by Kate Warren

Hi! I’m Kate Warren, hornist, music educator, and Social Media Coordinator for the International Horn Society. I am currently the featured horn soloist for the Tony and Emmy award winning Broadway show Blast! as well as a Lecturer in Music at Ocean County College—but you probably know me most from my online music education work on Instagram through @katewarrenmusic.

@katewarrenmusic is a passion project that evolved from practice accountability to the free-flowing knowledge base it is now. As a young hornist whose family could not afford lessons, most of my early knowledge came from free online resources such as hornmatters.com and the archived interviews and articles on the IHS website. My goal now is to contribute just as much knowledge to others as I needed then.

Currently, I’ve got a fascinating series going that looks at the inner workings of the aperture (literally) using an endoscopic camera inside a 3D printed mouthpiece. I’m testing all sorts of things from register and articulation shifts to lip trills, pedal notes, and multiphonics. If this type of pedagogy experiment sounds interesting to you, I encourage you to explore my account!

I’m very excited for our upcoming gathering at James Madison University—it will be my very first IHS Symposium! I’ll be documenting the conference for IHS’s social media channels as well as conducting informal mini-interviews of attendees. My goal is to hear from as many different voices in our horn community as I can, so if you see me floating around, please come say hello and ask to be interviewed .

in English

por Líber Oscher

El 14 de Mayo de 2025, el Sistema Nacional de Orquestas y Coros Juveniles e Infantiles de Venezuela  recibe por segunda vez en la ciudad de Caracas a  Sarah Willis, una auténtica embajadora del corno en el mundo y  apreciada por su carismática manera de promover el amor por este instrumento. Cornista de la Orquesta Filarmónica de Berlín, Sarah Willis ha venido desarrollando una brillante carrera como solista y profesora, siendo invitada a formar parte de los más prestigiosos festivales. En esta oportunidad, la Escuela Nacional de Corno del Sistema, tuvo el privilegio de inaugurar el Festival de Metales que esta institución celebra en su 50 aniversario, con una semana de clases dirigida a niños, jóvenes y profesionales que hacen vida en las distintas agrupaciones de El Sistema.

Para esta ocasión, la Dirección Ejecutiva, El Conservatorio Itinerante Inocente Carreño y la Gerencia de Escuelas de El Sistema unieron esfuerzos para convocar a más de 70 cornistas del Distrito Capital y del Interior que se beneficiaron de esta inolvidable experiencia, y que culminó con un deslumbrante concierto en la Sala Simón Bolívar del Centro Nacional de Acción Social por la Música el 21 de mayo.

Durante esta gran fiesta del corno, Sarah Willis y el equipo de la Escuela Nacional de Corno organizaron una variada agenda de calentamientos grupales, fundamentos técnicos, masterclasses, preparación e interpretación de repertorio orquestal para audiciones, juegos didácticos para los más pequeños, talleres dirigidos a las secciones de las orquestas profesionales y música de cámara para ensambles de cornos, con la participación del ensamble de cornos de la Orquesta Sinfónica Simón Bolívar, el ensamble  “Nómada Horns” y el Gran Ensamble de la escuela Nacional de Corno, conformado por los cornistas pertenecientes a los núcleos del Distrito Capital, el Conservatorio de Música Simón Bolívar, la Orquesta Sinfónica Simón Bolívar, la Orquesta Sinfónica Juan José Landaeta,  la Orquesta Sinfónica Juvenil de Caracas, la Orquesta de Cámara Simón Bolívar y la Orquesta Sinfónica Francisco de Miranda. Cabe destacar que todos los participantes tuvieron la única oportunidad de tocar junto a la Maestra Sarah en cada uno de los ensambles, un hecho que todos recordarán como referente del buen sonido e interpretación del corno.

El concierto de clausura contó con la asistencia de un público amante del corno y admiradores de Sarah. El programa incluyó obras del repertorio para ensambles de corno, bandas sonoras de películas donde el corno tiene un rol protagonista, música latinoamericana (mambos, un favorito de Sarah), opera, música popular americana y venezolana, bajo la dirección del Maestro José Giménez y la interpretación de los ensambles antes mencionados.  Para deleite de la audiencia,  el ensamble de cuerdas de la Orquesta Sinfónica Juan José Landaeta, bajo la dirección del Maestro Jesús Uzcátegui,  se unen a esta celebración en el primer encuentro como solistas en un mismo escenario de Sarah Willis y el gran trompetista Pacho Flores, orgullo de Venezuela y un referente número una de la trompeta en el mundo.

