Many thanks to those who came out to our NFA talk last night! And for those who had to miss it, I'll share the YouTube link when it's up.

Here's a snippet of my part of the presentation, where I talk about not being afraid of irregularities in baroque music:

Let's go back to the original meaning of the word "baroque", which has French and Portugese roots referring to an imperfect pearl. Although symmetry was important, baroque art also liked to celebrate a certain bizarreness. Take a look at that extravagant chalice from the Dresden royal treasures.

We can find this parallel in music too. So for example, towards the end of Bach's Bourrée Angloise in his A minor Partita, I would recommend separating the E from the 16ths and make it a pickup to the next bar. This may sound odd and abrupt at first, and goes against how it's visually presented on the page (notes barred together), but it's actually more reflective of the harmony. You'd be actually showing Bach's humour and also enhancing the character of a bourrée.

Compare playing this passage with that separation and without, and let me know what you think!

I've included here an earlier post plus an expanded section talking about the opening of Telemann's D major Fantasy: 

Wilbert Hazelzet often said, "Don't play." We train ourselves so that we "don't play" in the end.

​This sounds so cryptic at first! But in the context of music-making, he's referring to how we should internalize everything so that we no longer feel like we have to "do something". The sound, the music just flows, emanates out of us. It becomes a part of us and is not something external. In passages that are challenging technically, I have often found it's much better to have the intention of "backing off" as opposed to "I have to get this". It's about working with paradoxes. We train to do something only to let go again.

In this way, playing becomes more and more effortless and you expand your realm of expression. Also, you realize the difference between the notes you see on the page compared how they actually should sound. As an educator, I can't stress this enough, and I love seeing those "ah ha" moments with my learners when the light bulb goes on.
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For example, these dotted notes in the opening of Telemann's D major Fantasy all LOOK the same, but they certainly aren't. On a very basic level, we can say the notes on the main beats need more presence compared to the 16ths, but those main beats also have their nuances and not all beats are equal. We'll also have to temper our air on the low G#, for example, to accommodate the natural tendency of that note on the baroque flute, but at the same time still make it sound as a main beat. (this is a more complicated subject but to be continued!)
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In essence, try to get away from the notion that all notes need a full sound. Use historical articulation "türü" or "tüdü" which will bring out the gesture of that dotted rhythm much more musically. Not all notes will sound equally "clear", and that's just so beautiful.🩷🎶

I was working with a learner on this air by Bacilly and I talked about freeing ourselves from the notation. This week I also had someone say to me that the Telemann Fantasies are like boring etudes.😅

I get it. As traditional classically-trained players, we learned to read notation and execute them correctly. If you look at the notes on the page, these pieces don't LOOK like they're of high quality. What do you do with all these notes?(how boring that they're only half notes, and who writes music with only 16th notes?!) Before I got into historical performance, I definitely felt the same way. However, dig deeper and go for expressing a gesture, a movement, a declaration of the text. Say"d'amour" a couple of times - to translate that into flute-playing, we'll want to go towards the "mour" (which sounds long and open-ended), and not accent on the "d'a". Also, retract the breath on the long note and make it disappear into nothing. Don't worry about playing exactly an 8th note in relation to the dotted quarter, or that notes need to sound their full value. We need to express the text, the meaning, but not notes or rhythm.

Likewise are the Telemann Fantasies super exciting! With a bit of knowledge in music theory and combining that with varied articulation, we can decipher these strings of notes and turn them into compelling phrases. They're like a crystal with a perfect construction of shapes and forms but also a little universe with fluid energy. Break the boundaries of notation, see them only as suggestions to get you to a place that's even more fascinating!

I reposted in Facebook an an earlier post which I've done here regarding Wilbert Hazelzet's phrase of "singing virtuosity", and I'm glad to know that people have enjoyed it! Some have asked whether I can elaborate further on that. I thought to continue to use this Blavet variation as an example. 

The theme is a very elegant, melancholy minuetto, with well-written melody and bass lines. They compliment each other perfectly in terms of counterpoint and create really quite a mesmerizing song. Jumping to this last variation, we'll want to preserve that similar affect we have in the theme, but with a slight virtuosic take. Blavet didn't indicate any slurs here, but I do feel in this case slurs would help me achieve that balance of having a sense of lyricism but still with some "action". In measure 2 and similar places, these speak for a 1+3 type of grouping, and in others it's just important that one hears the original melody coming through. A 2+2 type of grouping is also effective when you want to bring a bit of texture to the passage but still maintain a lyrical flow.

Notice the crescendo and decrescendo signs above - these help us maintain the overall line, and we need to make sure our airstream is absolutely constant, and that we're able to manage and release our sound flexibly. Again taking m. 2 as an example, we'll want to keep those static notes light (F# E F#) and have the main beat notes be slightly in the foreground. However, here's a thing that's easy to miss - make sure that these main beat notes don't sound all equal. It's easy to just do the 1+3 articulation and think we're done, but in fact, it's far more exciting to differentiate and bring out the hierarchy between these very notes.

We can practice this by first playing these notes and omitting the static ones. Can you create a beautiful line with them? Some notes will receive more emphasis while others should fall back (such as on a 3rd beat). Sing with these notes. Then insert the static notes back in and try to preserve that same singing quality in the passage, which means it should have a feeling of direction, flexibility, and balance between different elements in the melodic structure. The static notes on a weak beat should be played even lighter - as Wilbert would say, "Don't play!"

Looking back, that's a funny thing with my "don't squeeze" comment in the music. We need to prepare our air properly ahead as the line goes up. A high note that's short lends itself easily to constriction of the lips and throat (perhaps the whole body!). Open downwards when going up, raise the soft palate, open nostrils, yawn. 

For me, this movement has the elegance of flying. So, fly and SING.

Above (clockwise from top left): Ornamentation examples by J.S. Bach (Clavier-Büchlein for Wilhelm Friedemann Bach), F. Couperin (Premier Livre de Pièce de Clavecin), J. Hotteterre (Premier Livre de Pièce 2nd edition), and Leopold Mozart (Versuch einer gründlichen Violinschule) 

​So I got a question about ornamentation signs, and whether there's a difference between signs used in the baroque times versus later periods, or whether different instruments used different signs. Here's a short answer - the baroque times had indeed more of a system of signs, because the style of using little ornaments was more prevalent in baroque music. However, after the classical period, a lot of these ornaments went out of fashion and so we don't tend to encounter them in later music, with a few exceptions such as trills and grace notes.

Sometimes if you look at modern reprints of earlier music, they may try to "spell out" the ornament by indicating with little notes instead of using the original sign. Unfortunately, the correctness of these are often a hit-or-miss. In addition, I believe the visual impact of notation is not to be underestimated. Signs convey much better and more efficiently the decorative nature of ornamentation. They are supplemental details of a main structure which enhance the expression of the music. This doesn't make them less important, but it's about every element having a very defined role in the entire composition. When the notes are spelled out, they often create a crowded, almost clumsy effect in the notation. We thus run into the risk of focusing on "getting the right notes" as opposed to internalizing the affect of the ornament. I certainly understand the need to have those notes written out so that the information is accessible for everyone, but perhaps a better and more pedagogical solution would be to use the signs (or as similar as possible) and include an explanatory chart with the work. AND with the right information of course!

Which is exactly what baroque composers did! These signs are often similar to those used by other composers of the time, so with some experience in reading facsimile prints, we as modern-day players learn to recognize them. We come closer to the spirit of the music when we understand that expressive connection between notation and interpretation.

Below: compare Rameau's original publication(1724) with Durand's(around the turn of the 20th century) of "Le Rappel des Oiseaux".