by Matthew Haislip
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| Dr. Matthew C. Haislip Mississippi State University |
“Ugh. I missed some notes.”
All hornists have been there. We stressed. We feared. We performed. We missed notes. So, at least in our minds—and maybe in the minds of others—we failed. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t what we love most about music. In fact, was this even a musical experience at all? Or was it a torturous humiliation ritual?
Our culture bombards each of us with a façade of confident excellence on social media. Auto-Tune and quantization have made popular music “perfect” in pitch and rhythmic time…even when performed live. Classical music videos and recordings are often edited and spliced to perfection. We rarely see the vulnerable human reality in our digital world. This can be daunting for motivated hornists of all ages.
Then we attend a live performance. Or we ourselves perform live. Reality sets in. But it is truly a beautiful human reality. I have heard many of the greatest hornists and orchestras perform live. They all missed notes. Some fewer than others. Some more than others. But what about the music? Was I not inspired beyond any recording to hear such excellence and passion coming from their bells regardless of the number of notes missed? Was I not motivated to practice with inspiration for countless years to come from what I heard them do with our instrument? Did I not also come to understand that the greatest players in the world will make mistakes too? Absolutely.
Music is a human endeavor. By definition. Humans are not consistent machines with mechanical perfection in the execution of intricate tasks. The horn’s slippery overtone series at higher altitude presents true obstacles to perfection for everyone who commits to learning the instrument. The fear of failure will either stop us in our tracks or so hinder us from passionate expression that we won’t be able to perform well. So, how can we make music with the necessary freedom to soar on the horn when we are faced with imperfections that must be met head-on to advance on our instrument?
We must change the way we approach music. Fear-based music-making is not artistic expression. Fear-based music-making is oppression. It is ugly. Even if it sounds good. The worst performances I’ve ever played came from a very fearful place. Even though some of those performances sounded good. The greatest performances I’ve ever given were great because I was totally immersed in the music. The focus wasn’t on me, at least not from my perspective. The focus in my mind was the musical material at hand and the role my horn played in each moment. I shared the music with the audience and with my colleagues. I didn’t play perfectly, but I was truly connected to the artform, and this enabled me to perform better. My accuracy was strengthened by my focus on the music instead of on me. The artform shined brightly in the room.
We as a musical culture need to celebrate the human element of music even as we strive for greater excellence in every aspect of what we do. This demands that we relinquish fear-based perfectionism in our teaching and performing. We must develop precision with freedom. We must also embrace the humanity of musicians from the audience, celebrating live music without gossiping about a missed note afterwards as though accuracy is all that matters.
To be certain, there are things we can do to improve our accuracy as hornists. We must practice diligently without distractions. We must continue to train our aural proficiency beyond our ear training courses. We must perform live in front of people to become more comfortable doing so. But when these skills are pursued with a focus on the concept of sharing a musical idea with other human beings, we build the subconscious flow of playing our instrument artistically with freedom. We can then take this freedom to the stage to share it with others. As my teacher, Randy Gardner, wrote about accuracy on page 109 in his fabulous treatise on brass playing, Good Vibrations:
Messages sent from the brain to the body must be positive. Negative messages such as, “Don’t miss!” or “Oh no, here comes that passage I always miss!” or “If I miss any notes in this passage, I’ll be out of a job” invite negative results. Questions such as, “What will the conductor (or other important people in the audience) think of me if I miss this…?” significantly increase a musician’s probability of being inaccurate. Clear your brain screen of all verbal instructions or thoughts, and fill your brain screen with clear sound images. Hear powerfully what you intend to produce!
When we perform, we channel music to the audience with whom we share it. By removing “us” from the equation in our focus, we communicate musical sound directly from the composer to the audience. We may make mistakes. But what about the music? If music was shared free of fear and oppression, that’s a win for humanity in my book.
I’m just one person, but I want to do my part to keep the human element at the center of artistic expression as much as possible in my own little world. Let’s freely share our music with other beautifully human people.
