by Marty Schlenker
Dear Fellow Amateurs,
When we left off in the previous column, I’d had my first lesson in over two decades and experienced several revelations:
- The playing benefits begin when you make the commitment to return to being a student, before your lessons actually resume;
- You may not sound like you think you sound, and the things you do to produce the sound you’re shooting for may not have the intended effects;
- As a result, you may expect one kind of direction in your lesson but receive another.
In my first lesson back, it was tonguing…too much, and too far forward. Great, I thought…something to work on!
If I was in high school or college again, it would be easier to take the guidance and run with it. Zip from lesson straight back into practice room and start adjusting. Instead, I got on a plane…not immediately, but within a day or two, because my job requires me to spend about half my time in Los Angeles, even though home and lessons are in Pennsylvania. And so began horn hopscotch.
My primary horn is a pre-letter Conn 28D, medium fixed bell, unlacquered, with a 17.75 mm Houghton 101 mouthpiece. With the fixed bell, I’m not inclined to fly with it. Luckily, I’d let Dennis Houghton talk me into a new flare for my century-old Alexander 103 a couple of years ago. It was a great decision both acoustically and practically. With the bell cut, I chose an MB9 case. The flare case unzips from the main case, making it very easy to fly with, even in a smaller regional jet that forces everyone to gate check their rollaboard luggage. So, the Alex became my California horn. I use a Holton Farkas DC mouthpiece that I’ve had since high school with it. It’s a great combination for thickening the light, zingy Alex, but the inside rim diameter is noticeably narrower than my H-101. More on that contrast later.
My California practice space is the office lunchroom. The fun part is that it’s very cathedral-like, with high ceilings, hard surfaces (glass, block, concrete) and lots of right angles. The not-so-great part is that to avoid impeding the company’s work, I have to finish by about 6:45 a.m. Pacific time. I aspire to “stay on Eastern time” when I’m out there, and being forced into this very early practice window helps, but aspirations always outpace execution, so California practice is a bit spotty—but full of flattering reverb when it happens! If you ever find yourself saying, “Tell me again…why’d I ever choose this treacherous instrument??” find a place to practice that answers you back with every note.
Back to tonguing. Not just in music but throughout life, I tend to overcompensate when I get redirected, and my tonguing change was no exception. I went searching for the highest-up, farthest-back point on my palate that my tongue could reach. Interesting. I kind of liked what I heard, with the percussive strike that I had put on the front of most notes replaced at first with a kind of squish. But I could no longer find notes that were once secure, and felt as if I had to reset frequently as I went up and down scales. I was going in the wrong direction from the increased flexibility I sought.
I eventually got things under control with a happy medium around the first ridge on my palate, and I started paying a lot more attention (per lesson advice) to what part of my tongue, and how much, was actually touching the palate. Less touch and a more vertical orientation of the front of my tongue definitely helped me get some control back. Travel and other distractions turned this into about a five-month process.
Unexpectedly and fascinatingly (to me at least), adjusting how my tongue addressed my palate changed the shape of my oral cavity and the trajectory of my air, and worked muscles toward the front of my cheeks that I’d obviously not engaged enough before. I’ll talk more about that soon and leave you with this: making a significant change to one aspect of your playing will likely change other aspects also.
I was pleased to hear from Richard Davis of Franklin, TN after the previous column. Like me, he’s a business professional and committed amateur hornist. You’ll get to know him more in an upcoming column. Be like Richard—get in touch and tell me and the world about your playing!
See you next time,
Marty Schlenker, Amateur Hornist
