Complexity, part 2

...and too may badly marked arrangements,
awkward page turns, impossible mute changes,
missing rehearsal letters, 14th generation
photocopies, etc... for the royal ear. Just cut a
few and it will be perfect.

You can only focus your conscious mind on one thing at a time! Multitasking is a myth! There are three levels of complexity in the band, and you can't possibly pay attention to all of them at once, but somehow you have to cover them all in just the right amounts, at just the right times. Not paying enough attention to the section and ensemble levels is a hallmark of nonprofessional bands. The commonly heard complaint is that musicians are buried in their own parts, nearly oblivious to what's going on around them. The band can't stay together, phrasing goes out the window, cues are missed, tempos shift and lurch uncontrollably, etc. Oy.

As I wrote last time, part of the problem comes from band leaders picking out charts that are too difficult for musicians from a technical perspective. Musicians who are pushed to the limits of their technical capabilities won't have enough mental bandwidth left over to pay attention to their section and the whole ensemble. But not so fast! The individual musicians themselves bear an equal responsibility, too! Their job is to practice until their parts can be played without much conscious effort, which frees up some of that mental bandwidth for the section and ensemble levels. Practice time can also be spent expanding their abilities so that those more difficult charts come more easily as well. 

Shifting back to band leaders for a moment- how many of them allow their musicians to take their parts home with them? Not many, in my experience. How about having two copies of every book? A .pdf copy on the band's web site? A .jpg image of the parts on the band's web site? (Hey, musicians, you can do this too during rehearsal since most of us have some kind of portable device with a camera on it.) There's scarcely an excuse for musicians not having a copy of their parts available to them outside rehearsal, and there's no excuse at all for musicians not to practice troublesome parts until they have it down cold. Any given chart might not be played for weeks at a time, and without the ability to practice parts at home, it's almost like sight reading every time.

What's the appropriate mix of attention to your own part, your section, and the whole band? Not to be vague or slippery, but that depends. You have to constantly cycle your attention between those three levels all the time. The perpetual self-monitoring and adjustment is what makes playing in an ensemble so challenging- and rewarding! So, my prescription for the complexity problem is as follows:

• Band leaders pick easier tunes
• Band leaders pick fewer tunes
• Band leaders make the parts available for musicians to practice at home (musicians do this for themselves as a backup if needed)
• Musicians practice their parts until they are half-memorized (not much conscious effort needed)
• Musicians work on expanding their skill sets
• Rehearsals focus on section and ensemble level playing. No re-do's for simply flubbing notes. 

The Simple Truth About Complexity

Anyone see where the D.S. is?

I almost fell into the complexity trap trying to write this blog post, so I'll keep things as simple as possible. 

Band leaders need to be very careful when they select which charts they'll rehearse and perform. Complexity is an often neglected aspect of ensemble playing. It's not just sixteen people playing their individual parts! Individuals have to blend with their section, and the sections have to blend with each other. So there's really three layers of complexity to consider!

You've got to have enough brain power left over for people to spend on ensemble playing if the band is going to sound... well, like a band, and not a gaggle of musicians all fighting each other like they're on an overcrowded subway car.

The saxophones usually have the busiest parts in any given chart, so look there to get a feel for how difficult the chart is from an individual technical standpoint. For example, if the individual sax players can handle a "7" level of difficulty (on a scale of 1 to 10), make sure their parts are no more difficult than a "4" or "5", so that they're not pushed to the limits of their ability to just play the notes. That way they can do the necessary work of splitting their attention between covering their own part and using their listening skills to work on ensemble playing as a section and a band. 

This is such a crucial role for the band leader, but time and again I see super difficult charts put in front of the band, with the same predictable results. I don't know if it's just wishful thinking that band members will step up their game, or maybe just a sadistic macho desire to play really advanced material.

I do know that even if everyone in the band can play a level "7" piece as individuals, as an ensemble, they'll probably be able to pull off a level "5" chart and no more. There's a trade-off between scale and complexity, as Yaneer Bar-Yam aptly points out in this fine book.

I also do know that I'd much rather hear a less technically complex chart played with real attention to ensemble playing and artistry than hear the same band hack their way through a dense chart, lurching and staggering to make to the end without a train wreck. Believe me, it's no badge of honor. Rather, it's a sign that the band leader needs to reconsider his role and think harder about what the band is capable of, not the individuals themselves. 

Simple enough?

[Update: A reader made a good argument for looking at the trumpets' parts instead of the saxophones'. I chose the saxophones because their parts tend to be busier, hence a better indicator of complexity. The trumpets' parts tend to be difficult in terms of range and endurance, but not necessarily complexity. My focus here was leaving enough mental bandwidth left over for ensemble playing. As a band leader, you do have to mind how many screeching trumpet charts you pack in to a set.]

