigma Variations. Here, it’s the Nimrod variation that takes me out. Every. Time. I can’t say how many times I’ve played the Elgar or Rachmaninov but I can say it has been many, and nearly every time I’m moved to tears.

So, in one week’s time I performed Mahler 4, Enigma, Prokofiev Classical, and Rach 2, with two phenomenal orchestras. Not a bad week, I’d say. In fact, probably one of the very best.
Summer music festivals, how I love thee.

We don’t choose this life as a classical musician to achieve fame and fortune. I can’t think of one single classical musician who has said “I want to devote my life to orchestral playing so I can make piles of money and retire early!” We choose this path because we cannot imagine ourselves doing anything else that will feed our soul and fulfill us the way that music does. We choose this life because we simply cannot live without it. It’s not always an easy road. In fact, is often the opposite of an easy road, and one that requires big sacrifices. But, that’s all part of it. You have to love it. All of it. Not just the glamorous parts. Elizabeth also addresses this exact point in her book, by the way.

I have devoted many years to the art of being a classical flutist and orchestral musician. Fortunately, I knew from a very young age that I wanted a life like my father Santo Urso; as an orchestral musician. Years later, I’m still here and still just as enthusiastic about all of it. I am thankful for the opportunity play with many remarkable musicians, in many fine orchestras, often in great halls, with (sometimes) great conductors, performing (mostly) great music. Being an orchestral musician fulfills me in a way that I can’t articulate with words. There’s something about being the middle of it all, totally immersed in the sound of the whole orchestra, playing your part no matter how big or small, that fits like a puzzle piece with someone else’s puzzle piece on the other side of the stage, all the while remaining focused and flexible for whatever twist or turn the music may take in a slightly different direction, going with it, playing off one another, stretching yourself to create something just a little more special than what you did yesterday with your seemingly unimportant (but obviously very important) 3 note second flute solo. Then all of the sudden, it happens, that favorite place in your favorite movement comes up and totally takes you out.
That’s when you’re reminded, yep, this is why I do what I do.
With fearless and unapologetic creativity and enthusiasm.
Working together with an extraordinary team to make something truly remarkable, in that moment, on that stage. Just like our Rachmaninov last Saturday.

CSU Summer Arts 2016: Tell the Story

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Acting, Actor, Akira Tana, Alex Billings, Ali Ryerson, Andover Educators, Art, Barry Underwood, Bernstein, Body Mapping, Bryan Pezzone, Bryan Wagorn, California State University Long Beach, Carol Wincenc, Composer, Create Yourself, CSU Summer Arts, CSU Summer Arts 2016, CSULB, Dave Goetsch, Extended Techniques, Flute, Flutist, Ian Clarke, Jazz Flute, Jazz Flute Big Band, John Barcellona, John Wiitala, Kim Rubinstein, Mozart Flute Concerto, Music, Musician, Robert Dick, Stage Combat, Steppenwolf West, Steve Trapani, Viewpoints, Wendy Caldwell, West Side Story

I just returned home from two magical weeks at CSU Summer Arts. This Summer Arts experience was particularly special as it was my first year as a course coordinator. Having attended Summer Arts back in 1993 and 1995 as a student and then returning in 2013 as a guest artist, I knew what I was in for. In 2013, I, in my usual dramatic way, did the whole “my life has come full circle” thing. It had, in a way. Until this year when I was offered a turn at running my own course. I was told that although Summer Arts has had students become guest artists over the years, I am the first student to become a course coordinator. Now my Summer Arts life had officially come full circle.
(I blogged about the 2013 course – which you can read here, as well as a preview blog for this years course – which you can read here).

So, what is it about Summer Arts that makes it so magical?
The people.
The place.
The golden opportunity to tuck yourself away in a place filled with other like minded young artists and master teachers, focus exclusively on your art for two weeks, and create yourself.
The gift of time to allow yourself to really process everything you’re taking in, in that moment.
The chance to learn from the some of the very best artists out there.

When tasked with creating my “dream flute course” I didn’t have to think too terribly long before coming up with the artists I wanted on board. I’m pleased to say The Complete 21st Century Flutist was a huge success! Many thanks to my friends  Rachel Nardo and Joanne Sharp at Summer Arts who must’ve also had a feeling this course would be something special. I’m grateful to you and honored to be a part of the Summer Arts family.

We had a delightful time working with and getting to know 20 bright and talented flutists from around the US and Canada. Our team of artists was off the charts:  flutists John Barcellona, Ian Clarke, Robert Dick, Ali Ryerson, Carol Wincenc, pianists Wendy Caldwell and Bryan Pezzone, bassist John Wiitala and drummer Akira Tana.

