by Matthew Haislip

Dr. Matthew C. Haislip Mississippi State University

“Ugh. I missed some notes.”

All hornists have been there. We stressed. We feared. We performed. We missed notes. So, at least in our minds—and maybe in the minds of others—we failed. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t what we love most about music. In fact, was this even a musical experience at all? Or was it a torturous humiliation ritual?

Our culture bombards each of us with a façade of confident excellence on social media. Auto-Tune and quantization have made popular music “perfect” in pitch and rhythmic time…even when performed live. Classical music videos and recordings are often edited and spliced to perfection. We rarely see the vulnerable human reality in our digital world. This can be daunting for motivated hornists of all ages.

Then we attend a live performance. Or we ourselves perform live. Reality sets in. But it is truly a beautiful human reality. I have heard many of the greatest hornists and orchestras perform live. They all missed notes. Some fewer than others. Some more than others. But what about the music? Was I not inspired beyond any recording to hear such excellence and passion coming from their bells regardless of the number of notes missed? Was I not motivated to practice with inspiration for countless years to come from what I heard them do with our instrument? Did I not also come to understand that the greatest players in the world will make mistakes too? Absolutely.

Music is a human endeavor. By definition. Humans are not consistent machines with mechanical perfection in the execution of intricate tasks. The horn’s slippery overtone series at higher altitude presents true obstacles to perfection for everyone who commits to learning the instrument. The fear of failure will either stop us in our tracks or so hinder us from passionate expression that we won’t be able to perform well. So, how can we make music with the necessary freedom to soar on the horn when we are faced with imperfections that must be met head-on to advance on our instrument?

We must change the way we approach music. Fear-based music-making is not artistic expression. Fear-based music-making is oppression. It is ugly. Even if it sounds good. The worst performances I’ve ever played came from a very fearful place. Even though some of those performances sounded good. The greatest performances I’ve ever given were great because I was totally immersed in the music. The focus wasn’t on me, at least not from my perspective. The focus in my mind was the musical material at hand and the role my horn played in each moment. I shared the music with the audience and with my colleagues. I didn’t play perfectly, but I was truly connected to the artform, and this enabled me to perform better. My accuracy was strengthened by my focus on the music instead of on me. The artform shined brightly in the room.

We as a musical culture need to celebrate the human element of music even as we strive for greater excellence in every aspect of what we do. This demands that we relinquish fear-based perfectionism in our teaching and performing. We must develop precision with freedom. We must also embrace the humanity of musicians from the audience, celebrating live music without gossiping about a missed note afterwards as though accuracy is all that matters.

To be certain, there are things we can do to improve our accuracy as hornists. We must practice diligently without distractions. We must continue to train our aural proficiency beyond our ear training courses. We must perform live in front of people to become more comfortable doing so. But when these skills are pursued with a focus on the concept of sharing a musical idea with other human beings, we build the subconscious flow of playing our instrument artistically with freedom. We can then take this freedom to the stage to share it with others. As my teacher, Randy Gardner, wrote about accuracy on page 109 in his fabulous treatise on brass playing, Good Vibrations:

Messages sent from the brain to the body must be positive. Negative messages such as, “Don’t miss!” or “Oh no, here comes that passage I always miss!” or “If I miss any notes in this passage, I’ll be out of a job” invite negative results. Questions such as, “What will the conductor (or other important people in the audience) think of me if I miss this…?” significantly increase a musician’s probability of being inaccurate. Clear your brain screen of all verbal instructions or thoughts, and fill your brain screen with clear sound images. Hear powerfully what you intend to produce!

When we perform, we channel music to the audience with whom we share it. By removing “us” from the equation in our focus, we communicate musical sound directly from the composer to the audience. We may make mistakes. But what about the music? If music was shared free of fear and oppression, that’s a win for humanity in my book.

