It’s all in the bocal.

Yup, it's a bocal. I’ve been playing more English horn lately and it’s got me thinking about the importance of a good bocal.

Bocals can vary completely in sound, pitch, and stability, but finding the right combination for your horn and playing style can make a world of difference. Currently I’m playing a Laubin 3 and Hiniker 2 B11.

I really like how the Laubin sounds—covered and smooth, but sometimes it can feel small, and like I can’t really “romp and stomp” with it. The Hiniker is a lot bigger and more expansive, but I loose some of the subtleties I can get from the Laubin. I change between them to suit the situation, but ideally, I’d like a combination of the 2.

I’ve tried some Fox bocals I really liked and I’m curious about the new Ross bocals everyone’s talking about. Overall, I like a bocal that doesn’t let middle C sag, plays a “real” G#, and holds up the octaves.

If you’re interested in trying some new bocals, most oboe shops will let you have them on trial for a week or two.

My Oboe Cured the Blahs

You know when you’re kind of in a slump? Not a reed slump or an oboe slump necessarily, but just feeling blah?

I’ve felt this way the last few days or so… nothing “wrong” per se, the weather’s been good and everything is really fine. Maybe it’s a momentary lack of motivation or just too much time in the car enduring the unsurpassable Chicago traffic. I don’t really know, but I try not to get upset about it because life has ups and downs and these times (as well as the really inspired times) pass too quickly.

I am always amazed at what transpires to affect the change from blah to not blah. (Anyway, hang on here, this DOES have to do with the oboe!)

So, the day was progressing busily today just as it always does, and suddenly I felt drawn to take out my oboe and play FOR FUN. I must admit, I haven’t done that for ages and like anything, it is never good to forget what you enjoy about something in the first place. I didn’t even think about reeds, I didn’t think about much, really. I got out some solo Bach and just played, sort of using the music as meditation.

Might sound funny, but that’s what it was. It was the opposite of practicing, at least for me, because I actually was able to use the medium of the oboe for what I was feeling about everything. This meditation session didn’t last long (with 2 little ones running around it never does) but it turned my day and my mood around.

So, here’s what we all already know that refreshed me today: music is a gift, and no matter how “good” you are, you can use your playing to deal with life in a way you cannot do with anything else.

Expect the unexpected… always.

Playing two programs a week with Grant Park has had me thinking about how I prepare for a first rehearsal.

With only 2-3 rehearsals on a program before a concert, it’s imperative that every musician knows their part (and hopefully the piece) cold for the first rehearsal, so that rehearsal time can be devoted to interpretation, style, and ensemble.

Ideally, when I prepare a piece of music, the first thing I do is get a recording and listen to it while I’m making reeds or while I’m in the car to get an overall picture and feel for the work. Then I’ll listen to it with my music and a pencil and note specific tempos, solos, and touchy spots.

For a lot of the repertoire, there are traditional nuances that the printed music alone won’t clue you in on, so recordings are a great help. When I practice my part, besides getting the technical stuff down, I practice the style of the piece and interpret the printed markings appropriately.

At rehearsal, no matter how much you’ve practiced, the conductor or your colleagues will have new ideas—my teacher, Richard Killmer used to say “be prepared for anything,” meaning different tempos, articulations, anything.

As much as we prepare in the practice room, savvy musicianship and an open mind are imperative to a fluid first rehearsal. For the pieces without available recordings, this is especially true.

Expect the unexpected at a first rehearsal and be open to it, and you’ll discover that sometimes the best ideas are ones you never even thought of in the practice room.