I think that, as teachers, we all can recall moments of epiphany when a word, phrase, image, analogy, parable, or some other linguistic form that we uttered to our students clicked with them, and “they got it!” Not only did they get it, but they got it immediately, and could execute the skill or technique relatively easily and at will. Likewise, we can recall the same process from the other side; when we were students ourselves, just the right image or words from our teacher “turned the lights on” for us, and we ran with it. The premise of this article is simple — to explore this “happening,” with practical examples from many sources. Since this is a forum for the double bass, I surveyed well over 70 double bass teachers in the U.S. for their reactions to this question: “In your life experiences as a student and/or teacher, can you recall a moment (or moments) when a word, phrase, analogy, or some form of imagery so cleared up your or your student's understanding of the problem facing you or them, that you/they ‘got it’ immediately, and could execute it right away?” I then asked them to elaborate on the incident(s). The results were remarkable, as you will soon see.
The inspiration for this article came from a classic example of this phenomenon, which I witnessed at an ASTA Convention in Chicago in the late 1980s. I'm sure many of this journal's readers will recall that event. Josef Gingold was invited to headline a master class of student violinists chosen from a broad area of the country. It took place in a large venue because a large crowd was expected, and, indeed, did materialize. The first student to play was a young girl, who I believe was from Texas. She was very nervous… there were, after all, several hundred string teachers in the audience and she was playing for the legendary Gingold! As she played the first movement of a Brahms sonata, it was obvious from her very confined and “tight” sound that she was extremely tense and ill-at-ease. When she finished, there was polite applause, and then Gingold got out of his seat and steadied the girl with that famous gravelly voice: “My dear,” he said warmly, “that was very nice, and you are a wonderful player. Have you ever been to France?” The girl was taken off guard by the question and replied timidly, “No sir.” “Well, in France the language is very specific and means exactly what it says. In fact, it is the diplomatic language that is used around the world and between countries. So my dear, do you know what the French word is for down bow?” “No sir,” she replied. “It is tirez, which means to pull; and the French word for up bow is poussez, which means to push. Now I want you to play this movement again and all I want you to think about when you're playing is pulling and pushing the bow instead of upping and downing it.” The student played again, but it was now a totally different sound… fluid, entirely free from tension. It was astoundingly beautiful! The effect was so electrifying, that as the last note sounded, the audience, as one, rose with thunderous ovation. The applause was not only for the student performer, but also for the master teacher who so convincingly demonstrated what the right word at the right time can do.
So what follows is a sampling of just that — the power of “the right word(s) at the right time.” It is in no particular order or scheme, and represents approximately 45 percent of all the responses I received:
Orhan Volkan, University of Iowa— Many years ago, I had a student playing Koussevitzky's Chanson Triste. The student was having a hard time with reflecting the overall expression of the piece. We started talking about ways to tell the story and I likened the harmonics of the introduction to “tear drops.” The result was phenomenal. Ever since, I always use this analogy with the same great results.
Hal Robinson, Curtis, Juilliard, Principal Bass, Philadelphia Orchestra— “Your sound is the window to your level of tension.” One can clearly hear when there is any unnecessary muscle use, clenching, overuse through the purity of one's tone. “Consistency is the mother of musicality.” One has to have control over strokes, rhythm, and pitch to be able to shape phrases.
David Moore, USC, Los Angeles Philharmonic — A phrase that I use often with my students is “Intonation is like a dog in that it can smell fear.” Sometimes students mistake caution for care, and their hesitancy prevents them from developing the consistency that (even false) confidence can help mold.
Tim Pitts, Shepherd School of Music, Rice University – During my freshman year, my teacher, Lawrence Wolfe said, “Every note has two ends; good players are only concerned with the front end, but great players give equal thought to the other end.” This became my mantra in my own playing and later in my teaching.
Peter Lloyd, Colburn Conservatory — Riccardo Muti once shared with me something that the legendary music director of the Berlin Philharmonic, Herbert van Karajan, once said to him: “To be a successful director of an orchestra you must be willing to say the same 30 things for 30 years.” At that very moment it occurred to me that this axiom is true in order to be a successful teacher and mentor. There must be a central theme (“30 things”) to what we impart to our students.
Paul Robinson, The Ohio State University — I once had a student who was shy about adding intensity to a very sad piece. I finally stopped him and said, “Play it as if you just heard that the worst bully in town deliberately ran over your dog with his car.” Immediately, my student played with an intense pathos that I previously had not heard from him. It worked!
Brian Powell, University of Miami — My teacher on several occasions said to me, “Having a successful performance is much like successfully flying an airplane the two most crucial aspects of it are the take-off and the landing.” That proverb has since affected the way I prepare my performances. Making sure that I have addressed all the technical, musical, and mental aspects to get off on the right foot and making sure I leave a great last impression has served me well over the years… and I have passed it on to my own students.
