Interview with Frøydis

Frøydis Ree Wekre in conversation with Lindsey Stoker on the publication of her new book, Collected Writings
What made you decide to write a book like Collected Writings?
I like to write, I like to try to explain things in writing, I like to save time with students by having notes ready to help with various issues (‘issues’, not ‘problems’). The little notes and articles have gathered over 25 years at least so it has been in the back of my mind to have them collected up and gathered together in one place.
Also there are some controversial topics, topics that professional people in the brass world don’t agree on 100%; it’s difficult to get those through in the context of other peoples’ masterclasses as that is considered impolite, but I would like to raise my voice against a few things where I think people are being too dogmatic. For example, there is a little chapter on buzzing and another on support which in some countries are considered normal but in others are considered ’illegal’ or just wrong.
What kind of readers do you have in mind?
At first I was thinking about my students or ex-students, but when I saw the book I realised that it is quite serious and in a way, heavy. I think I’m aiming at my colleagues, teachers and performers, and preferably those who have been out in the real world for a little while, or a long while.
The chapter on communication with musicians offers thoughts on how we communicate in an effective way without people being offended. I don’t have the answers, but at least I have the courage to ask the questions. Maybe someone can take it further and I can learn from them.
Some chapters can be used for any student, for example intonation, but when we’re dealing with the difference between art and craft, then we’re out swimming in the ocean.
There’s more pages about teaching than about anything else; teaching is very important and can be so many things, it’s not automatic that you are a good player and therefore a good teacher.
Why did you choose to self-publish this book?
I wanted the possibility to afford to be able to hand it out for free. I like that feeling of ownership; I am the one publishing it and printing it, giving it to those I think deserve it or need it, who maybe will understand some of it and are interested in it. I can also sell it for a low price. I do like to share and it fits with a saying my mother used often, ‘noblesse oblige’, that “noble” people (meaning blessed with some talent, or luck, or both) should be obliged to do good, and although I am not so much doing good in the health department say, I would like to do good in the music and teaching department.
You have just turned seventy nine, have you retired altogether from performing and teaching?
I have retired from performing but I do like to practice. It’s a good feeling, I like the feeling of muscles in my mouth. I like the feeling of being able to pick up the horn and play one or two notes when I teach, that’s also why I like to stay in shape. To retire from performing was hard because I really enjoyed performing, but things started to get more difficult, I don’t know whether it was age itself, or I didn’t practice smart enough, or I didn’t practice the things I thought I had under control, it’s difficult to say. As for teaching, I don’t think I’ll ever retire as long as people keep asking for lessons or invite me to coach. If I can help then it’s also very gratifying for me, and the contact with the young is so valuable.
What are the key things that you would like to communicate through this book?
Firstly I would like to communicate the importance of remembering the artistic dimension. In the world of brass there are many good players but there are more artistically good players, for example on the violin or flute, who are exploring all the artistic possibilities of their instrument. If you play the horn it seems it’s enough to play in tune, on time, accurate, with a good sound, and clean articulation, and maybe good slurs, but for my taste there’s not enough people who dare to take chances, who dare to sing. I'd like people to think about what is the difference between good craft and high level artistry.
The second main thing I’d like to discuss is teaching; what is a good teacher, and being your own teacher. If you want to be a good teacher for yourself you had better shape up in that department. In the area of performing that includes having a good plan, a plan A and a plan B, why do we get nervous and what we can do about it.
The third thing is intonation, which I think needs more attention than is usually given. Maybe I need to write about this some more, “Whatever happened to melodic intonation for brass”?
What qualities do you think account for your enduring appeal as a teacher?
