There are many things one can do with time. Some of them are useful, some of them not, and some of them require one label or another. Today I spent time that qualified for a label: Tech Geek Time.

One of the enjoyable things about running a website such as this is getting to play with the virtual gadgets that are made to help make your website more interesting, easier to maintain, more user friendly. Today I found one that will make the website easier to maintain and also a bit cooler for the user, IMHO.

If you check the LivMusic front page you will see that I have removed the banner in the top middle and replaced it with links to this blog. Here comes the cool part: whenever I write a new post, the title shows up in that box automatically, courtesy of the good folks at Feedburner (the company that handles the RSS feed for the site). So, you will always be able to see the five most recent posts on LivMusic Interactive from the LivMusic home page. What’s the best part? You guessed it. It all happens with no further work from me. How cool is that!? It’s like free practice time. Speaking of, I’m off to get some of that in right now.

I remember the feeling well: the feeling that responsibility was lifted, that opportunity lay around every corner, that every day contained the seed of adventure. I had just finished my junior year in high school when my best friend and I were heading out in his blue MG convertible. We pulled out of the school parking lot and turned on the radio. The not-so-dulcet tones of Alice Cooper belting out “School’s Out” filled our ears, only to be overwhelmed by our own really-not-so-dulcet voices joining in. Freedom was our wind; time was our sail; the whole world awaited us. We would achieve great things and have unforgettable experiences…

I have no idea what I did with myself that summer. Well, actually I do, but I have no idea what I did to improve myself as a trumpet player or musician over that summer. I had already decided that I wanted to be a professional trumpet player, and I know I practiced over that summer, but I don’t know what I improved, if I improved anything at all. There I was, focused on a career in which it is excruciatingly difficult to achieve success. I had the whole summer to focus on improving my playing and make big progress towards achieving my dreams. How did I spend my time? Well, I won’t tell you her name, but suffice it to say that I wasn’t too focused on my trumpet playing! Even with no distractions at all, though, my progress may not have been great. Why? Simple. I didn’t really know what I needed to be working on in order to be truly productive.

Determining what to work on while outside the guidance of a teacher is a very common problem and/or concern among students. At the end of every school year, I am bombarded by questions from students about what they should work on over the summer. Sometimes the students seem bewildered, curious, or even a bit afraid. These reactions are understandable. Staring into the kaleidoscope of seemingly endless summer can be daunting. There you are, perched on the abyss of long and empty summer days. You are certain you will jump, but uncertain about how or when, or, most importantly, what the outcome will be. Having so much freedom in your life is truly a blessing, but it is also a challenge. How will you mold your putty of time into something that satisfies your various goals and desires? On the surface, this question may seem simple, but the deeper you dig, the more complex it becomes until you suddenly realize the dizzying array of options that are at your disposal. Ten different things that you want or need to do are whirling around in your mind, but plucking one out of the air and setting your aims on it can often be like the scene with the keys from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone: once you grab one, then the rest instantly and ruthlessly give chase.

Some of you, I know, can feel no sympathy for someone that has so much time that they are not quite sure what to do, and you are probably thinking that you would gladly trade your problem for theirs. You may well be justified in feeling this way, but it is certainly easier, and more common, to underestimate the thorniness of this issue, rather than to overestimate it. You might be surprised how difficult it is to know what you should be working on or how to go about organizing your practice day when you have an array of endless possibilities at your disposal. Imagine kayaking in the middle of the ocean; you can go in any direction you please, but going the direction you want is another matter entirely. For those of you that are operating without a compass, this article is for you.

When deciding what you should work on over your summer break, you first need to establish some goals. Your goals should avoid focusing on achievement – like getting a higher chair at the beginning of school auditions – but rather with your playing itself. Pick the five trumpet skills that create the most fear for you – the skills that make you squirm in your seat when an upcoming passage features them prominently. Write these five items down in order, with number one being the skill you fear the most. Once that is done, begin building a practice schedule that will help you eliminate those weaknesses.

Without fail, I recommend that people do a big amount of foundation work over the summer. Heavy doses of Stamp exercises have done wonders for some of my students over the years. If you have questions about how to practice these exercises or are unfamiliar with them, you can refer to my earlier article series, Stamping It Out, Part I, II, and III, to get more information. Focusing on the true foundation of your playing can help you play in a healthier, more efficient manner. It is easy to treat summertime practice like summertime reading: whimsical and carefree. But it is important to remember that this is probably your best opportunity to change or solidify your basic playing setup.

Beyond foundation work, take a look at your previously mentioned list of five weaknesses. Decide what type of exercises need to be done to improve that particular aspect of your playing, and then bury yourself in them. Keep focused on the fundamental weaknesses in your playing. Do these things first in your day, every day. After that, enjoy discovering some new music. Make a list of music that you have wanted to learn, but have never quite found the time. As your summer marches by, check pieces you have played off your list. These can be solos, etudes, or excerpts, or any combination of the above. Focus on material that you have the greatest desire or need to learn, but remember, your fundamentals must have top priority.

If you do all of these things, your playing will improve, but if you really want it to flourish, then you would do well to keep a practice journal. Make a practice schedule for the following day and write it down. As you move through your scheduled material, write it down. Augment your entries with notes about how it went and how you felt. Keeping this type of journal will keep you on track and focused, and it will help you track the progress you are making. At the end of the summer, you will be able to flip through your journal and see that an exercise you initially struggled with at quarter = 64, you now play effortlessly at quarter = 138; or you will read about your straining high C that has turned into a confident Eb. These types of written notes are powerful. Don’t underestimate their value.