Mark Morton, Texas Tech University — When a student is rushing, I have found that he or she will almost always immediately correct the situation when I calmly say the word “steady.” This has taught me to do my best as a teacher to avoid negative instruction, in particular eschewing the use of “Don't (fill in the blank).”
Ju-Fang Liu, Principal, Indianapolis Symphony — During a lesson in which I was studying spiccato, I was making more off-string “noises” than actual music. So my teacher asked me to look up the meanings of “music” and “sound.” Like a good student, I looked them up in the thick Oxford Dictionary of Music at the library (Google was not yet available). The definitions read: “Music — vocal or instrumental sounds (or both) combined in such away as to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion. Sound — vibrations that travel through the air or another medium and can be heard when they reach a person's or animal's ear.” I then realized that what my spiccato lacked was a beautiful sound. As a result I began letting the bow hang on the string a little longer than before, which made a huge difference.
Owen Lee, Principal, Cincinnati Symphony — I was doing a masterclass at IU recently and had one of my better moments of RWATRT (Right Word At The Right Time) as a teacher. I was trying to get a student to play cleaner, without bow scratch noises or hitting other strings. I said, “You know when you swish a basketball you say ‘nothing but net.’ Well, I want to hear nothing but NOTE!” The whole class roared with laughter, and I felt like the greatest comedian since Seinfeld. It evidently really worked because, on the next try, the student played astoundingly cleaner.
Orin O'Brien, New York Philharmonic, Manhattan School of Music — When I first went to study with the legendary Fred Zimmermann, I had only studied the bass a couple of years. Most of us were using gut strings in those days, and for some reason I was using way too much wrist motion on bow changes. One day in a lesson Fred told me after I had flipped my wrist on several bow changes, “You are letting the tail wag the dog!” It was exactly then that I realized that I myself had to control every motion of the bow.
Jeff Bradetich, North Texas University — One of my finest former students with numerous CD's to his credit used to struggle considerably with pitch. He tried everything from tuners to tactile memory to recording himself, but progress was slow. He eventually put dots on his fingerboard, and by having a constant visual reference conquered one of the most difficult aspects of bass playing. For this student the “Aha!” moment was a visual landmark on the fingerboard; not the final step to intonation, but in this case a big door to success.
Jack Budrow, Michigan State University — Early in my career I had the opportunity to take a few lessons with Tom Monohan, who later became the principal bassist of the Toronto Symphony. In one of those lessons, we were working on the first movement of the Seventh Symphony of Beethoven. The rhythm was killing me — I simply couldn't get the precise articulation of the passage. Tom looked at me and said, “I want you to say the following phrase over and over again. Pig, the Big Pig, the Big Pig, the Big Pig…” I did so, and I've never had a rhythmic problem with that movement since. It is such a sure thing that I use it with every student that studies this work with me.
Leigh Mesh, Principal, Metropolitan Opera Orchestra — I once had a student who needed to get the bow off the string more elegantly and therefore get a more ringing sound. I demonstrated for him and at the end of the stroke added the words “follow through.” The minute that was mentioned, a light bulb went off in the student's head. He was an accomplished student of the martial arts. He said, “This is just like breaking a board with your hand. You need to fluidly punch through it, not stop at the board when it breaks.” It worked immediately for him.
Lucas Drew, Prof. Emeritus, University of Miami — When dealing with vibrato, I tell the student to use the entire forearm, feeling as though “someone is tickling your elbow.” Using this imagery almost always works in making sure the vibrato is initiated from the proper source in the arm.
Jeff Turner, Principal, Pittsburgh Symphony — When Lorin Maazel promoted me to the principal position, he took me into his office and said, “I have two words that I want you to remember: example, and nurture. Example is, by far, the most effective tool you have, and ever will have, as a principal. If you consistently do your job the way you want the members of your section to do theirs, you will need very few words – anything you say will pale in comparison to the example you set. The other important tool you have is nurture. If you can stay focused on nurturing every person in your section, including the most senior members, you have a chance to make a real team, rather than just a row of players.”
Gary Karr, International Concert Soloist — For me, one of the most seminal moments of my career came from my teacher and mentor, the singer Jennie Tourel, who said, “You must breathe like a singer and make the double bass your voice.” She made me realize how much I love the sound of the bass and, if I could actually sing, how much I would like to sound like my double bass.
Eugene Levinson, Juilliard School — Once I had a student who was having difficulty understanding the concept of “contact point” in the bow. He was an avid tennis player and I told him that in tennis the sensation of feeling the ball with the webbing of the racket just a millisecond before following through with a stroke was the exact equivalent of what he should be doing with the bow. He immediately got it! I felt like a doctor who had just prescribed a magic cure-all pill!