I’m just one person, but I want to do my part to keep the human element at the center of artistic expression as much as possible in my own little world. Let’s freely share our music with other beautifully human people.

by Marty Schlenker, Amateur Hornist

Dear Fellow Ambitious Amateurs,

I was surprised and flattered when Mike Harcrow asked me to consider writing a column for Horn and More. As I introduce myself and my circumstances, I hope you will find things in common and be inspired in your own playing. This column, to be called Ambitious Amateurs, will be as informative as I can make it, but there will be a steady theme of “fighting to make time for horn in a busy life.” You’ll see that I’m early into an experiment, and the column is part of it. 

How I got here: I was six years old when Star Wars hit theaters. It was, of course, a revelation. My parents indulged me (in the pre-VCR days) by taking me many times to the theater. When fourth grade came around, I was determined: I wanted to play the horn because of Star Wars, although I’d never actually seen a horn up close. [Aside: I was in my 30s before I played anything from Star Wars with an ensemble. I’ve played the Binary Sunset leitmotif exactly once in concert.]

I loved being in the school band but knew that I wasn’t “music major material.” Even as a non-major, I had very fortunate experiences in college, the pinnacle of my musical immersion. There were orchestras, wind bands, and various chamber groups during the school year; and for three summers, I marched in the Cavaliers Drum & Bugle Corps, an experience that profoundly improved me as a human being and as a musician. 

I consider myself mostly self-taught to date but will credit teachers and recount some “a-ha moments” in future columns. My post-college playing will be familiar to many of you: community bands, church services, and various horn and brass ensemble configurations. The latter were the most enjoyable but the most fleeting. I rehearsed and practiced as time allowed, working it in around a career and raising three kids with my wonderful wife, who, by the way, is the ‘pro’ in the family, having earned a degree in piano and voice and who plays the trombone for kicks. Lucky me! 

But I think what prompted Mike to suggest that I write a column was this: even though I don’t expect to regain the state of musical immersion that I had in college, I haven’t given up on the idea that my most accomplished days as a horn player still lie ahead. What will follow in this column are dispatches from my journey, still largely unmapped, to reach as close to music-major-like proficiency as I can as a 52-year-old guy whose homestead (Cumberland County, PA) and new office (Los Angeles) are three time zones apart.

The DFW area, where I spent about 25 years before moving to Pennsylvania last Christmas, is a terrific place to be a horn player. Not only are there are community bands everywhere, but the DFW area is also home to the remarkable Houghton family. I’ve taken my instruments to Houghton Horns for care the entire time I lived in Texas. Like clockwork, as I was dropping it off or picking it up, or ogling their vast inventory, there would be a high school kid in a lesson with Karen in the studio. 10 times out of 10, that kid could outplay high-school-me…and 8 out of 10 could outplay right-now-me. Wow. Seriously, wow. What proficient teaching.

Somewhere along the line, I started to muse to Dennis every time I saw him that someday life was going to get simpler, and I was going to get back into lessons and really figure out what to do with this thing. Life got simpler in some ways and less in others, but when I told Dennis I was moving to Pennsylvania, he instantly thought of his old pal Mike Harcrow and suggested that I give him a call. It took me a few months to get organized, but I did make that call, and what’s happened since will be the subject of some of the columns to come. 

If any part of your life as a horn player sounds like this, let me know who you are and what has worked and what has not, and you will be subject of the column. If this column remains just about one person, it’s going to become boring very fast. Now let’s go practice!

by Katy Carnaggio

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Wishing you a holiday season rich with discovery and renewal and believing that this will help!

by Inman Hebert

Community service can be an important part of the holiday season. From food banks to toy drives, people band together to serve others. As horn players, we are musicians and community members, so we have unique opportunities to help others during the holiday season by spreading the joy of music throughout our communities.

Holidays are filled with social interactions, celebrations, and events. For some, holiday stress is heightened by struggling with expectations or increasing feelings of loneliness. In volunteer work to help others, we spark happiness within ourselves, find a sense of purpose, improve our communication skills, and establish new or develop existing relationships that connect us with our local community.

