At the end of his recital, Benny Grenimann thanked two of his teachers, Stephen Horenstein, whom I've mentioned before. Steve was also one of my teachers, and I have enormous respect for him as a versatile and creative musician, and Eli Digibri, a superb saxophonist, whom I have heard several times and who has consistently bowled me over.
Benny thanked Eli specifically for emphasizing emotion in his playing, which is so obvious that most teachers overlook it, and most musicians ignore it. Playing an instrument is fantastically difficult - as you can tell when you try to play a new instrument (like me on flute). The things you have to pay attention to are innumerable, from your posture and breathing through you fingering and embouchure. It's psychologically impossible to devote your attention to all of those things at once. You have to work on a few of them until they are more or less automatic, and then move on to others, until they, too, are easy to do, and each time you move forward, you encounter new things that demand your full attention.
My flute teacher, Raanan Eylon, has gone to Europe for the summer, so I'm trying to practice and improve without his close guidance, by remembering the things he's told me and applying them. It's not a bad thing to be on your own for a while. It gives you a chance to internalize the things you've been working on without having to include new demands upon your playing. Mainly I'm trying to find the center of the notes immediately and to produce a robust tone (not necessarily a loud one). This means paying very close attention to the very groundwork of playing.
This morning, when I was practicing, I noticed a puzzling flash of fear, puzzling because it wasn't fear of not hitting a note (am I going to get that high F# when I need it?) but, actually, fear of playing a note too well. What was that about?
As I continued playing, I tried consciously to play fearlessly, and, surprisingly, I found myself more aware of my emotions while I played, aware of both the way the music made me feel while I played, and also of the emotions I wanted to express.
This is a very exciting development!
To a degree it is connected to the specific moment in Israeli life, a difficult time of sadness, anger, and frustration, while Israeli soldiers are dying in action, and Gazans are also dying. This crisis has made me emotionally very vulnerable, and I guess it's showing in my attitude toward music, too. I hope this crisis will pass, and that my country will find a way to make peace, and I also hope that I can maintain some of the gains I've been making as a musician by noticing my feelings as I play.
Benny thanked Eli specifically for emphasizing emotion in his playing, which is so obvious that most teachers overlook it, and most musicians ignore it. Playing an instrument is fantastically difficult - as you can tell when you try to play a new instrument (like me on flute). The things you have to pay attention to are innumerable, from your posture and breathing through you fingering and embouchure. It's psychologically impossible to devote your attention to all of those things at once. You have to work on a few of them until they are more or less automatic, and then move on to others, until they, too, are easy to do, and each time you move forward, you encounter new things that demand your full attention.
My flute teacher, Raanan Eylon, has gone to Europe for the summer, so I'm trying to practice and improve without his close guidance, by remembering the things he's told me and applying them. It's not a bad thing to be on your own for a while. It gives you a chance to internalize the things you've been working on without having to include new demands upon your playing. Mainly I'm trying to find the center of the notes immediately and to produce a robust tone (not necessarily a loud one). This means paying very close attention to the very groundwork of playing.
This morning, when I was practicing, I noticed a puzzling flash of fear, puzzling because it wasn't fear of not hitting a note (am I going to get that high F# when I need it?) but, actually, fear of playing a note too well. What was that about?
As I continued playing, I tried consciously to play fearlessly, and, surprisingly, I found myself more aware of my emotions while I played, aware of both the way the music made me feel while I played, and also of the emotions I wanted to express.
This is a very exciting development!
To a degree it is connected to the specific moment in Israeli life, a difficult time of sadness, anger, and frustration, while Israeli soldiers are dying in action, and Gazans are also dying. This crisis has made me emotionally very vulnerable, and I guess it's showing in my attitude toward music, too. I hope this crisis will pass, and that my country will find a way to make peace, and I also hope that I can maintain some of the gains I've been making as a musician by noticing my feelings as I play.
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