Nicholas Walker, Ithaca University — When I was studying with the great French virtuoso Francois Rabbath in 1994, an exchange might have sounded something like this: FR -“Why?” NW — “Why what?” FR – “Why you do that?” NW – “Why'd I do what?” FR – (silence, stillness) NW – “Why'd I … use the third finger… Because I'm… But then my… Ohh… So if I use my second… Aha!” Questions can contain the answer within, and Rabbath helped me to build the habit of asking myself this simple question: “Why?”
Bruce Bransby, Indiana University Jacobs School of Music – My teacher, Nat Gangursky was an organized teacher, and through our first few lessons would not let me play anything until I had mastered the art of the legato bow change. With his intricate technique the string never stopped vibrating, therefore giving the effect of endless sound. Problem was, I didn't understand that there were times when strokes like on the string staccato and spiccato demanded articulation. One day a visitor to my lesson, Herman Jobelman, felt compelled to get up, grab my bow, and show me what it was that he thought I needed to correct. He said, “Hold firm.” I instantly knew what he was talking about… feel the attack in my fingers. Those words, “Hold firm,” probably had more influence on my playing and career than any other single thing.
Paul Erhard, University of Colorado — One of the most fundamental ABCs of double bass playing is the motto, “Always Be Counting.” A few years ago, a high school senior came to me for her first lesson just before her chair placement audition for the Colorado All State Orchestra. While her playing was strong, rhythmic inconsistencies indicated a need to focus on counting. Hearing from me, “The ABC of double bass playing is always be counting,” she began to focus on this aspect of her playing in the auditions. The result was that she was named principal, and has blossomed into a strong leader in orchestra and other ensembles.
David Murray, Butler University — I often talk about the weight of the bow into the string and the weight of the right arm. When I mention that the bow is like peanut butter – smooth, thick, and sticky – students understand how the bow should relate to the string and feel the contact with more weight. Very simple but very effective.
Donovan Stokes, Shenandoah Conservatory of Music – Sometimes the right word comes and I don't realize it happens. I had one student who often “flew by the seat of her pants” with fingerings of lyrical passages, even if I was specific in giving them. Off-handedly, I said that “not having a specific fingering for every note is like rolling dice: You might get it this time, or you might not. You ought to consider being more regimented, even with lyrical passages.” The next week she came in, and played the assigned movement flawlessly. I commented on how much improved her accuracy was. She immediately responded with, “I didn't want to roll the dice anymore!”
Kurt Muroki, Indiana University Jacobs School of Music – “Play through the movement using ponticello” was a short blurb that stuck with me when I watched a quartet coaching by the wonderful musician and teacher Donald Weilerstein. The purpose of this rehearsal technique is to help ensembles hear rhythm and clarity down to the smallest detail due to the bright nature of ponticello, as well as brightening up the sound. I use this technique often with fantastic results.
Derek Weiler, Interlochen Arts Academy – I had prepared the first etude of the Kreutzer Studies for my lesson while on the Interlochen campus one summer. I was proud of myself because I could play it at a relatively quick speed and relatively in tune. My teacher congratulated me and then asked me to play it again without scratching a note on every line of the etude. I remember thinking that that was probably an unrealistic request. It was, after all, a bass, and didn't we routinely make scratching noises? The word “scratch” was the right word at the right time for me. Ever since that time, I have felt empowered to create a better, more sophisticated sound on the instrument – without scratching.
Catalin Rotaru, Arizona State University – During a recent masterclass, a student was using a very rough, aggressive bow stroke in a situation that required a soft, delicate bow stroke. I asked him if he'd ever seen a cat walking on top of a very narrow fence, with the delicacy, elegance and precision of her steps. Immediately he was able to adjust the bow speed and pressure, and obtain the right sound for the specific passage.
DaXun Zhang, University of Texas, Austin – After my first professional recital, which my teacher attended, he commented to me on how “slow and unwilling” I seemed to walk out for the first piece. Then it hit me, how could I make the audience excited if it appeared that I was not excited to be there myself? I carry that advice with me today.
Ed Barker, Principal, Boston Symphony, Boston University – Just about everything Henry Portnoi said to me in lessons left a lasting impression on me. One such statement was, “The quality of your intonation will have a direct bearing on your standard of living.” Another timeless saying of his was, “Inspiration is useless if you play out of tune!”
Footnotes
Lawrence Hurst began his musical studies at the age of four, and at 13, took up the double bass. He began his professional career as principal bassist with the Dallas Symphony under Sir Georg Solti. He joined the faculty at the University of Michigan, School of Music in 1964, and in 1986 joined the Jacobs School of Music (Indiana University) where he chaired the String Department for 25 years. In 1967, he began teaching at the famed Interlochen Arts Camp and has taught there every summer since. In 2005, he was given ASTA's Artist Teacher of the Year Award, and, in June, 2013, the International Society of Bassists (of which he is past president) gave him their top honor, the Distinguished Achievement Award.