Lessons from the Back Row

Two months ago, I did something I had not done in

over five years. I began playing the tuba again. I pity
my fellow musicians in the Florence Community
Band of Massachusetts during that first rehearsal.
After a half-decade off, my tone was less Harvey
Phillips and more in line with the sounds of the River
City boys band, during their (in)famous debut in The
Music Man. I tried to practice before the rehearsal and
was shocked at how tired I became. I do not
remember the tuba being such hard work. It was an
exercise in futility to hold any note below an A flat for
more than two beats. Perhaps something about the
physics of the instrument had changed, or maybe my
lungs had collapsed and I was just now finding out
about it. Admittedly, my tuba playing had never been
mistaken for Gene Pokorny, but even average tuba
chops would be a step up from where I was now.
My plan for the first rehearsal was to avoid
revealing my day job as a band director. I did not
want any advance expectations of how well I would
play. Afterward, I was pleasantly surprised at how
much I enjoyed the experience. After many years of
conducting, the role of an instrumentalist was a joy.
The communal act of ensemble music making is very
fulfilling. It is nearly impossible to put into words,

but anyone who has played in a group knows the

feeling. Music teachers know this but I think we tend
to take it for granted. I know I had.
I have found that by playing again, I have gained a
new perspective as a conductor. For much of this past
semester, I found myself frequently chastising the
concert band tuba section for falling behind. I do not
know if a single rehearsal occurred in which I did not
remind them to watch. When I started playing again
though, I found myself exactly in their shoes. It turns
out that telling someone to watch the conductor is not
the magic elixir I had always assumed it to be.
Musicians need to know what they are watching are
for, and what to do with that information. Likewise,
anticipate the beat and play lighter are more difficult
for players to implement than I had remembered. I
had lost the practitioners perspective. Remember,
practice what you preach.
There are numerous examples of things that I now
better understand including intonation. Typically, my
ensembles tuned during the warm-up portion of our
rehearsal. They got a pitch from the first chair tuba
and then played a chorale. After that, it was onto the
business of rehearsing the music. Returning to the
tuba has opened my eyes to how constant the
intonation battle is. Being in tune on the concert F and
Bb is not the same as being in tune on every chord,
nor on every pitch on an instrument. Years ago, when

I played tuba regularly as an undergraduate, I

assumed I was in tune after the tuning pitch and left it
at that. I now have a tuner on the stand, and check
every pitch on the horn. As a conductor, I am much
more aware of tuning individual chords; that concert
B flat only goes so far. From dynamics to articulation,
the rediscovered perspective of a player is changing
my approach as a conductor.
The two most important things I have taken from
my return to the back row, though, are not related to
the physical aspects of playing. The first is rehearsal
technique. Many of us go to our students honor
bands and observe the rehearsals. The guest
conductor is typically someone of renown, and the
hope is to pick up some of the tricks of the trade.
While there is much to be gained from this, you are
still an outsider to the ensembles experience. Players
have a better view of a conductors efficacy as they
enact the conductors comments and translate
gestures into sound. We all remember conductors for
whom we really enjoyed playing, just as we
remember those less than enjoyable experiences. My
teaching style is a reflection of the many conductors
that I have worked with and played under. When
directors stop playing in an ensemble, they lose that
resource.
There is a reason many of the summer conducting
symposiums require participation in an ensemble.

While this satisfies the basic need of providing

enough players to constitute a band, it also provides
that valuable players perspective. You are not just
listening to someone give rehearsal tips; you live it.
Since resuming playing, I find each rehearsal becomes
a way to evaluate my own teaching. As a player, how
involved am I in what is going on? What am I doing
while the conductor focuses on the clarinets? When
he cuts off the ensemble and makes a correction, do I
pay attention or does my mind wander? How often
do I find my eyes glancing up at the clock? I use my
feelings as a player to evaluate how students
experience my teaching in rehearsals.
I also have realized that there are many reasons
why people participate in music. The members of the
Florence Community Band range from middle school
students to some in their 80s. Everyone has their own
reason for joining the group, but what unifies us is
that indefinable feeling that comes from making
music with an ensemble. This should be at the heart
of what we do as music educators.
School directors often pursue public approval, in the
form of ratings from judges or the ovation of an
audience. These are easily identifiable examples of
success, and are recognized as such by our students.
If we work hard enough and perform to our best, we
will be rewarded. I do not think we always speak
enough of musics intrinsic rewards. Performing

groups are a communal activity, and in our quest for

excellence, we should always remain open to the
possibility of musical wonder. We experienced it at
some point; it is why we chose our profession. Be it a
jazz band, a brass quintet, a concert band, or a
marching group, students should always be aware of
just how special making music is. It is an experience I
did not quite understand, from only participating at
the conductors end of the spectrum.
There are over 1,300 community bands and
orchestras in the United States. If you are not
currently playing, I encourage you to search for an
ensemble. Reconnect with the experiences that
motivated you to take up the cause of music in the
first place. Thanks to an open tuba spot in the
Florence Community Band, I now have a new
appreciation of the players perspective that helps me
as a director and gives new purpose to my teaching.
A final word of advice is to stick with it your lips
will come back into shape.