February is my month o' rehearsals. I think I only have four days this month without some kind of chamber or orchestral rehearsal. Which is awesome because it means I'm working and seeing people and blowing air through my (freshly cleaned!) horn, but it can also mean Rehearsal Rut: feeling like you can't see the forest (the performance) for the trees (really detail-oriented rehearsals). A couple days ago in a chamber rehearsal, one of my colleagues introduced us to this rehearsal technique called "Live, Breathe, and Die." It's pretty simple; you play through a section of music with one person as the leader. The other members have to live, breathe, and die for everything that person does, plays, even thinks. Then you play through it again with someone else leading and see how things compare. There's no discussion, no arguing, and everyone gets a turn to determine how the music goes.
And this, my friends, is one of the most profound musical ideas I have yet experienced. It's so simple on paper, but actually giving all of your energy and artistry to another musician opens up a world of musical generosity. Not to mention insight; how many things can we learn if we just stopped asking questions and instead listened for the answers?
 |
| Come on, who wouldn't want to emote for this face? |
In orchestral settings with a really great conductor, this living, breathing, and dying can often happen for the maestro. Having him or her shoot you a look or give you an encouraging gesture makes you want to play for them, and that's why orchestras don't always sound the same all the time, even the best ones.
But in chamber music, it can be more difficult to separate your performance from your self. There are only a few of you onstage, you're wearing something other than all black (thank the Lord), and you've prepared the whole work using only your experience and perceptions. I always find it difficult to really live in the moment in chamber music because the stakes are simply higher for my role. Yet that's totally counter-intuitive. Chamber music is the most loving kind of music-making there is, in a way. You're up there with friends, making eye contact, giving your best performance so your friends can give theirs. And living, breathing, and dying for another human being is kind of what it's all about right?
 |
| This drawing has always disturbed me. Look at the veins! |
I'm thinking about all of the possible implications for this philosophy. Can you imagine working in a group where people took turns living, breathing, and dying for another's idea? Can you imagine a teacher living, breathing, and dying for their students' opinions? It's so beautiful, and it works! It makes you hear differently and perceive time differently, and most importantly, it lets you forget about yourself for whole measures at a time!
Instead of the Transparent Eyeball, it allows you to become the Transparent Ear. Which is actually a really gross image. And only a moderately good name for a band.