50 años representan un largo recorrido de experiencias enriquecedoras para la cultura venezolana, y es emocionante tener la oportunidad de tener en Venezuela eventos académicos como estos, en los que siguen surgiendo caminos hacia la evolución musical y social, y lazos de amistad perdurables con seres tan especiales como Sarah Willis.

by Katy Carnaggio

You are asked to do something extraordinary. Across the full spectrum of human performance, very few domains demand both precise, real-time execution in front of an audience and the transmission of meaning. Not just visible success, but emotional impact. In sports, emotion is a byproduct. In music, it’s the point.

Throughout this series, we’ve explored how musicians develop the ability to anticipate sound and sensation before playing by building internal models through imaginative, preference-based practice. It’s execution with feeling built in.

In music, sound is the measurable, verifiable outcome. You play the written pitch. You follow expressive markings. You stay within stylistic norms. Or you don’t. You can train this endlessly, but it only gets you partway. Because at the same time, you’re asked to do something immeasurable: make people feel something.

Other artists manage the task of creating meaning through process. They draft, delete, and revise. They can pick up a pencil, draw a white chair, and change it until it speaks.

But musicians perform in a single, irreversible moment where every choice is final and every outcome witnessed. In those conditions, certainty can become more tempting than creation. Instead of making the leap to believe a white image will emerge from graphite, we search for a white pencil—something to guarantee the result, but in doing so, forfeits connection.

No amount of technical preparation replaces the leap of belief required when the audience arrives. To train the other half of the ask, you have to practice the leap. You can do that through relational surrender: the act of releasing self-protection, outcome management, or overcontrol to allow authentic connection with the music, the moment, or another person. It’s a conscious choice of yielding in service to something higher than self.

Relational surrender is not the absence of control; it is the calibrated transfer of control from conscious monitoring to internal models built through disciplined preparation. It’s a skill initiated deliberately, developed through practice, and integrated through performance over time as the nervous system learns to meet uncertainty without bracing.

It means:

• Choosing sincerity over self-presentation
• Remaining open to being shaped
• Allowing love, rupture, or disconnection without forcing a narrative
• Risking loss for the sake of integrity
• Withholding in spaces that demand self-erasure

To explicitly train this skill, you must first develop an internal model you can trust. It starts by developing a vivid, compelling musical intention. So, let’s imagine you’re in the practice room, trying to find a quality of sound that sets Brahms apart from Mozart and from Strauss. And while it’s not yet clear, the sound you’re looking for reminds you of one of your favorite traditions: Saturday morning pancake breakfasts with your family. Maybe it was the way sunlight streamed through the window that brought it back. The warmth in a place that felt familiar and full. But you also remember looking down at your plate and watching the butter melt into every edge. And you realize that’s exactly how you want each phrase to feel: rich, connected, and saturated with warmth. Then, with each bite, there’s structure, yes, but the texture is fluffy. Like a centered core to a sound that’s full but never heavy. And of course, the syrup. Golden, bright, and alive on your tongue. The sparkle of overtones that adds lift and complexity without losing warmth. All qualities of a Brahmsian horn sound you can distill into one word: pancakes.

Training the model means tracing the mechanics backward from your now clear musical intention to sensation. Starting from sound, you imagine how it would feel to produce in your body and bring that guess to the horn. Observe, adjust, return. Through this process, you try on breaths and discover what’s too shallow, too generous, or too cool until you find the one that enables your intention. You notice where you still grip for control through your right shoulder or throat or legs, and you learn to surrender even those places to your intention.

Just as you know valve combinations and when to use them, anytime you want to create the precise sound you’ve mapped, you can scan from head to toe until your body, mind, and breath are primed accordingly. You find what needs to release and what needs to support until you have embodied your intention so completely that it radiates from all of you like the moment Beast transforms into a prince in Beauty and the Beast. The horn simply amplifies what’s already present.