Day One

 

“It’s not about you. It’s not about me. It’s about the art, the music, telling the story, the creative process, remaining open to taking in as much as you can, stepping outside your comfort zone, thinking outside the box, learning new and different ways to approach your art …”
This was expressed from day one, and again and again throughout our time together.
My colleagues and I discovered that we were often saying similar things to the students without necessarily meaning to, simply because we were on the same page. We weren’t sitting down for our daily afternoon planning session over tea and cookies saying “OK, I’m going to say this, and then you say the same thing at your class later on! Deal?”  Although some of us had worked with each other, this full team had never worked together and yet, here we were, all speaking the same language. Amazing.

Honestly, I haven’t worked so hard, slept so little, and was so energized and inspired as I was these past weeks. I’m certain I said this in my 2013 blog about Summer Arts, but it’s true. It has to be a Summer Arts thing. I mean seriously, I was getting on the average 5 hours a night, sometimes far less, and yet I’d still leap out of bed at 5:35 am to ready myself for the early morning beach hike with my students and colleagues. Let me just say, I rarely leap out of bed for anything, and by rarely I mean never. Summer Arts.

 

Many late night pedagogical discussions turned into early morning pedagogical discussions. Just when we’d think it was time to call it a night, one of us would interject with “… and then when I was 12 …”  We’d respond by easing back in our chairs, maybe turning the kettle on for another cup of tea, and settle in for the next chapter of one of our lives to share.

Some of our night classes would invariably go way overtime because everyone was digging the process and didn’t want to stop. One night, Carol Wincenc was leading a fabulous workshop on the Mozart Flute Concerti that she and her colleague Bryan Wagorn arranged for two flutes. The students broke into pairs at first, playing through each movement of each concerto, nearly every part of the orchestra represented as well as the solo flute part. We hadn’t yet finished the D Major concerto and were way out of time. Before I could finish my sentence asking for a show of hands of who wanted to keep going or call it a night, every student enthusiastically raised their hands to keep going to finish it. We went pretty late that night, but it was a huge shot in the arm. I’ll never forget the feeling in the room as 23 of us plowed through the D Major Concerto, Carol in the middle of our giant circle leading us along like the Pied Piper.
Summer Arts.
BTW, Thank you Carol and Bryan. You’ve given a tremendous gift to the flute community with these remarkable arrangements. Brava!

At our first class meeting, Ali Ryerson asked the students for a show of hands of who could improvise. One hand went up and another sort of went up after that. She said “I disagree. You all can improvise. You just did it as you went around the room, introducing yourselves.” She was right. By the end of the two weeks, everyone had developed the skills and confidence to take a solo in Ali’s Jazz Flute Big Band. It was an amazing thing to witness each of these players opening up, stepping outside their comfort zones, and trying something new – successfully.
Summer Arts.

John Barcelona is the technical clearing house for working out your … stuff … on the flute. This man has the ability to hear you play, tell you all the things you’re doing well, then tell you what needs work and show you how to fix it. John was my mentor teacher in grad school at CSULB. He did this exact thing for me nearly 25 years ago, which helped shape me into the flutist and teacher I am today. Having a teacher explain the what/why/when/how of flute playing to you is invaluable. Some can tell you what and when but not all can really communicate how and why. John can. Very well.

Robert Dick brought a ton of outside the box thinking to this course. Robert is a pioneer in the world of contemporary flute performance and composition. There are things this man can do on the bass flute that will blow your mind. Don’t believe me? Get his new CD, put on track one (stereo, not laptop) and you’ll see what I mean. Whether you are someone who performs contemporary works chocked full of extended techniques or not, there’s no denying this man is brilliant. His workshops on circular breathing, improvised cadenzas, and multi-phonics were invaluable.

Speaking of brilliant flutists/composers, Ian Clarke was a bright shining light on a cloudy day. Besides being a remarkable flutist, Ian’s works for flute are equally so, and were well represented at this course. Many of the students played his pieces – very well. What I love about Ian’s writing is that he has a diverse collection of works for flute and there is something for a variety of level of player. He is a masterclass master, with the ability to include everyone in a natural and sincere way, keeping them engaged the whole time, while still maintaining focus on the student with whom he is working. His workshop on 1000 Sounds in Silence was brilliant and looking around the room as he spoke, you could almost see the students minds opening up in front of your eyes.
Summer Arts.