I think I have the urge or talent to be a good teacher in my blood. I think I have it from my grandfather, or my mother, and from various sources in my family history who have been known as good teachers in other subjects. My mother was a piano teacher for children, one of whom became the minister of culture. My grandfather was a school teacher and was able to get people energised and enthusiastic about their subjects. I think it’s something that you have to have, the inner desire to share and to help. I want to share knowledge that I have accumulated over the years, in my case from good teachers, good colleagues, good conductors and soloists that I have worked with. I share this and try to encourage young people that this is the level that you have to go for if you want to make a difference in music. You have to have something to share, it’s not enough just to be helpful. I had a compliment once from someone in New York that I was ‘demanding in a non-threatening way’. I don’t give up, but I don’t want to scare people either. Sometimes you have to back off, but if you see that the potential is there to make this more interesting, in the moment, then I like that, it’s like a sport. For teaching I see three things that you need; a good musical plan, technique to realise that plan, but you also need confidence, and a teacher is responsible for helping in all three areas. Although you could say that the students are responsible for themselves, I think that most people need help at some point. And usually when I teach I am in a good mood, which is important, because if you are sour and tired and angry then your teaching is not going to be very fruitful. It’s not artificial, thankfully it comes naturally with me.
What is your number one tip for up and coming players?
Perhaps my number one tip is about stamina, mental stamina, don’t give up. There are examples of people who move up to a certain learning plateau and then suddenly they are there, one step up, and don’t know when that happened. But when they are on those plateaus they have to be patient and have the stamina, and of course seek out the best possible teachers, not necessarily those who are available, or the best players, but those who are best for them, those who they can trust to give good advice.
What were the qualities that you admired in your teachers?
For my two most important teachers of the horn, I admired the musicianship and humanity the most. Wilhelm Lanzky-Otto was really big on phrasing, he wrote things in the part, he was always playing things on the piano, it was all about the music. In Russia, Vitaly Bujanovsky was also ‘about the music’ but at a more demanding level. He was more about the art than just the craft of musicianship. Both were good, and one built on the other. For the humanity aspect it was a sense that they created a relationship with that person. It’s very important that there is a feeling that they care about you. You never know where your students are going to get.
The book is like a testament, what I want to say now, to my colleagues and musicians. It was a long term plan and then the occasion came when everything else was cancelled.

This interview between Frøydis Ree Wekre and Lindsey Stoker appears here with the kind permission of the British Horn Society and the author.
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Pedagogy - Play and the Play Room
by Mike Harcrow
PLAY
Most people enjoy watching children play. Children live in the moment, unconcerned about anything except what they are doing. Somewhere in the musical development of aspiring young performers, many students are trained away from the simple concept of play by what teachers call practice—the tedious routine revisited at “that” time of day and monitored by a clock that seems not to move—when we pull out the Kopprasch and reinitiate the chore of repetition, hoping we can pick up where we left off yesterday but disappointed when we find that there is ground to regain. There is little joy in this and little progress much of the time (and often little encouragement from parents who audibly bemoan the “wasted investments” made into little Johnny or Sally’s “artistic development”), so there is little motivation for the student to continue. Is it any wonder that retention rates are so low in school music programs and even in lesson studios?

Rote practice has its place—that is another discussion—yet we are, fortunately, living in a time of wonderful and inspiring transition. Everyone seems to be looking for ways to keep themselves motivated in addition to keeping students not only involved, not merely just interested, but actually eager to come to rehearsals and, better yet, to practice their assigned materials at home or in the practice room. The trend I have seen—in offerings like Karen Houghton and Janet Boyce Nye’s Recipe for Success, the books and Horn Call columns on creative playing by Jeffrey Agrell, the “excerpt etudes” by Brett Miller and others, and more writings, presentations, and performances by Pip Eastop, John Ericson and Bruce Hembd, Arkady Shilkloper, and numerous others…not to mention the wonderful jazz improvisations, pop-song covers, and multi-track arrangements of all sorts of music by players from around the world which have flooded covid-era YouTube and social media—is wonderfully encouraging. I applaud all of this, and I see it as a big, joyful leap in the right direction for both players and players-in-training. What we must do now is shift such concepts from the advanced player who has rediscovered his/her creative freedom to the developing player, perhaps in time to stave off the Way of Drudgery before it ever starts.