Volunteering allows us to focus on an audience that matters to us in places where the needs cannot be filled with professional orchestras or professional ensembles. Playing the horn can give joy to those often overlooked by society. Especially during the holidays, music can transport both those who play and those who listen to another place and time, evoking memories and emotions. Listening to music elevates mood and triggers sensations of well-being. Music enriches lives and brings people together for a shared experience.

Service also fulfills a vital professional role in the horn community: outreach. Often, the public views the horn with an air of mystery. Few people know anything about the instrument besides its beautiful shape. By playing more in our communities, we can demystify the horn. We show that the horn not only belongs in a concert hall but also plays an intrinsic role in the community.

How can we locate service opportunities for the horn? As students, we can contact mentors, music teachers, band directors, or professors for existing outreach. Universities may have well-resourced community programs. Band directors often have local connections, such as with local assisted-living facilities. We can research local music groups. Established groups may have venues in which they spread music across the community. Do not be afraid to reach out to them; they will appreciate your help! Volunteer to get involved with whatever groups are around.

Even if we cannot find a preexisting group, we can create our own! Find other students with a similar passion for serving the community. As music students, we are surrounded by other talented, passionate musicians. With those other students, set up public events. Play at parks, retirement homes, schools, or community centers. By playing in these public places, we build connections in the community.

Music is a universal language that connects people. Whether playing carols at a park or educating others about instruments, student horn players can be ambassadors for the horn and share our talents to impact our communities with service, creating musical bonds that spread our love of the horn throughout our society.

Chamber Music Corner—Prelude from Humperdinck’s Hänsel und Gretel

by Layne Anspach

Hello musicians!

As we head into December, a month filled with holidays, there are traditions ingrained in our lives, whether exchanging gifts, spending time with friends and family, or enjoying festive music. We have recurring favorites that we hear or perform: Handel’s Messiah, Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, or Leroy Anderson’s Sleigh Ride, among others. (Okay, maybe Sleigh Ride doesn’t make the top of the list for some—or most—horn players.) Another holiday favorite, especially for Europeans, is Engelbert Humperdinck’s Hänsel und Gretel. 

Humperdinck’s opera is one my favorites to perform, especially the Dream Sequence in Act II. Another feature for the horns is the opening prelude, featuring the well-known chorale. A wonderful arrangement of the Prelude-Chorale is for eight horns, set by Jeffry Kirschen of the Philadelphia Orchestra. The piece is worth programming any time of the year.

What associates Humperdinck’s opera with the holiday season? The Grimm Brothers published Hansel and Gretel in 1812, although the original story comes from the early part of the 14th century. While the 1812 version of the story does not suggest any relation to Christmas, the connection comes from the origin of Humperdinck’s version.

Adelheid Wette, Humperdinck’s sister, requested that her brother write four songs for a Christmas performance for her children, probably in 1890. The songs were to Wette’s treatment of the Grimm’s Hänsel und Gretel. The songs and a subsequent Singspiel were well received, and this prompted Humperdinck to write a full opera on the story. The work was finished in 1893 and premiered under Richard Strauss’ baton in the Hoftheater in Weimar on December 23rd, 1893. The sugary sweets and the witch’s gingerbread house helped tie the opera to Christmas, along with subsequent performances which were scheduled at Christmas time. The Metropolitan Opera’s first full opera radio broadcast was of Hänsel und Gretel on Christmas day, 1931, further cementing the opera as a Christmas classic.

Hornists from the Boston Symphony Orchestra and Gewandhausorchester Leipzig can be heard on the reference recording.

em português

by Ricardo Matosinhos

Matosinhos International Competition 2024

The creative process is often chaotic, and this can be intimidating for many musicians. As Sullivan aptly describes, “It's like washing a pig. I'm serious. It's exactly like washing a pig. It's messy, has no rules, no clear beginning, middle, or end, it's kind of a pain in the a**, and when you're done, you're not sure if the pig is clean or even why you were washing a pig in the first place” (Sullivan, 2008, p. 46).