The students were fortunate to work with two brilliant actors from the Steppenwolf course, Alexandra Billings and Kim Rubinstein. They introduced the flute students to The Viewpoints – 9 major viewpoints to apply as they move with one another through space and work together as an ensemble. They are, in no particular order: Kinesthetic Response, Spacial Relationship, Duration, Repetition, Shape, Architecture, Tempo, Topography and Gesture. These 9 viewpoints became a standard topic of discussion on our early morning walks with fellow teachers, guest artists, and students, as well as late night flute pedagogy discussions. As a Body Mapping instructor, this particularly resonated with me. Our flute students were getting regular Body Mapping classes at Summer Arts, and for me, this was the perfect accompaniment to that. Yet another illustration of how we all cross over, connect, create and inspire at Summer Arts.

Through it all, the common thread of tell the story kept resurfacing.

From the very first night at the stage combat presentation, the actors reminded us how vital it is to tell the story, especially important if you’re an actor swinging a rapier and dagger around at another actor. They also stressed the importance of slow, methodical work and repetition. Obviously applicable for us musicians.
Dave Goetsch from Big Bang Theory spoke at his presentation about the creative process in the writers room and telling the story. His list of tips for writers hit home for me and my students – especially the one about pitching the solution and not just a suggestion. How can we as teachers teach our students if we don’t offer them suggestions for how to fix what needs fixing?

Artist Barry Underwood showed us several stories with his beautiful and innovative photographs. His ability to combine something old with something new is pure genius. As a musician, this is the dance we do all the time – finding new works to add to our repertoire, developing new techniques on our instruments, all the while keeping hold of time honored tradition. Combining works on a program by JS Bach and Ian Clarke or Robert Dick, for example, is our version of combining the old with the new.
Summer Arts.

We as musicians must always tell the story, but it’s not always clear how to do that. Actors and writers seem to do this effortlessly, why can’t we? Why do we get so caught up inside our heads and forget about this deeper level of communication between performer and listener? We’re so consumed with the technical, the execution, and the most minute details. Of course, it’s that precise attention to detail that makes us good at what we do – but it can never ever be at the expense of telling the story.

So how did our 20 flutists tell their story? With creativity, beauty, poise, and artistry. I sat in the audience with my colleagues and witnessed each of these 20 musicians create something remarkable. From soloist to soloist, chamber group to Jazz Flute Big Band, each one of them took the stage like they owned it. Those who never imagined they could improvise, did. Each of them were 100% in the moment, inclusively aware, and digging the whole experience.
Another piece of advice I gave to them at the start of our journey together was to own their space. When they take the stage to perform whether in masterclass, ensemble rehearsal or performance, don’t come into the space as if it belongs to someone else and you are a guest. Own it. And, own it they did.

Week 2

In the wake of the atrocities taking place all over the globe, it seemed a bit self indulgent to post this blog. Honestly, I’ve been hesitating to finish writing and post it. Why would anyone care about a two week flute course in Monterey Bay when so much anger, sadness, and pain are all around us. That’s exactly why this needs to be out there. We can’t stop these horrible acts from happening, but, we can keep living our lives, creating art, making music, inspiring one another, and living in the present moment. Yesterday afternoon, as I was writing this, I received an email from my friends at Summer Arts, informing me and all of the other course coordinators that all 27 art students and 4 teachers who are currently in Nice for a three week painting course with Summer Arts, were safe. I had no idea that the events in Nice had even taken place until that email arrived. About an hour later, my husband Steve and I made our way up to Hollywood for the LA Phil’s semi-staged production of Bernstein’s West Side Story. Hardly the thing I felt like doing – going to sit in a giant amphitheater with thousands of other people – but Steve was playing with the Philharmonic so off we went. I was sure the house would be light. Wrong. It was packed – if not sold out, damn near. The Hollywood Bowl seats 18,000 people. It was quite something watching this classic work after many years, realizing how relevant it is right now. Violence, fear, guns, power. Bernstein, Sondheim, and Laurents put pen to paper on this masterpiece more than 50 years ago. Many of us have seen Bernstein’s famous quote: “This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

In a time filled with fear, I choose love, music, art, and friendship.
Right here, right now, I’m filled with many emotions as I come down from the Summer Arts high, most of which are good, some melancholy. I miss my friends old and new, the 20 awesome flute students, and a handful of other outstanding young artists whose acquaintance I was lucky to make. Who knows if our paths will cross again – I hope they do and I hope it’s at our next Summer Arts flute course. (Cross your fingers for 2018, flutists!)