Preflight checklist

How many times has your band started a tune only to have it completely come off the rails within a measure or two? It's pretty embarrassing to have to stop the band and start over in front of an audience, even if it's 'just a rehearsal and we're sight reading this material'. And if you make it all the way through, what about those awkward endings where everything falls apart in the last eight measures? 

Why do some people seem to sight read unfamiliar tunes with minimal problems while others make the same mistakes over and over again on familiar tunes? My own answer is that the latter group doesn't have a systematic approach to reading a chart, instead diving right in with little preparation. 

Mouthpiece? Check. In-flight gin and tonic? Check.

You wouldn't want the pilot on your next flight to just 'wing it' and jaunt out onto the runway willy-nilly, would you? How about your surgeon? In both cases, the extensive use of checklists prevents silly mistakes and oversights from wrecking everything. Checklists coordinate, prioritize, and sequence the many skills one has already mastered in order to smoothly arrive at the intended result. 

Below is my own 'preflight checklist' that I perform with every tune before I play it. Admittedly I never actually wrote down this checklist until now because it's something I unconsciously developed along the way. But for the purposes of illustrating the nuts and bolts of sight reading, I wrote it down. The items are listed with the most important at the top, decreasing in importance as you go down the list. As soon as the tune is in front of my eyes, I immediately start in on it. The challenge is to go down this checklist as fast I can without compromising quality. At a minimum, I need to get a solid grasp of the first five items (meter & tempo, style, key signature, intro bars, ending). If there's extra time, the other items are also helpful.

Note that 'dense passages' comes near the bottom of the list. Getting rapid technical passages isn't nearly as important as maintaining good time & rhythm while making sure you don't get lost.

• Meter & tempo (try to quietly tap the approximate tempo- err on the side of faster if in doubt)
• Style (might be printed, but also get clues from title, composer, arranger, copyright date, etc. depending on your own familiarity)
• Key signature
• Intro bars/first bars (quietly sing/chant)
• • pickups
  • rhythm (familiarity with Raph's common rhythmic figures helps a lot here)
  • articulation (familiarity with Raph's rules for articulation helps a lot here)
  • dynamics
• Ending
• • tempo changes/rubato/fermatas/etc.
  • ending key- same as starting key? 
• Key changes
• Road map
• • repeats
  • codas, signs
  • awkward page turns
• Mutes needed?
• • enough time to insert & remove?
• Solos
• • # of bars
  • basic harmonic stucture
• Dense passages
• • rhythm
  • notes
• Other
• • meter changes
  • style changes
  • tempo changes

Professional vs. Amateur vs. Dilettante

Dilettantes are a disease. We are the cure.

Friends, I want to share a revelation I've had during my time here... 
There's actually three classes of musicians out there, not two. The common assumption is that there are only  professionals and amateurs. The pros make their living from music, while the amateurs have some other way of deriving an income. 

All kinds of insinuations are made when we distinguish 'professional' from 'amateur'. Namely, that professionals perform at a higher level than mere amateurs, who put forth a valiant effort but come up short. In my experience, it's not so cut and dry. There are plenty of professionals who aren't terribly good, and many amateurs who play on a world-class level. 

I want to make a more nuanced distinction when it comes to amateurs. Among them there's a very wide range of ability levels compared to their professional counterparts, but that's not the crucial distinction. Going further than ability level, let's examine attitude, or perhaps mindset. This is where things get interesting...

The professional and the amateur are indeed brothers-in-arms in that they both approach their art with the same level of intensity and dedication. The amateur by definition doesn't have as much time at his disposal, so naturally his ability level lags behind that of the professional, although it may eventually catch up with enough years of practice. 

The dilettante, on the other hand, is a breed apart and very different in mindset than the professionals and amateurs. Carol Dweck characterizes the former as having a fixed mindset, while the latter two have a growth mindset. Recognize a dilettante, that mere dabbler, by the following characteristics:

• Reaches a rather low plateau of playing ability and is permanently stuck there
• Seems unconcerned or even unaware that much improvement could be had
• Is more interested in the social aspect of group playing than making music
• Is unaware of who the composer is, what genre the tune is in, hasn't heard recordings of the tune, etc. 
• Regards the pencil with disdain
• Stands in mystified awe of those who play at a high level, and attributes it to talent or luck
• Scoffs, sneers, or takes delight when a high-level player struggles or makes an obvious mistake

Nobel prize in psychology? News to me.

The existence of dilettantes per se isn't so much the problem as those dilettantes who masquerade as amateurs and wriggle their way into amateur ensembles where they cause endless frustration. No amount of discussion or rehearsal will fix the problem. The rest of the ensemble simply has to put up with them and hope they don't cause too much damage. Hopefully there's only one of these impostors because that seems to be the limit before unmanageable chaos sets in. 

What to do?

In the Practice Room- Physical Set Up

If you're a non-professional musician like me, getting adequate time to practice is a big issue. You probably have a job that keeps you busy during the day, a spouse, kids, house projects, and the usual retinue of laundry, dishes, shopping, etc. You're pressed for time, to put it mildly. And then there's your energy level. Practice comes last, after everything else is done, and your energy level isn't at its peak. And don't forget gumption, willpower, grit, etc. Just like time and energy, willpower is a finite resource. You'll need some of that, too.

