Welcome to my Studio
Prepared or underprepared, you’ve come to play. This is the moment you’ve worked toward all week, and you have a feeling halfway between going to the doctor and preparing to run the marathon. Like the doctor, it’s my job to diagnose and prescribe. Like the patient, it’s your job to follow through with the prescription! Last week, the "prescription" was written on some Paris Conservatoire materials: a Rose etude, the Hamelin scales and exercises, and a couple of original concert works. They’re chosen with your particular needs in mind; the student who takes the lesson the hour before you is working on something completely different—possibly Baermann, and a modern piece for clarinet alone.
The performance begins. Marathon indeed because it is, optimally, your very best and best demands effort. Playing the clarinet requires sheer physical stamina. Did I practice enough on this etude? Will I make it through the slow movement with the breaths I marked? Can I play the roulades in the concerto elegantly and artistically enough to satisfy two pairs of ears?
Problem solving together, magic can happen here. A technical breakthrough, a musical insight, some of the finest playing of your life.
Each of my students, whatever her level of proficiency, is judged only against herself. The goal is to surpass your personal best, and what I look for is musical growth.
Some battles are hard won, and much to be complimented. There’s generally positive reinforcement; praise for true accomplishment, goal setting. "Good work!" And occasionally "That’s not good enough for you." In the more advanced stages, you’ll wonder how long it will take for you to get it just right.
Your basic task, as a player, is the development of a glorious sound. The sound begins in your ear, and is nourished by your breath. What is your sound concept? It doesn’t matter how many notes you can play, or how fast you can play them, if nobody enjoys hearing you! My mentor, Rosario Mazzeo, was such a fanatic about breath and its role as the sculpting medium of musical phrases that he used to say "90% of fingering problems are actually breathing problems!" Together, we generally start with the sound, for no matter how technically proficient the student, the tone is central to the musical meaning. Like the emergent bel canto singer of grand opera, the secret of an expressive technique is the development of a fluent legato. Only when this requirement is met, can staccato articulation be truly precise, supported, and crisp, or fingerwork dextrous and reliable.
Each student is an individual here. You come with different personal equipment—you leave with your own words of caution. The ladder of artistry is infinite. Whatever time you spend here is only part of a lifelong journey toward artistic perfection. Come see what the journey looks like from this vantage point.
