Back Pressure: Important or not?

I've seen musicians perform with broken and sprained limbs, severe cuts, stomach viruses, colds and a plethora of other injuries and maladies which might put other people out of commission. We hide injuries from professors, family and even collegueges to prevent ourselves from being taken out of the event.  I am no different.

What will absolutely prevent me from performing?  Not breathing.  If you can't breath, you can't play any instrument.  The oboe requires not just 'normal air' but also immense amounts of back pressure.  I've played with stuffy head colds, and thankingfully only passed out once.  Once was all it took to teach me how hard and far I could push myself when I'm sick.  The pain caused by the building back pressure when you've got a cold is unlike any migraine or headache I've ever experienced.

So you can understand why I was estactic when my end of January cold seemed to have no effect on my back pressure.  There was no pain, no fluid in the lungs, no reason for me to postpone my recital.  Sure, playing made me a little more tired than usual but nothing I couldn't handle.  Green lights all the way.

The first hint of trouble came the week before my recital in rehearsals, but nothing bad enough to postpone my recital.  It was not until the night of my recital, when the trouble hit full force.  In the first solo piece, the Dittersdorf oboe concerto, I began experiencing a strange phenomenon.  I've found no other way to describe this, so feel free to laugh and offer suggestions.  I still had air in my lungs to play and my lips were still covering the reed properly.  Yet there was air escaping through my sinuses and out my nose, preventing any semblance of back pressure.  No back pressure, no sound.  Well, that's not really correct.  There was a sound.  Ever laugh through your nose, like a snorting type of laugh?  That was the sound, except I had no control over it.  I tried dropping my air support to lower the pressure on my sinuses.  That helped, but only to a point.  Not to mention dropping air support is never a good idea.  I had nothing left, but to keep going.  

I did.  I couldn't just quit at that point, so I pulled out my inner performer and kept my head high.  Due to an amazing accompanist, I was able the stretch different phrases to keep things as musical as possible.  I made the decision to do the best I could with what I had.

I'm not sure what I could have done to prevent, or even predict, this problem.  It is not one that I've experienced before or even heard others talk about encountering.  Hopefully it will not be something I will have to deal with again, although I know it will be one of those things that would make me seriously consider postponing a recital.

The importance of excellent accompanists

It is a topic rarely discussed and often overlooked, but an accompanist can often times make or break a performance.  Sometimes the piano part is merely an accompaniment to what the soloist plays, but it can also be a whole other part, turning a solo piece into a duet.

I'm preparing for my senior performance recital and today had my first rehearsal with my accompanist.  She is a full-time staff accompanist at the school, and assigned to me by the piano professor.  I've heard her play before, but never actually worked with her before.  Due to some confusion last semester, this is the soonest we could rehearse.  As my hearing is in less than a week, I have been stressing about how everything will fit together.  My rep consists of Two Pieces for Solo Oboe by Ross Edwards, Concerto in G Major by Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf, Omaggio a Bellini by Antonio Pasculli and Scena by Colin Brumby.  The latter two are for English horn.  The rep is not impossible, but what you would expect on a music performance major's senior recital.  None of them are "fluff" pieces.

When playing with other people, whether a chamber ensemble or just a duet, there is the initial introductions of "My name is..." and what have you.  Still, there is another aspect of introduction - that first time you actually get work and start playing together.  The first notes are the initial "This is me," which is followed by the other person answering "And this is me."  You must quickly learn how they move and how to read their body language.  I was blessed as a young oboist to work with great musicians who not only technically played the pieces well, but also reacted to the musical stylings I presented.  As I got older, I was able to react to their musical ideas as well.  Chamber music is not just about playing your notes, but also listening to those around you.  This must take place in a larger ensemble setting, but there is a conductor who becomes the point person for the musical conversation taking place.

I've been in both positions, as the soloist and as the accompanist.  I know the importance of being able to follow as well as being able to lead.  It is a skill that I find is often missed in the education of young musicians, even in the collegiate levels.  Still, I do my part to encourage others to learn the skill and understand its importance.

Because of my accompanist's amazing ability to perform this skill, my stress leveling has dropped considerably.  I am actually enjoying the rep and looking forward to the recital.

Finding the perfect dress over Christmas break didn't hurt either!