To my students, I propose this:
Get out of your head and find a place deep inside yourself to communicate the music to yourself and your audience.
Trust that your art and creativity are good and speaks for itself.
Become friends with the creative process. Focus less on the goal and more on the process. (Yes, I wrote a blog about this, too … click here, it’s a good one, I promise! )
Find the story. Sometimes it’s not super obvious, but it’s there, I promise you. Find it and tell it.

Meanwhile, I will recall with fondness our two weeks in Monterey Bay, in our sacred space at the Music Hall, telling our story and creating ourselves.

Last night together

 

 

Being a Good Colleague: A guide to getting the hang of “the hang” for newly graduated music students

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Andover Educators, Bob Cole Conservatory of Music, CSULB, Oakland Symphony, Oregon Coast Music Festival, Steve Trapani

There’s a fair amount of advice out there these days for young musicians as they graduate from their beloved universities and conservatories and start the next chapter of their lives as professionals.  Navigating the murky waters and slippery slopes is not an easy task, and many might not have the courage to ask for advice (or even know who to ask for advice)  to help them learn the ropes.  This post really hits the nail on the head.  I didn’t write it, which is why I can be so bold as to make a statement like that.  My husband Steve Trapani, a professional bass trombonist, wrote this a couple of weeks ago, right about the time our semester ended at CSULB.  Read on…

Being a Good Colleague:

A guide to getting the hang of “the hang” for newly graduated music students. By Steve Trapani.

As another year comes to a close at CSU, Long Beach (this was my 10th) I find myself thinking about what is next for all of the recently graduated music majors from the Bob Cole Conservatory of Music, as well as those from all of the other music schools across the country. Much has been written on the subject of improving as a musician, but not much gets put out there on the subject of interacting with your colleagues once you start working in the business. To be sure, the vast majority of your time as a young musician needs to be spent in the practice room perfecting the craft of your chosen instrument. However, I believe it’s also important to have some guidelines to help navigate the incredibly complicated social world of the professional musician.

There was a Xerox floating around Los Angeles in the late ’80’s or early ’90’s that addressed the subject, and Jeanne Baxtresser, former Principal Flute of the New York Philharmonic, put something out a little after that. However, things have changed quite a bit since that time – the internet, YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter.

I thought that perhaps it would be useful for there to be a reminder for those that were around back then, and that maybe a new guide should be written for those not exposed to the originals that takes our current reality into consideration. By the way, lest you believe that I am preaching from some moral high ground, I have done many of these things at some point in my career and have been politely, and sometimes not politely, instructed in the correct way in which to comport myself. Some of these suggestions also come from observations on the job, and some come from cautionary tales passed on by more experienced and wiser people than myself.

Some basic stuff:

– Be respectful and courteous. You’d be surprised that something so obvious would need to be addressed, but some folks seem to forget that there are actual people around them with actual feelings. No matter how young and good you are, you are sure to be surrounded by dozens of musicians who were you once upon a time. Once marriages, mortgages, kids, and aging enter your life, yes, you too may find that you don’t have time to practice that amazing warm-up routine that impresses everyone with its speed and technical wizardry.
– Have a functional warm up that actually just kind of warms you up. Now’s not the time for the fastest, highest, or lowest notes you can play. Unless you’re playing lead trumpet on a pops set, we don’t want to hear any screeching coming from your horn. Bass trombonists (and some tenor trombonists), we don’t need to hear your pedal note exercises now either. As wonderful as it feels, fortissimo pedal F’s are just kind of obnoxious when people around you are trying to quietly work out a passage or two before the gig starts.
– Don’t practice anything remotely resembling a solo that a colleague is going to play on the gig that day. This too may seem like a no-brainer, but some people just haven’t stopped to consider the head trip that their fellow performers put themselves through when they have an exposed solo or passage to play. Nor have they thought that it might be somewhat distracting to hear someone else playing said solo in the building beforehand.
– Don’t play your audition list on stage while people are trying to prepare for rehearsal. I’m the first guy to discover that vacant foyer, lower level rehearsal room, or vacant stage and I love to take advantage of the opportunity to practice in a good space. But come on. Not when people are putting their instruments together and warming up. If people are around, stop the mock audition about an hour before the service so everyone else can prepare to work.
– If you’re new to the group, take your cues from those who have been there before. Sometimes people don’t mind if everyone is noodling around, but sometimes they do. They really do mind, and they expect for everyone to just sort of respect the mellow mood of the room before the recording light comes on. If someone asks you if they make a practice mute for your horn, shut your hole.
– If possible, warm-up at home before the gig. If not, find a corner of the parking garage, or a room in the performing space that no one is going to go through. Stairwells, janitor closets, boiler rooms, trap rooms, and unused offices make good places to get the cobwebs out.
– Try to get to the point where you don’t need to play a 45 minute routine in order to be ready to do the gig. 5-10 minutes of soft exercises should really be enough.
– Don’t shuffle, give “the foot”, thumbs up, or any other affirmation to your colleague who just played a really hard lick, unless you know the group. Some ensembles are very reserved and consider it a possible jinx if you prematurely congratulate them before the set is finished. Again, read the room. If everyone’s doing it, then ok, but don’t be the first one. You don’t want to be perceived as the possible reason that your colleague chipped a note just because you wanted to be supportive and inadvertently got inside their head. If in doubt, wait until you’re packing up your horn after the last performance before you give anyone an, “atta boy!”
– Develop a poker face for when you’re in performance. Try to not give away with your facial expression the fact that you missed a note, your stand mate missed a note, or that you’re upset with anything. Audience members are like rhinos or bulls whose eyes are drawn to any facial movements that differ from the unmoving landscape of 100 stoic classical musician scowls. The running commentary that your face is expressing will become their focus instead of the music.
– Sit still if the colleagues around you are playing and you are not. It is very distracting to be playing while people are flitting about. If you must move in order to get a drink of water or pick up your iPad, please do so without bringing any unnecessary attention to yourself.

