A Useful Ear-Training Exercise

Helmut Eisel, a German Klezmer clarinetist, one of the teachers at the workshop I just attended in Jerusalem, directed useful sessions in improvisation (as did Raul Juarena, a master of the bandoneon, a kind of button accordion widely used in tango). Helmut, without knowing it, echoed a lesson of my musical guru, Arnie Lawrence: you don't play an instrument, you become an instrument. This is how Helmut interprets the word "klezmer," a Yiddish word that comes from two Hebrew words: kli (a vessel or tool) and zemer (song). In Helmut's view, all true musicians are klezmerim, vessels of song. I'll buy that.
However, this is a challenging proposition even for very gifted musicians, though you see and hear it when great musicians play. Emil Aybinder, whose workshop I attended, plays the accordion, a heavy, clumsy instrument (in my opinion) as if it were a part of his body, without thinking about where his fingers should go, how he should move the bellows, or what sound quality he wants. He just plays. The music flows out of him.For a musician of Emil's skill, there appears to be no gap between what his inner ear imagines and what he plays on the accordion. That's the result of years of intense, committed practice, based on inborn musicality.
Getting back to Helmut's lesson, although we were at a klezmer workshop, he gave a session about playing the blues - elementary but helpful for me, even though I've been playing blues for a long time. (Incidentally, it's important to be able to learn from music classes even when they are at a level far more elementary than yours; one must always go back to fundamentals.)
In his class, Helmut suggested the following exercise, claiming that within weeks it would take effect, and we would be able to improvise well: (1) play a note on your instrument; (2) sing that note; (3) sing a simple melody starting on that note; (4) play the melody on your instrument. (5) start over again.
I'm not a natural musician. I find it difficult to play by ear. I don't like the way I sing. But I'm determined to keep at Helmut's exercise. I've been doing it with the flute, which is somewhat difficult for a man who sings an octave below what the flute plays. I've only done it for a few days, so I can't vouch for the results yet. But I'm hopeful.
Incidentally, this exercise is similar in many ways to one suggested by Robert Dick, who has posted a lot of useful clips on flute technique, one of which is to hum into the flute while you play.

Report from Yet Another Workshop

This summer I took part in the annual Klezmer workshop at the Jerusalem Academy for Music and Dance: 7 days of playing music with other musicians. I took part in the Balkan Music ensemble, led by the accordion virtuoso, Emil Aybinder. Emil was not particularly interested in me as a musician, as he saw his purpose as encouraging the young musicians in our group to practice fanatically in order to become successful professionals. I didn't mind.For me, participating in the workshop was confirmation that I can learn to play a new style  of music, and I can grow as a musician, even at my advanced age. Also, playing with young musicians is a kick.

Here's a video of one of our performances.

Among the teachers at the workshop were two world class clarinetists: Corrado Giufreddi and Franklin Cohen. I attended their master classes and saw and heard how they work with young musicians, and I also heard them perform. What a privilege!

In addition, a quartet based in Munich also came, the Gitanes Blondes. They have played a lot with Giora Feidman, one of the musicians responsible for reviving Klezmer music. Playing with them was fun and inspiring.

Best of all, these great musicians were all friendly and accessible, modest, if you will.

My Baritone Saxophone as a Vehicle

Gerry Mulligan was the first person I ever heard of who played the baritone saxophone, and I wasn't drawn to it. I admired the tenor playing of Sonny Rollins, and when I talked my parents into buying my first saxophone for me - I was probably in tenth grade - I acquired a Selmer Mark VI, which I sold, to my lasting regret, when I decided I would never play saxophone again.
Much later, when I took up saxophone again, I heard someone playing a baritone sax in a quartet and couldn't imagine why anyone would play that instrument.
Nevertheless, a few years after that, I bought a clunky Grassi baritone from a musician who was retiring from the police band, and I played that for a while.
Then, when my father passed away, in 1992, I got a bit of unexpected cash with the settlement of his will, and bought my present instrument, a Selmer Superaction 80, with which I am more or less in love.
It took me a long time to sell the Grassi, and I don't miss it.
Owning a baritone saxophone is a bit like owning the ball when you choose up sides for a pick up game: you've got to be included, even if you aren't a great player.
I've played in wind orchestras, big bands, and saxophone quartets because I'm the one lugging the bari - and I've become a decent player.
In a few hours I'm going to attending a music workshop at the Jerusalem Academy of Music as a baritone player. True, the higher instruments get to play the melody more often, but for every baritone sax there are at least six altos and twelve clarinets.
An instrument takes you places both musically and physically.