Practicing the leap means surrendering to your internal models. Performance stops being proof of your preparation and becomes a question. What does this sound mean here? in this hall, with these people, in this unrepeatable moment of your life?

Relational surrender is performance at its most complete. It’s what allows performer, colleagues, audience, and music to become co-participants in a shared experience.

You can surrender in an audition and discover the hall is adding delightful nuances in your tone and projection that no practice room has revealed. Now your Brahms may always carry a bit of a great concert hall.

You can surrender in an orchestra and hear a colleague phrase differently than expected. You respond without hesitation, and suddenly a well-worn passage reveals new emotional terrain. Now your phrasing will always remember that person, that moment of shared breath.

You can surrender in a recital and sense the audience’s focus is sharpening your own, allowing you to lock in a tricky rhythmic passage. Now that phrase will always pulse with the energy you borrowed from the room.

But stop at execution, and you miss it. Connection is not extra. It’s the reason you showed up.

by Inman Hebert

Summer, despite its often-hectic schedules, offers horn students a chance for self-assessment, particularly within the practical side of being a musician. In April, we discussed resumes, but what about a headshot? If you have one, does it reflect who you are today? If not, create a plan to add an updated photograph to your portfolio.

If you have the resources, consider working with a professional photographer. Do you need someone more affordable? Look to other students who are launching their photography careers. To find the appropriate photographer, review the portrait photographs they have taken of others to determine if their quality and style suit your needs and desires. Just as we hope to be paid as musicians, photographers are also artists who expect to be paid for their work.

As another alternative, today’s cell phones have amazing cameras. Work out an arrangement with a friend or fellow musician. You will want a headshot, focusing primarily on your face and shoulders, and a musician portrait with a wider angle that may be more creative.

Even if working with a professional photographer, that individual likely has little experience with musician portraits. Look at photos of horn players online to determine attire and potential poses. A quick search shows a variety of results ranging from formal tuxedos and dresses to informal button-downs and blouses. The attire choice ultimately represents your personality. In browsing photographs of horn players online, carefully examine the poses. The horn photographs beautifully as an instrument. In what ways is it being held? Watch how the intricate parts of the horn often face the camera and where the hands are holding the horn in these photographs.

Match the attire and poses with potential backgrounds (which are often readily available on college campuses). Start paying attention to walls, the sides of buildings, steps, and greenery as potential options. Browse senior photos taken on your campus and evaluate if such settings would work for your portrait.

Backgrounds only work when combined with one of the most crucial aspects of portraiture: light. Look for soft, muted light, which creates more flattering portraits. Consider a cloudy day or the warm light from the golden hours after sunrise or before sunset. If shooting in harsh light, look for open shade in the shadows cast by objects such as tall buildings, doorway edges, or a forest’s boundary. Watch for dappled light and blown-out backgrounds. Change angles if squinting into the sun.

In portrait photography, eyes are considered the window to the soul. While an engaging photo may have you looking into the distance, the eyes should always be visible and in focus with the chin slightly down. Experiment with angles, the rule of thirds, and different distances, as the entire instrument need not be in the shot. Typically, eye-level shots prove more favorable. Most importantly, choose someone who can help you to feel comfortable in front of the camera so that the result represents the image and style you wish to portray.

by Todd Goranson

In addition to addressing performance anxiety and emotional wellness (see prior two issues of Horn and More), musicians should strive to be proactive in maintaining their physical health. As “artist-athletes,” musicians must be able to perform the athletic elements needed for tone production, articulation, technique, and listening if they intend to present art for their audiences.