Break time:
– This is a very potentially hazardous 10-20 minute window during which you should concentrate on taking care of “break” type business. This includes going to the bathroom, filling up your water bottle, and taking care of any paperwork that needs to be completed. Only after you’ve completed these tasks should you attempt to be social with anyone and “network”.
– Read. The. Room. Are the people who are talking together old friends? Is the group you are about to try and join talking about serious stuff? If so, pull up. Don’t go crashing headlong into a conversation in which you are not welcome. If you inadvertently find yourself in the middle of one of these situations because of an honest mistake, just stop and shut the hell up. If you made a gaff, politely apologize and leave the general area to do some break time activities mentioned above. If you’re lucky, no one will remember you.
– When in doubt, just keep to yourself. Wait for people to come up and talk to you. If no one does, don’t take it personally. This may be your first time on the job, but many of these folks have literally been on thousands of breaks and have a routine that doesn’t include making sure the new guy/gal feels ok about him/herself.
– When approached, be polite and courteous. Follow the rule of thumb of only speaking after having been spoken to. Answer questions and be friendly, but don’t take the opportunity to plug yourself or your band or your girl/boyfriend who’s also a musician. Just be cool. In time, like in any social situation, when the people are comfortable with you being around they will begin to try to get to know you.
– Find your peeps (if any) and hang out with them. Think back to the playground at grade school. When you were in 3rd grade you hung out with 3rd graders. Before you knew it you were in 6th grade looking down pitifully on all the poor scared 3rd graders. Don’t worry. Soon enough the big kids will ask you to play.
– Jokes. I’m not a particularly jokey kind of guy, but the telling of jokes fills a large amount of break time in some groups. Obviously, inflammatory jokes about sex, the disabled, and politics need to not even enter your mind during break time. If you must tell a joke, make sure you know your audience. Do not assume anything in this regard. People do get fired for insensitive remarks heard by the wrong person at the wrong time.

Internet: Oh boy, this is a tough one and the protocol for decent behavior is evolving every day.

– Tread carefully. Assume that any recording, video, picture, tweet, or blog post you make will be dissected, examined closely, and possibly eviscerated by the haters. Write the post then delete it before pulling the trigger. Examine, proofread, repeat. If you still find yourself compelled to post after doing this a few times, perhaps the recording, video, picture, tweet, or blog post is worthy to put out there for the rest of eternity. Understand that is what you are doing. Somewhere out there, there is a computer that is recording everything you post, and despite your most thorough privacy settings, it could come back and bite you. (You better believe this was the process used in constructing this post.)
– Technology will always favor the youth and each new generation brings its own set of ideas and social rules to the table. However, some of the best musicians I know, both young and old, have little to no internet presence whatsoever. You know why? Because they’re busy playing on your favorite movie, or winning that audition that you just got cut from. By and large the people you hear the least from are the ones doing the most work and having the most success. Facebook and an internet presence are necessary evils for the modern freelancer, no matter what your age, and the rules are not set. Try to err on the conservative side and proceed with extreme caution.
– The guys/gals are the guys/gals. You don’t have to live in a region for too long before you know who is doing the good work. They are likely in those positions for a reason and you have to respect that. No matter how you dress up your Facebook profile, Instagram account, or website, you have to have made a splash in the business first before you are accepted to the club. Don’t learn the wrong lesson from that fancy website or Facebook page of your favorite musician – they got great on their horn first, then they made the fancy website. You may get noticed because you’re young and hot, but sooner or later you’ve got to produce. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity by getting the shot without being able to back it up. Focus on winning competitions, auditions for summer festivals, regional orchestra auditions, and getting into a good masters program. Get established in the scene. Wait on the overly narcissistic website.
– When you start to have success, you have to balance your desire to let everyone know about it with the knowledge that music jobs are a limited commodity. You doing the gig means that others didn’t get the same opportunity. Being gracious in this regard can be tricky. On the other hand, it can be frustrating to stoically avoid self promotion while those around you seem to post about every single opportunity they have – especially if you’re doing better stuff.
– You must understand the pecking order and know who got you the gig. Acknowledge your benefactor and don’t go too crazy about posting about doing cool stuff when you know that you’re the 2nd, 3rd, or even last call on the list. Those folks above you who don’t post too much about themselves might just decide that you’re obnoxious or ungrateful and stop using you.
– If everyone around you is having a tough time, don’t do the backdoor brag about how you are just so busy that you can hardly keep up. This should be self-evident, but some folks seem to lack empathy for the mostly-suffering fate of many of their colleagues. You can be proud of yourself, but try to take the high road and celebrate your well deserved victory in private more often than you brag about your successes in public.

