An Oboe Lesson with the Old Man

I started this as a Facebook post a few days ago, but took it down and decided to write a full blog post.

I've never been great at pitch -- my own or someone else's. Sharp? Flat? Adjust up, adjust down? Is it right now? No idea. It's a terrible thing for a child of two music teachers to admit. It's even worse for an oboist to admit, given that we give the tuning note for the ensemble. But, that's what tuners are for, right? Well, something hasn't been right with my pitch, or so I thought. I always leave my tuner on during rehearsals, but now I started keeping it on during my practice sessions. Sharp. Regardless of the reed, the weather...sharp on all notes above middle B. 

I talked to Neil. Which reed? All reeds. Which notes? Everything over B. Well, you could have a crack. A crack? Had I cracked Neil's beloved, old Laubin? I confessed to Neil that in a moment of weakness I had pulled out my reed 1 millimeter to get my pitch down during rehearsal. I think that he audibly gasped in horror. 

 So, he would help. I clearly needed help if I was adjusting my reed! But, you know how couples are...you say we should do such and such. Both parties agree. It comes up daily, but for some reason it takes a while to get around to it. 

I finally got a lesson this past weekend. Neil almost never plays when I play. He occasionally grabs my horn and tests a reed or a note when I have questions, but it's not like we play duets or anything. Oboe playing is work, not for idle joy. (Okay, so I exaggerate a little.) So, sitting next to Neil makes me a little giddy. I'm more prone to mistakes and giggles. He has no tolerance for it. I don't get to be his wife in the studio, just a student. So, here's what I learned this past Sunday: As it turns out I'm just like every other amateur oboist.
  • I am a dedicated metronome user. Chalk it up to being raised by two music teachers. I wouldn't even know how to practice without a metronome. It would be like driving without a steering wheel. But, guess what? Even with all of that metronome use...I'm early. And, when I'm not early, I'm late.
  • And, when I am right on time for an entrance? I'm rushing. Turns out that I pretty much always rush the two sixteenth notes that follow an eighth note. Who knew? Neil knew.
  • Neil hadn't really watched me play in a while. Turns out that my embouchure needs work. At least he didn't say that my embouchure looks like a birth defect, as I have heard him say before. 
  • And, like all amateur oboists...I put too much reed in my mouth. That, too? Jeez. 
  • My vibrato sounds like a billy goat, so put that on the list as well.
  • Worst of all? I talk back to the teacher. Well, that's no surprise really, now is it?
I know that you're dying to know about my pitch problem. Here I was, fretting for weeks about my pitch, trying to get it lower. Asking Neil for help on the oboe is a bit like when you go to the doctor for a strained muscle or to the mechanic for a rattle in your car. All those problems go away when you finally are in a position to get the help that you need. I didn't seem to have as many pitch problems. Still, I was worried. What about my pitch? You're in tune with me, so it's perfect.

Ah, yes. That sounds about like Neil Boyer. The only thing that went wrong was that I forgot to get a picture of the two of us. Next time. 

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