I am not really writing to present anything newer than what our excellent colleagues are doing currently or even what Herr Kopprasch offered in the incipits we see over many of his etudes suggesting transpositions or changes of rhythm and/or articulation for additional productivity. I simply want to offer this one suggestion: let us minimize or even eliminate the use of the word practice and replace it with the word play. After all, we do play our instruments. (We have, in many American schools, been able to eliminate the old aggressive word attack [used for initiating a note] by substituting the more-accurate term release.) Take this suggestion and be creative with it, for yourselves and for your colleagues and for your students. You will do far more and much better for your own time and space than specific things I can offer from my time and space (but I will present some ideas here shortly anyway, just as a starting point), and we will all learn and grow, and the exchange-of-ideas we seek and enjoy will happen.
In the wonderful new facility where I teach, we have two levels of state-of-the-art practice rooms in addition to continuing access to practice rooms in the old music building; but my students no longer hear me call them practice rooms. I have, over the past few years, taken to calling them playrooms. While the shift in terminology has generated a dramatically more positive approach to time spent in these rooms, it has not eliminated the need to teach even university students how to practice, i.e., play. It is easier now, though, to point them to those theme-and-variation options in Kopprasch as well as to endless internet links to great lessons and performances available for nothing more than the cost of the time required to watch and learn. When I suggest that my students take apart the musical toaster with which they are struggling, it leads to a truly wonderful and ongoing conversation on what play can really be.
THE PLAYROOM
A playroom requires toys, most or all of which are now on our phones: high-quality audio-video both for listening and recording, your camera as a mirror, tuner and drone, metronome, and, of course, access to the internet for recordings and play-along sites and other helpful apps. (The old clunky versions of these will work fine, too! But alas, even cellphones do not grease our slides for us.) These toys will help us as we play games with the gameboard (the music) in front of us; and as we play, we will become much more engaged in our re-energized learning process…and it could be so much fun that we even lose track of time!
What is challenging? A scale run or awkward technical passage? Take it apart: play smaller, sensible note groupings; play these blocks with different rhythms and articulations; play them slower and faster; move the starting point over by a note, then by two, and so on; transpose the blocks; invert them; retrograde them (i.e., play them backwards); play them in retrograde-inversion with snappy rhythms and crisp tonguing and with extreme dynamic contrasts a tritone away from the original key. Take the game as far as you are able (or want) to go, then begin putting the blocks back together.
Is it range that is challenging? Play smaller bits with some rest in between them. Transpose the passage down to C then work your way up to horn in F, then G or even A—keys beyond what is written—even if this process takes a few weeks to complete!
Is it finger-tongue coordination that is challenging? Eliminate one aspect of the passage—perhaps, in this case, the tonguing—and slowly add it back in with all the coolest articulation patterns you can imagine. Swing it! Add a rhythm generator to your play—be Cuban Pete with a rumba beat! Sing your music. Dance your music.
Find patterns (in the rhythms, the fingerings, the harmonic series, etc.). Connect the puzzle pieces of form (the repetition and contrast in the piece); learning the form can condense the learning time, and it helps immensely with memorization. Write lyrics to the music, or write down the story you imagine as you play the concerto or sonata movement.
Sit to play. Stand to play. Stand on one leg to play. Play in new locations. (I have found my students in our various “locked” performance venues, outdoors, in stairwells, in the freight elevator, even in the men’s room…“for the great acoustics,” I was assured!) Turn the music upside-down to play—that will make you focus! Take a lap around the building and come back to play. Listen for dead spots in the regular or temporary playroom, and find those spots with the best resonance, enjoying each for what you learn about your sound and yourself.
This is a good place to stop. You’ve got the idea, and you are creative. Try the unexpected. Engage your curiosity. What will you do when you close this column and go to your playroom?
…and, as an incentive, send us your creative playroom experiences—high-resolution photos and YouTube links are great! Include your name and a line or two about the thought behind your play. The most creative and highly-publishable submissions will be posted in upcoming editions of the e-Newsletter. Send your best play to hornandmore@hornsociety.org, and please put “BEST PLAY” in the subject line. Have fun!
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