I recently heard someone use the following mantra when describing a way of behaving when dealing with large and varied group of people: “Don’t do stupid stuff.” I like that. The problem is that we don’t always know that what we’re doing is stupid at the time were doing it. All you can do is play the hand that you are dealt and try to make the best choice at the time. Understand that we’re all just trying to survive in an extremely competitive field. Music is a social endeavor and unless you’re planning to be a soloist, you’d better start to get the hang of “the hang”. You’re going to make missteps along the way, but perhaps with the help of a guide such as this you’ll make fewer bad ones. Maybe you’ll be saved from yourself before the stakes get really high and you lose a gig.

The best piece of advice I’ve ever heard about this subject comes from my wife, Rena Urso-Trapani’s, father, Santo Urso, who played Assistant Concertmaster with the Detroit Symphony for 46 years. He said, “Just go in there. Sit down. Do your job. And keep your ***-damned mouth shut!”

Good luck!

 

OKI’m back. You know, speaking of being a good colleague, here are some favorite moments capturing just that: Steve and I with our Oakland Symphony/Brewmaster colleagues; Steve and I; my Dad and his colleagues; a handful of the Bob Cole Conservatory of Music Faculty; more fun with Oakland Symphony; good times at the Oregon Coast Music Festival; fabulous Andover Educator colleagues; me and my friend Ben Smolen before a Pacific Symphony/American Ballet Theater rehearsal; more Oakland fun (I sense a recurring theme here…); BCCM flute faculty; and Steve and I, again.

The brewers of the Oakland East Bay Symphony (a.k.a. the whole low brass section and second flutist) L to R: Steve Trapani, Bruce Chrisp, Scott Choate, yours truly, and Tom Hornig.

One of my all time favorite photos! Dad, Sal Rabbio, and my mentor Clem Barone.

What a great team we have at the Cole Conservatory of Music at CSULB! Go Beach!

Holiday fun at the Oakland Symphony

Late-night roundtable talks at 1984 SW 5th. Represent, yo.

Pre-Nutcracker caffeine with Steve, Scott Choate, Bruce Chrisp & I

The CSULB Flute Faculty: Darrin Thaves, John Barcellona & I.

Steve & I, Nutcracker 2012.

What’s the big deal about CSU Summer Arts?

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Akira Tana, Ali Ryerson, Art, Baroque Flute, Bob Cole Conservatory of Music, Body Mapping, Bryan Pezzone, California State University Long Beach, Carol Wincenc, Chamber Music, Create Yourself, CSU Summer Arts, CSU Summer Arts 2016, CSULB, CSUMB, Extended Techniques, Flute, Flutist, Ian Clarke, Jazz Flute, Jazz Flute Big Band, John Barcellona, John Wiitala, Muramatsu Flute, Orchestral Auditions, piccolo, Rena Urso-Trapani, Robert Dick, Summer Master Class, The Complete 21st Century Flutist, Wendy Caldwell

This summer I am coordinating a course for CSU Summer Arts entitled “The Complete 21st Century Flutist.” Flutists John Barcellona, Ian Clarke, Robert Dick, Ali Ryerson, Carol Wincenc and myself, along with pianists Bryan Pezzone and Wendy Caldwell, and Ali’s rhythm section mates bassist John Wiitala, and drummer Akira Tana will come together to present a two week course at CSU Monterey Bay. I know, right? Off the charts. This group of artists is serious business.
Two weeks of flute magic in a gorgeous place.
Sounds great, right? But what’s so special about that, aside from the obvious?