The horn player is exposed to a variety of performance injury risks, including several musculoskeletal issues. Additionally, the repetitive physical demands on the performer can make it easy to dismiss a problem until it finally disrupts the ability to perform. Recent studies have shown the lifetime incidence rate for performance-related injury to be anywhere from 46-90%.^[1]

Performing musicians should benefit from being as “body-aware” as professional dancers. The adage to “play through the pain” when we experience discomfort must be replaced with an acknowledgement that any pain sensation is the body demanding attention. Is the lumbar region of your back sore from “twisting” during a long practice session? Do your lips or teeth experience sensitivity from mouthpiece pressure? Do your joints become sore, or do you experience a change in sensation in your fingers? These are all potential indications of strain or injury and require immediate attention; ignoring something as simple as “embouchure burn” or cramping can develop into an injury. Perhaps the most important step we can take to prevent or mitigate musculoskeletal injury is to notice and then stop and assess possible causes of the discomfort or change in sensation. It is also critically important for educators to remind students that they must rest, even if briefly, if they experience embouchure or joint pain. I remind each of my students that it is their responsibility to talk with me if they experience any pain from playing. Repetitive use injuries, such as carpal tunnel syndrome and tendonitis, often result from ignoring discomfort until it progresses into a debilitating issue.

Proper body alignment (including that of our head, neck, shoulders, back and hips, wrists, hands, and fingers) when sitting or standing with our instrument is a primary goal, and efficiency is our friend in this matter. Ease of movement, as well as maintaining straight lines or gentle curves in hands and joints when holding and playing is paramount. Sit in a tall, athletic position (i.e. feet bearing the weight of the legs on the floor, distributing the weight of hips and upper body across the surface of the chair, head floating above the shoulders, shoulders above the hips, etc.). The asymmetrical nature of horn playing makes it easy to misalign the spine or put excessive pressure on the hips, lower back, and parts of the left hand. Some horns include an adjustable flipper and pinky hook for the left hand, while most others can be adjusted by a trustworthy repair technician. This is an inexpensive investment in your long-term health and comfort and should be a topic of discussion with your horn students, as well. Consulting an Alexander Technique instructor (and bringing your horn to a session) is a great starting point for optimizing posture and carriage. Pain or damage from excessive mouthpiece pressure as well as repetitive use injuries to the hands/wrists are common risks for the horn player. Body awareness and regular intervals of rest in our practice routine are invaluable tools for addressing these issues. Do not dismiss pain as “growing pains” from increased practice, advancing age, or a badge of honor for hard work.

The benefits of implementing a daily routine that includes warming up and stretching the upper body and extremities are well-documented.^[2] Several of the stretches that I employ in my own routine are demonstrated in YouTube videos that are linked in my endnotes for this article.^{[3] [4] [5]} (Disclaimer: always consult with your primary care provider before starting a new exercise or stretching regimen, and never continue a stretch if it results in pain or loss of sensation.) Warming up cold muscles and joints and resting tired ones should be considered “best practices” in our field. If we expand our awareness during practice and performance time to notice tension in our back, neck, shoulders, or hips, we can often easily address the issue with basic stretches or with rest.

There are many well-written online resources available for horn players (and musicians, in general) addressing common musculoskeletal issues and to how address them. These are certainly worth exploring. I also recommend having regular discussions with your primary care health provider about concerns you may have about changes in your health. Many of you may have musician/sports medicine specialists in your area, and your physician should be able to provide a referral to these or other physical/occupational therapists if a visit is advised.

Other keys to injury prevention and mitigation include proper nutrition, adequate sleep and rest, and regular exercise that enhances both strength and flexibility. Giving our bodies the attention, rest, fuel, and care they need will increase the likelihood that we can meet the physical demands of our craft without injury or, if necessary, recover from injury with greater success.

Todd Goranson, DMA, BSN, RN
Professor of Saxophone & Bassoon
Messiah University

Chamber Music Corner—Vivian Fung’s Bounce

by Layne Anspach

This month’s CMC will focus on Vivian Fung’s Bounce for violin, horn, and piano. Vivian Fung (b. 1975) is a Canadian composer now residing in the US. She began her training under the tutelage of Violet Archer then completed her doctoral studies at The Juilliard School. She has written large orchestral works, concertos, operas, and chamber music. Fung’s compositions can be heard on a dozen different albums and in concert halls around the world.

Bounce (2016) was commissioned by the Women’s Musical Club of Toronto and was premiered in Toronto on November 24, 2016. The work is inspired by the composer’s son who, as a newborn, “had the habit of banging his head against his mattress to soothe himself to sleep.” Fung writes of the work that “the idea of a constant drone or thump remains constant, with a deep ostinato that permeates the beginning.”