My creative process aligns well with Sullivan's description. It's a form of controlled chaos, and I firmly believe that creativity and chaos often go hand in hand. If you follow the same routines every day, there's little room for creativity. For instance, if you're working on a technical aspect of your playing and keep doing the same task in the same way, you can't expect significant improvements. What works for your teacher or your friends may not necessarily work for you. When you choose a different path, you open the door to new possibilities. So, in both horn playing and composition, just dare to embrace the chaos, to be creative, and to learn from it.

I can pick up my horn and start playing at any time, but I struggle to sit at a desk and compose. I was trained as a horn player, not as a composer. Consequently, I've learned to be spontaneous, to seize ideas as they come. Sometimes, I'm in the shower, driving my car, or about to teach a class in two minutes when a musical idea strikes. Instead of complaining, I'm grateful for these inspirational moments, even if they don't always arrive at the most convenient times. Since I always have my mobile phone with me, I open a recording app and capture the idea. If a horn isn't nearby, I might sing, hum, do something percussive, or whistle. This might even involve overtone singing or buzzing with multiphonics, when multiple notes are involved—anything will do! Capturing the moment allows my music to flow without overthinking. Later, when I have time, I listen to the recordings. Unfortunately, sometimes some of them don't make much sense to me anymore. In such cases, I extract rhythmic patterns and melodic motifs, and I attempt to reenter that creative state. If it works, I compose, whether on paper, tablet, or computer. If I can't recapture the mood, I just leave it and try again another day. Sometimes, even on the same day, certain ideas that seemed elusive before just suddenly reappear while others may linger...

Ein Waldhorn Lustig

by Caiti Beth McKinney

Hello horn friends! Instead of featuring one composer and discussing the music in depth, I decided to join the holiday festivities and introduce several brass quintet pieces about the fall and winter months.

First, we have Gwyneth Walker’s collection of quintets. Several of Walker’s brass quintets are suitable for festive celebrations, including her pieces A Season of Wonder, Fanfare Among Friends, and The Light Descending. Her music is frequently inspired by folksongs and other familiar genres like jazz, so her compositions are both approachable and highly enjoyable.

Another piece that I enjoy programming during the holidays is Violet Archer’s Two Fanfares for a Festive Day. Both movements of this piece are bombastic and lively, showcasing the virtuosity of the players, and performers can certainly select to perform either the “Majestic” fanfare or its “Joyous” companion.

Yet another composition highly suitable for this time of year is Judith Lang Zaimont’s Winter Music—Chanty. At five minutes long, this piece is full of shifting meters with a shanty flair. While perhaps requiring a bit of rehearsal, this work is well worth that investment.

If one is looking for a more esoteric interpretation of the holidays, Margaret Brouwer’s Tolling the Spirits is an eighteen-minute piece that reminds me of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, especially Brouwer’s third movement, appropriately entitled “Spirits.” Performers are instructed to use air sounds, vocalizations, and other extended techniques to create an other-worldly soundscape. While not the most traditional interpretation of my self-imposed brief, I think this is a fun work to play at this time of year! Be sure to check out the other movements of the piece, including the “Monk’s Canon,” an inspiring interpretation of Renaissance vocal music and tolling bells—and, of course, another of Brouwer’s brass quintets, Celebration.

There are many other wonderful pieces to program during this season, but I would be remiss if I left out two of my current favorites: Dale Trumbore’s Light of Late November and Lauren Bernofsky’s Musica Solaris. I like to think that these pieces pair beautifully together, with the former being a peaceful and, at times, melancholy ode to the changing of fall to winter, while Bernofsky’s quintet reminds us that the sunshine that can break through even the bleakest cold.

Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays to all!