Let me tell you my CSU Summer Arts story…

Once upon a time, back in the early 90’s, when flannel shirts were fashionable the first time around and I was a grad student at CSULB, my flute professor came to me part way through my first year and told me he wanted me to attend a summer flute course that he was coordinating. The course would be two weeks long, take place at CSU Humboldt, and the guest artists were Michel Debost and Julius Baker. I can’t recall exactly what I said in that moment, but I’m pretty sure I replied with a very enthusiastic “yes!” before he even finished his sentence. I, along with another CSULB flute student, and a CSULB alumni clarinet student who would attend a chamber music course with the Alexander String Quartet, would all be a part of this awesome summer event. Having only lived in California for just over a year, the road trip alone took my breath away. Three of us made the long 700 mile trek north, and the further we traveled the more beautiful it got. CSU Humboldt is a gorgeous campus, and spending two weeks in this funky (in a good way), green, lush, coastal town, among the giant redwood trees, where the air was clean and crisp and the stars were so bright at night you could reach out and touch them was kind of unbelievable for this Detroit girl, to say the least.
The course was intense. Our days were long, and were made longer by our late night trips to the practice rooms to reinforce what we had learned that day. We didn’t sleep much. I also had the extra responsibility of being John’s assistant, which was an honor, to be sure. None of that seemed to affect me, or anyone else for that matter because we all were fueled by our enthusiasm and the immense creativity that surrounded us. See, while we were doing all things flute, there were all of these other courses taking place, from a variety of genres; theater, dance, visual art, as well as our fellow musician pals who were a part of the chamber music course. We all ate our meals together, most notably with Mr. Baker and Mr. Debost, and listened with rapt attention to their meal time banter. One free afternoon, my professor John invited me over to the coast with the local CSU Humboldt flute professor Betsy, as well as Mr. Baker and Mr. Debost. Are you kidding? I get to hang out with the cool kids? I’ll never forget that afternoon, or the first time I got to see the magnificent Northern California coastal views up close. Then there were the afternoons that my best friend Rachel and I walked Mr. Baker back to his apartment on campus, made him tea, and watched TV with him. Mr. Baker was getting over Lyme’s disease and he appreciated the help and the company. We couldn’t get enough of his stories.
The course was amazing in every way you might imagine. Until that summer, I couldn’t recall a time that I was more inspired. I forged many new friendships with my fellow flute classmates, several of which are not only dear friends to this day but professional colleagues as well.

Two years later, John offered me the same sweet deal to return to Summer Arts. This time, his guest artists were a former teacher of mine and a former DSO colleague of my Dad’s, Ervin Monroe, and Jean-Pierre Rampal. Seriously? 100% yes. Sadly, Mr. Rampal had to cancel because he needed emergency hip surgery, but fortunately, Mr. Baker was available to return a second time. Two more weeks of inspiration and creativity at this beautiful campus once again. Unlike ’93,  several of us CSULB flute students attended in ’95, and we had a ball together. To this day, when I get together with my Summer Arts friends, we reminisce about our time at CSU Humboldt. The bonds we formed are strong and have truly stood the test of time. At both the ’93 and ’95 courses, I felt fortunate to be chosen as a featured student soloist and play chamber music with other flutists who shared my love and enthusiasm for music and learning from these extraordinary musicians. The rich musical experiences and life lessons I gained those two summers at Summer Arts were invaluable, and they helped shape me into a far more creative musician and artist than I was before.

When John approached me 5 years ago and asked me to be a guest artist for another CSU Summer Arts flute course, you can probably guess my reply.
Our course was fantastic. Although I was now a guest artist, part of me felt like a student. We all learned from one another and those two weeks in July 2013 were just as inspirational and musically fulfilling as the summers I spent as a student back in the 90’s. I blogged about that incredible two week course, which you can read here. Suffice to say, I thought my life had truly come full circle… until I was asked to present a course of my own this summer.
If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m downright giddy over my course this summer. If I were a student, I would totally attend this course. Why? Because it’s filled with everything a flutist needs to develop, refine, and create the player they need to be to be successful in today’s music world. Oh, wait. I am attending! Yes!