The opening section, which Fung describes as having a “leisurely ebb and flow of harmonies,” finds repeated notes among all voices, primarily in violin and piano. These figures are largely left up to the individual performer on frequency and severity. The horn grounds the section with sustained notes. The listener can hear harmonics played by violin and piano, but the section ends with a long, descending glissando between horn and violin.

The second section (2:54) starts with four chromatic pitches repeated by the violin but soon joined by sextuplets in the piano. The section grows, and finally the full ensemble arrives together on a single hit then calms immediately after. The players haphazardly gather the musical fragments (4:05) into what Fung describes as “the playfulness of the bouncy scherzo-like middle sections.”

A horn call interjects (5:37); this is the preface to a short, bell-like section introduced in the piano, and this quickly turns to what Fung describes as a “schizophrenic culmination.” The violin interrupts the animation, and multiphonics on horn follow prior to the propulsion to the end of the work. There are three a piacere sections—first and third by violin and second by horn—which separate the four main areas of the work. The work provides technical challenges for each performer, and it will certainly diversify the listening experience on a program.

in English

por Ricardo Matosinhos 

Este é o primeiro de uma série de pequenos artigos dedicados ao registo grave da trompa.

“Nem só de pão vive o homem, nem só de notas agudas vive o trompista.”

O registo grave é um domínio essencial a desenvolver. Constitui a base para a formação de uma embocadura adequada e para a produção de um som de qualidade. Por isso, deve ser trabalhado desde tenra idade — caso contrário, os intérpretes podem vir a arrepender-se mais tarde.

Contexto histórico: a influência da trompa natural

Tradicionalmente, os métodos de trompa e as peças a solo começam por volta do dó central e tendem a subir em direcção ao registo agudo. Esta tendência tem origem na trompa natural, cujo espectro harmónico se torna mais prático acima do dó central. Nesse registo, os intervalos entre harmónicos estreitam-se — de terceiras para segundas, e eventualmente para meios-tons por volta do sol agudo — permitindo uma execução melódica com pouco ou nenhum recurso à técnica de paragem com a mão.

A invenção das válvulas no século XIX expandiu as possibilidades cromáticas da trompa, sobretudo no registo grave. Notas que antes exigiam uma combinação de técnicas da mão direita e flexibilidade labial passaram a poder ser tocadas em posição aberta, utilizando as válvulas. Poder-se-ia pensar que tal inovação teria levado de imediato os compositores a escrever de forma mais extensiva neste registo — mas a tradição mostrou-se mais resistente.

Havia, e de certa forma ainda existe, uma regra não escrita segundo a qual a música escrita para trompa com válvulas deveria continuar a ser exequível na trompa natural. Esta abordagem idiomática manteve-se durante grande parte da era das válvulas e teve várias consequências — especialmente no que diz respeito à notação.

O dilema das claves

A música escrita para trompa natural era maioritariamente escrita em clave de sol, sendo a clave de fá reservada para passagens graves muito específicas — normalmente por volta do segundo e terceiro harmónicos (por exemplo, dó grave e sol grave). Para complicar ainda mais, os sistemas de notação mais antigos utilizavam a clave de fá uma oitava abaixo do que hoje é considerado standard.

O registo natural da trompa situa-se essencialmente na zona média. Contudo, devido ao uso tradicional das claves de sol e fá, a trompa nunca chegou a adoptar a clave de dó, que poderia ter oferecido um sistema de notação mais eficiente para esse intervalo.

A clave de fá antiga permitia aos intérpretes ler num registo grave alargado sem necessidade de mudanças frequentes de clave — de forma semelhante ao papel da clave de dó noutros instrumentos. Mas com o desaparecimento da notação antiga em clave de fá, os trompistas modernos ficam obrigados a navegar entre a clave de sol, a clave de fá (na forma moderna) e numerosas linhas suplementares abaixo da pauta.

Alguns tratados de orquestração recomendam o uso da clave de sol para a trompa, excepto nos extremos do registo. Isto faz sentido se considerarmos o repertório para trompa natural. Por exemplo, o método de Oscar Franz indica notas bastante graves ainda em clave de sol. No entanto, a realidade é mais complexa. À medida que o cromatismo e as técnicas alargadas se tornaram mais comuns, estas directrizes perderam clareza.

