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 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.

Playing the baroque flute requires an incredible amount of nuanced technique in handling the breath. We have to create our own resonance on an instrument which can't take much air and air pressure. I always tell my learners to use a slow, “warm” air that simply activates the instrument just enough to sound and not more than necessary. This is, of course, such a challenge when we're under high pressure – the nerves kick in and maintaining a slow, steady airstream may feel next to impossible. It would be so much easier to just blow! But the baroque flute is about resonance, not loudness. And even if you're thinking about loudness, you'd still have to start with resonance first. 

Also, we don't typically use vibrato and taking care of notes like F natural or G# demand a very particular kind of airstream. Any unevenness in sound (in the negative sense) is quite noticeable. Again when our nerves get the better of us, when we're unable to maintain that slow air to create a “glow” in the sound, everything sounds a little dull and fuzzy and it's very hard to be expressive with this type of tone quality. Articulation, dynamics, intonation, phrasing (everything?!) – they all depend on a specifically centered, supple sound that gives us the technique and flexibility to play expressively. 

Another common challenge is playing in a space with dry acoustics. One problem is that everything can easily sound kind of the same in such conditions. Also, any unevenness or impurity in the sound will be immediately reflected back to us. We then get a little uneasy with that feedback. We stress and it becomes harder to maintain the proper airstream. There can be a variety of issues that robs our resonance, but we keep feeling like we need to do more to be expressive. Ultimately, the whole thing becomes a vicious circle, as the baroque flute cannot take much pressure before the sound cracks, gets disrupted, or intonation goes awry. I've been there so many times so I'd like to suggest something which may seem counter intuitive at first – create expressive contrasts in the soft dynamic range. People will listen differently and a concentrated, attentive piano is more advantageous and effective in such a space.

Keeping these sound issues in mind will ultimately make you a better flutist, competition or not. Really listen and observe your airstream in practice, see if you can use an even slower air to achieve the same result, perhaps also less air. In all aspects of your technique, can you play USING THE MINIMUM TO ACHIEVE THE MAXIMUM? Are you aware of the super fine muscles of your embouchure to bring more center and brilliance to your sound? (again, work with resonance, not loudness). 

We only need a SLIGHTLY faster airstream to play the higher register, so be careful to not overshoot. Again, this happens super easily when we're under stress. And for me, I get stressed even more when I hear my own sharp and scratchy high notes while performing!!😅 To combat that, I like to “think low as I go high”. Lower your lower jaw, open your nostrils, use the slowest air possible....again, use the minimum to achieve the maximum.

Another tip I'd like to offer is something regarding tempo. It's natural to play a little faster when we get nervous. Or maybe a lot faster, to the point that we lose control. All perfectly human. When studying a piece, how about finding ways to bring spirit and liveliness through other means first, and consider tempo as the very last element? Remember that tempo in itself doesn't express much, and what we learned in our young modern years as “tempo indications” were originally indications of affect. Can you show joy with your articulation? How can you let the audience hear and understand that peculiar phrase? And even in fast passages - can you find deepness in them and produce a SINGING VIRTUOSITY? (a concept I learned from Wilbert Hazelzet) Remember also baroque music is about changing affects - are you giving yourself (and the listener) enough space for showing those wonderful changes, or does it feel like the notes are just flying by? 

Speaking of which, not only does the technique of stopping the sound between notes work wonders by making your articulation lively and expressive, it'll also help you slow down and gain security in fast passages. For me, that's a must-have multivitamin.

​It's impossible to cover all grounds, but I'd like to get this out to people while the experience is still fresh. I hope by thinking and working through these concepts, you'll acquire some helpful tools. See if you can get to that place of being where you're able to observe yourself while performing. Direct yourself gently to slow down that air. Go for resonance. Slow down your fingers (and slow down more than you think!), use articulation to help you stay grounded. Keep your air going and going “long” to resist it from getting "shorter" (again due to nerves). And besides all this playing technique - stay in the music! No matter what happens (and often it isn't as bad as you may perceive it), keep telling the story and immerse yourself in your interpretation. That'll help keep you away from distractive thoughts which can make you fall. 

Feel free to ask questions, start a conversation thread here, or write to me directly. Others may just be thinking what you're thinking!

We all keep trying, keep refining, keep PLAYING.

Here's a recent post I did on Facebook, reaching out to those who appreciate Rudolf Tutz and Wilbert Hazelzet. It all began with some photos I did with my fancy socks, which people seemed to appreciate. You'll see the connections more clearly though once you read on: 

Still no Christmas socks, but I've got two walruses enjoying a starry sky.

When I began my historical flute studies in The Hague, I met the renowned Austrian traverso maker Rudolf Tutz for the first time.❤️ I mean this in complete and absolute endearment, and that is, his immense stature and unmistakable moustache reminded me exactly of a walrus 😅....The 415 flute I mostly play on is from him and it has taken me through thick and thin in life. It has a very hard-to-repair crack and I hope I'll never jinx my luck with it.🤞

✨As the 2nd Advent approaches, I'm reminded of the second movement of JS Bach's B minor sonata for flute and obbligato harpsichord. As Wilbert Hazelzet once so eloquently put it, it's a piece about enlightenment and I think that's such a beautiful concept. Maybe that's what the "Largo e dolce" means - large in our phrasing, in our vision of the music, with a sweet and heartfelt expression. Here's to Bach, the stars, the universe.🌟

You can find me on Facebook under Teddie Hwang Music and Photography. Please like and follow!