So, what will we do this time around?
Well, there will be traditional masterclasses covering the standard repertoire for flute and piano, as well as unaccompanied flute, led primarily by Carol Wincenc and Ian Clarke.
Each flute guest artist will share their personal warm-up routines, including their favorite tone and technical studies.
There will be workshops on jazz style, interpretation, and improvisation led by Ali Ryerson, who will also lead everyone in rehearsals with her Jazz Flute Big Band, which will culminate in a final performance at the end of the two weeks.
There will be workshops on extended techniques, led by Ian Clarke and Robert Dick, for all levels, not only the players for whom this is standard practice, but also for the players who are new to contemporary and avant garde music.
John Barcellona, “The Flute Doctor” will teach you how to teach yourselves and your students with his workshops on flute pedagogy.
Having a strong musician wellness component is more vital than ever these days. Over the course of our two weeks together, I will present the full Body Mapping course “What Every Musician Needs to Know About the Body.”
Other workshops and classes will include a cadenza writing workshop, a panel discussion on the various careers in music and tips for how to create or improve yours, masterclasses on Baroque style – both on Traverso and modern flute, piccolo masterclasses, orchestral excerpt classes and tips on how to prepare a professional orchestral audition, chamber music coached by all of the guest artists … and more!

Most nights there are special guest artist events which we’ll all attend.
These events will vary in genre and include art exhibits, speakers, dance performances, and stage combat.  All of these remarkable presentations are open to the public but are free to Summer Arts students. There will be one day off to explore all that Monterey Bay has to offer, and I recommend getting out there and taking it all in. There are so many things to do and see in the area. Rent a bicycle and take a ride along the foot path that takes you around the bay. The fresh air, exercise, and flute-free time will invigorate you! Take advantage of this time. And yes, students, you’ll also get to sit down in the dining hall with these remarkable guest artists and listen to their stories and meal time banter.

Walking path along Monterey Bay in Pacific Grove. Taken last week before heading to rehearsal.

 

Sounds great, right? But you might still be wondering what makes Summer Arts so unique? I’ve heard people say “Wow. Sounds like a great class, but I can’t go this year. I’ll come next time.”
There won’t be a next time. This course is truly a moment in time. This collection of guest artists, and these students, at this campus, with the other courses taking place at this same time, is not something we can duplicate again. Sure, we’ll have another flute class again, but it will likely be different artists, and it will definitely be at a different CSU campus with different students and different courses taking place simultaneously. With all that is available to you, and all the information and opportunities you have access to via the internet as well as other summer flute courses all over the globe, how do you know this one is for you? How do you know this is what you need to do with your summer?
Remember early 90’s Rena, the one who could barely wait to let her professor finish his sentence before jumping up and down saying “YES! I want to go to this class!”?
I just knew. Some little voice inside me or feeling in my gut told me that course had my name written all over it. And it did.
It was life changing.
I just read an interesting and timely article online in Psychology Today entitled “You Need to Practice Being Your Future Self.” In it, the author says a number of things that resonated with me, among them, and perhaps the most applicable to this blog of mine are:
“If you want to be productive, the first question you need to ask yourself is: Who do I want to be? Another question is: Where do I want to go?”
“… if you want to be a writer, you have to spend time writing.”
“…you need to spend time on the future even when there are more important things to do in the present and even when there is no immediately apparent return to your efforts.”

Spending two weeks, immersed in your art, surrounded by other artists and feeding off of their brilliant creativity – not only flutists, but visual artists, dancers, actors, writers – you will learn and understand more about yourself and your craft than ever before. Sometimes you need that quiet creative space to sit in so you can just absorb it. You’ll begin to learn that the same hurdles and creative struggles you face are not unique to you or music. We all share them as artists. And so, we collaborate. We create. We experiment. We open ourselves up to learning something brand new, and we grow. How many times in your life do you imagine that you’ll be able to hit the pause button and escape to a beautiful place where you can focus exclusively on your music?

If you’ve never been to the Monterey Bay area, I have to tell you, it’s spectacular. About once per orchestral season, I have the opportunity to join my friends in the Monterey Symphony and play a week with them in this beautiful place. Being a photography buff, I always take my camera and shoot as much as possible. At least once per season, I make the time to take Highway 1 home to So. Cal, driving through Big Sur, which is A. more beautiful then words can express and B. only about 1 hour south of Monterey Bay. (Side note: remember the part about getting out there and exploring on your free day, this short road trip qualifies for the top of your list!)  It’s usually on these escapades with my camera that I learn something new: being out in nature, taking the time to soak it all in and then bringing it back to my practice room. People from all over the world travel to this magnificent place, and YOU will get to spend TWO WEEKS here, studying, learning, refining, creating, and being.
So, long story short, that’s the big deal.

Don’t you think it’s time you joined us at Summer Arts?