Qualquer trompista o confirmará: ao chegar à quarta linha suplementar abaixo da pauta em clave de sol, a leitura torna-se um desafio. Em contextos de textura complexa, ou quando há multifónicos envolvidos, o uso paralelo das claves de sol e fá (como acontece na notação para piano) pode revelar-se uma alternativa útil. Tenho adoptado esta solução em algumas das minhas composições, embora esteja longe de ser uma prática padronizada.

Desafios na leitura das claves — e porque são importantes

Os trompistas devem estar preparados para ler em clave de sol, clave de fá (tanto na forma moderna como na antiga), e lidar com múltiplas linhas suplementares — frequentemente combinadas com notas em som bouché transposições. É exigente, mas necessário.

Compreender o uso histórico das claves ao longo do registo da trompa dá-nos um contexto valioso para perceber a importância e os desafios da execução no registo grave atualmente.

Na próxima edição, abordarei as oportunidades e dificuldades do uso da trompa grace nos dias de hoje.

Ein Waldhorn Lustig

by Caiti Beth McKinney

Hello all, and happy Symposium month! This June, I want to draw your attention to the orchestral music of an outstanding composer whose music we almost completely lost—Julia Perry (1924-1979). Born in Lexington, Kentucky USA, Julia was a skilled singer, pianist, and violinist. She studied composition with Nadia Boulanger and won two Guggenheim Fellowships. In 1951, Perry wrote a work for solo contralto and string orchestra to the text of Stabat Mater and was subsequently rocketed to international fame. It was an experimental work for the composer, playing with dissonance and quartal harmonies while remaining inside the realm of tonality.

Over her lifetime, Perry shifted away from vocal compositions toward more instrumental works. She composed twelve symphonies, at least one of which was written for concert band. The piece I want to introduce to you today, however, is not a symphony but a standalone orchestral work Perry titled A Short Piece for Orchestra. To my ear, the opening sounds straight out of a score for an Alfred Hitchcock film, with jagged, angular motifs and dissonances. However, as the piece evolves and slows, a satisfyingly challenging horn solo (2:11) briefly soars above the strings and woodwinds. As this work becomes more and more mainstream with symphony orchestras, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Short Piece appear on audition lists.

A quick warning: Perry’s experience is an example of what can happen to music after composers die if the rights to their scores is unclear. After she suffered a series of strokes in the 1970s, Perry lost all mobility in the right side of her body and was forced to teach herself to write with her left hand to keep composing. She continued sending scores off to publishing companies who dismissed her efforts, despite her earlier fame and success. One even claimed they were simply “too busy with inventory” to accept her submissions (although it may well be that they were being casually racist and/or sexist). Perry, unfortunately, passed away far too young at the age of 55, and her mother died soon after, leaving no immediate descendants to care for her manuscripts. Her compositions subsequently became tied up in probate court with questions over copyright, and it is only in the last 5 years that advocates for Perry’s works have been successfully publishing and performing her pieces.

by Jennifer Montone, IHS 57 Featured Artist; Principal Horn, The Philadelphia Orchestra

The music field is a wonderful but sometimes stressful place. We constantly ride the rollercoaster of striving for artistic excellence while accepting the sobering reality of our own humanness. Our mental well-being is hugely important to the quality of our playing. We perform better with "cheerleader" voices in our heads instead of "critics." We perform more expressively, bravely, freely, musically, and excitingly when we feel supported and respected. It's simply more joyous to collaborate musically in friendly environments. Research consistently shows that working in open, inclusive, supportive, safe, and collaborative musical environments is better for our growth, happiness, health, and excellence.

Yet, perfectionism, pedestal thinking, and power dynamics often complicate things. One powerful solution is the concept of holding space: "Creating a safe, non-judgmental environment where someone can feel seen, heard, and understood without being interrupted or controlled." What a beautiful sentiment!

Embracing Imperfection for Excellence

"Excellence is the result of caring more than others think is smart, risking more than others think is safe, trying more than others think is wise, and expecting more than others think is possible."