So if you've decided to practice, you're already short on time and energy and willpower. But wait! Now you have to get ready to practice! What's that, you say? This:

• Go to your practice area
• Clear a space to open the case & assemble the horn
• Get a music stand 
• Get an instrument stand
• Light on the stand if needed
• Dig around for something to play
• Get a pencil to mark the music
• On and on...

Here is my gold-plated guarantee: If you don't make it as easy as possible to practice- if it involves an iota more effort than you think it should otherwise take, you will start finding excuses for not practicing. Your playing will suffer. You'll struggle to get through rehearsals. You'll be one step closer to giving up. Bet on it. 

Although you can't do much about other obligations that use up time, energy, and willpower, you can lower the barrier to getting in some practice time. Take a look at your physical setup and see what could be changed to make it easier. Minimize decision fatigue and you'll practice more often, rather than waste time merely getting ready to practice. Here's what I did:

• I keep an adequate amount of free space on my desk at all times. No moving books, papers, etc. out of the way to make room for the case, music, mutes, etc. 
• As I've upgraded equipment, I kept the older music stand, stand light, and instrument stand. Zero time spent setting these up. They're permanently sitting there. The new stuff is what I take to rehearsals & performances.
• I have a Pen Pal holder stuck to the bottom of my stand with a mechanical pencil in it. Fumbling around for a pencil annoys the crap out of me. 
• I use my iPod touch as my metronome, tuner, audio/video recording & playback device, camera, and picture viewer. I snap shots of stuff I muffed during rehearsal and work on it at home. Something with a bigger screen would be better, but the iPod touch is adequate.
• I have a decent but inexpensive set of speakers that can be plugged into the iPod for listening to recordings, play-a-longs, watching videos, etc. Aebersold CDs are already on the iPod. 
• A small shelf that sits on my desk that has a small stack of music I'm currently working on. It's within arm's reach, and I don't have to get out of the chair.

As a finishing touch, maybe put up a few pictures, posters, or decorations that inspire you.

The beauty of this tactic is that you only have to do it once, and you're all set forever more. 

Short of a magic amulet that gives you a little peace and quiet, what else can you do?

By the way, none of the above addresses your practice plan. You do have a plan, don't you? That's another big drain on willpower. Make your practice plan in advance so you don't waste time and energy figuring it out when you should be playing instead. 

Enter Raph, pt II.

What's the biggest difference between those top-tier professional bands and your band? They have mastered the art of ensemble playing, while members of your band are still buried in their own parts. They are a phalanx of Greek soldiers, moving as one unit to crank out an incredibly tight wall of sound. 

What is that on the shield? A peacock? An emu? 

Your band is usually more like this gathering of Greeks:

What do we want? Steady tempo! When do we want it? Now!

...but on bad days it can look like this gathering of Greeks:

The beat(ing) goes on.

Why is this? They have a solid command of the top of this pyramid, while some members of your band are hardly aware of it:

Pyramid power!

All of us in amateur bands have a solid enough technical base, although the occasional fast and dense passage may trip us up (more on that soon). There are probably some minor deficiencies when it comes to stylistic interpretation of written jazz and swing music. And if that's the case, forget about the top level entirely. Unfortunately, that's what makes your band sound loose and inconsistent.

Most amateur bands need to work on the middle slice of the pyramid as individuals, then the top slice as a group. Dance Band Reading and Interpretation by Alan Raph provides a common reference to do that. See the Google Books preview here. Practice the etudes alone at home to make sure Raph's five rules are being consistently applied. At rehearsal, don't do the usual warm up on an easy tune, but get more accomplished by warming up with ensemble playing of a couple etudes, striving to match each other's style. Done consistently, the band will start to sound better and better as they play more as an ensemble and less as a mere gathering of individuals.

If you've never experienced playing in a group where that pyramid is fully present, start watching YouTube videos of the Basie band, the SWR Big Band, or Gordon Goodwin's Big Phat Band to get a taste for what it sounds and looks like. Do those exercises in the Raph book with your band and you'll start to know what it feels like. There's no going back after that!

Monk's Advice

I was cleaning off my desk when I found a copy of Thelonious Monk's Advice I had printed out. Say what you want about Monk, but this list is right on... especially #1:

Just because you're not a drummer, doesn't mean you don't have to keep time.

It also appears here on Lists of Note.

A favorite album of mine is Monk's first recording on the Riverside label, Thelonious Monk Plays Duke Ellington. I think I've listened to it so much that sometimes I default to his version of the tunes when I try to hear them in my head. Here's Wikipedia's write-up on it.

If I learned anything from listening to Monk, it's simply to be yourself. After all, nobody else is going to do that job for you.

(Image via)