In this age of recordings and YouTube, where perfection sometimes feels more valued than expression, we often feel paralyzed by the fear of failure. We might feel judged by colleagues, harangued by self-doubt, berating ourselves mercilessly for mistakes, weeping into our pillows, and joking about FOMO (fear of missing out) and imposter syndrome. It's hard to ever feel "good enough" or "perfect enough."

Awesome antidotes to perfectionism include internal pep talks, meditation, yoga, proactive phrasing, using musical adjectives, playing with love, riding excitement waves, singing from the heart, and simply having fun. It's also helpful to remember: we don't choose our friends, spouses, pets, or homes for their perfection; we love them because of how they make us feel. The same is true with music. True excellence, beauty, and passion manifest in incredible, human, and therefore beautifully imperfect ways. By holding space for ourselves, we honor and celebrate every artistic attempt—big or small, close to perfect or not. We celebrate our commitment, heartfelt caring, brave risk-taking, and hard work towards excellence.

"May I feel safe, healthy, at peace.…"

Learning from Everyone: Beyond the Pedestal

"Every person is my teacher in some way: in that, I learn from them."

We live in a world of categorizing and comparing ourselves, and for most horn players, often worrying we aren't measuring up. While "pedestal thinking" can sometimes inspire us, it can also brutalize us. We can all be more mindful of how we navigate this.

The alternative to an invisible caste system is to purposefully empower and lift up ourselves and others, honoring lifelong learning from all sources. Let's celebrate every success around us, whether prestigious, high-paying, or not directly in the music field. We know that everyone who plays music is a musician, an artist—sharing their gifts, making the world a better place, inspiring, provoking thought, and opening minds and hearts. This is true no matter the location, level, title, income, or percentage of playing versus other employment. With appreciation for the specialness of each artistic voice, we hold space for each other, celebrating all types of successes based on the concept of inherent worth: each person deserving of great respect.

"May you feel safe, healthy, at peace.…"

Navigating Hierarchies with Respect

"Sometimes, courage doesn’t roar. Sometimes, courage is the quiet voice in the night, whispering, 'I will try again tomorrow.'"

Our field has natural hierarchies that organize how we learn and work together. However, these can unfortunately lead to dangerous and harmful power dynamics. We've all experienced teacher/student, coach/chamber group, conductor/orchestra musician, principal/section member, and contractor/freelancer hierarchies. These roles necessitate colleagues respectfully promoting safe, supportive atmospheres. Thankfully, this is mostly the case.

But we are all human, and many of us have also experienced or witnessed disrespectful, inappropriate, mean-spirited, or demeaning behavior—designed to make one person feel smaller or less worthy than another—for all kinds of reasons. We can collectively acknowledge the pain and inequity in our institutional past, and together, we can navigate, heal from, and move past it to change the culture for the future.

Horn players are caring, warm, and supportive individuals, giving us a unique opportunity to bond together and address problems in our own workplaces and schools. We celebrate how we hold space as a community: ensuring that people of all races, genders, ages, and orientations are treated with respect; creating an environment where it feels safe to disclose things, to say "I'm sorry, I messed up. I want to do differently next time," or "Hey, are you okay?" and to discuss equity and to problem-solve collaboratively.

"May we all feel safe, healthy, at peace.…"

The Power of Collectively Holding Space

Holding space—for ourselves, each other, and the whole world—can profoundly help with perfectionism, pedestal thinking, and power dynamics. With this collective spirit, we create safe spaces for us all to bloom personally and artistically.

I am part of an amazing new nonprofit, the Coalition of Musicians for Ethical Change, and we hope you'll consider joining us! We are a community of musicians supporting the establishment of safe and supportive work and school environments where musicians of all ages, genders, and races can thrive musically and professionally. We offer educational programs at schools and festivals, provide support if you need it, and host town halls to discuss these topics in a warm, open, inclusive, non-judgmental forum. For more information, please visit: https://www.musiciansforethicalchange.org/

Additionally, at IHS 57, as in the past few years (thank you, wonderful IHS leaders, for promoting these important sessions!), there will be a panel discussion about equity in the horn world. I hope you'll all come for an uplifting, collaborative conversation about how we can experience more joy through holding space for ourselves, each other, and our entire field!