It is true that staying on course over the sparse summer landscape can be a challenge, but it is this challenge that represents perhaps your greatest opportunity for improvement. Get organized. Work hard. Make the most of this incredibly valuable time. And God help you if you meet a girl…

Three days, 12,000 performances. The plausibility of the numbers may seem dubious, but they are correct. What’s more, each performance was given by a high school teenager enrolled in band, orchestra, or choir. Where can one see such an event, you ask? If you know much about high school music programs in the United States, the answer will come as no surprise – Texas.

Each year the Texas State Solo and Ensemble Competition (TSSEC), held at the University of Texas and Texas State Universities, plays host to the most talented high school music students from all across this sprawling state. From twirlers to trombones, voices to violas, this competition has categories for just about anything that relates to music at the high school level. Busloads of high school students arrive at the campus and disperse into small packs that prowl the area looking for a place to meet, warm up, have lunch, or relax. Everywhere you walk, you hear playing or singing; you see equipment of all shapes and sizes being whisked here and there. You see Band Directors frantically trying to gather their students together, only to launch them off a moment later in twelve different directions, a room number nervously clutched in their young hands. These students will somehow find this room and go on to perform for what they may see as some grouchy taskmaster of a judge that is there to dissect their performance like one of those frogs from high school biology class. Yes, you guessed it; that’s where I come in.

Truth be known, those judges aren’t actually grouchy taskmasters at all. In fact, the judges are people who dedicate their valuable time, energy, and expertise to helping young students learn and improve ­– doing whatever they can to further the art of musical performance amongst the young people of today. When I was asked to serve as a judge at TSSEC, I was honored and delighted. For me, judging this competition is a means of coming full circle. I have attended it as a Band Director’s son – watching the chaos through a child’s eyes – as a participant – nervously anticipating a performance into which I have invested hundreds of hours of preparation – and now as a judge – listening to the performances and setting the standard by which these young musicians will be evaluated. I have now seen the full spectrum of this unique event, and quite honestly, the more I see of it, the more I am amazed. It is an organizational miracle that it doesn’t simply implode upon itself, a miracle that is secured by the tireless work of its Director, Richard Floyd, and his incredible team.

Even more incredible, however, are the performances themselves. They aren’t all spectacular, though some of them should definitely have you scurrying to your practice room, but they are all interesting in one way or another. Some students arrive dressed in suits or formal dresses, others in jeans and sandals (not the best choice for a good impression on the judge). Some walk in confidently, shaking the judge’s hand and introducing themselves, while others enter quietly, as if they don’t want to be seen. The students come from a wide array of racial, cultural, and economic backgrounds. Some of them sport shiny new professional level instruments, while others arrive with something that looks like it was bought for $50 at a local garage sale. But almost every one of these students shares common bonds: they care about music, and they care about playing their instrument. Sure, some of them care more than others, and some of them are not blissfully in love with playing their instrument, but they all care on one level or another. They have all made sacrifices to attend. They have chosen to practice instead of watching TV, talking on the phone, or playing a video game. They have spent many hours refining their solo, trying to make it the best that they can. They have experienced the frustration of continued failure and the joy of the unexpected breakthrough. In addition to this, there is the matter of their attendance. After all, they are present and accounted for. They have chosen to dedicate their Memorial Day Weekend to one short performance of 5-10 minutes in a place that for some of them is over 500 miles away. They could have gone to the lake, to the beach, to a movie with friends, or on an outing with their family, but they have shunned theses things, and instead have traveled to Austin, Texas, where they sit chewing their nails in nervous anticipation of the performance that awaits them. Of all the things I observed as a judge, the mere presence of all these people is perhaps the most meaningful. Some of the students would be very quick to point out that this competition is not a big deal, that playing their instrument is not so important to them. We can’t necessarily believe everything they say, however. After all, it is seldom cool to admit that you are gaga over playing your trombone. But at the end of the day, where are they? What choice did they make for how to spend their weekend? That’s right, they are at the competition. It’s another classic example of actions speaking louder than words.

So what’s the point? You understand it’s a nice competition, but why write an article about it and broadcast it to trumpet players all over the globe? The point is about passion and significance. In this day and age of pop media rule, of techno-gadgets and video games, where we are we brusquely informed about what is cool and what is not, it can be very easy to feel as if playing an instrument is simply not that significant anymore, as if we are exercising some ancient ritual that is getting more and more detached from the pace of modern life. But before you put playing a musical instrument in the Museum of Ancient Human Hobbies, remember these things: one state, three days, 12,000 performances. Also remember that all of the performances were given by teenagers – the same people that are the painted by the media as self-absorbed, iPod using, video game playing slackers, whose lack of work ethic and morality surely signal the end of civilization as we know it. This, however, we know cannot be true. I took a long, hard look around while walking the halls at TSSEC. I saw students with a purpose, students with a cause. These young people have worked hard to hone their musical abilities in order to display them in the best possible light. Some have succeeded, some have failed, but all of them are making a statement: playing a musical instrument is important; it is worth making sacrifices.

The next time you start feeling like playing the trumpet is an obscure obsession, the type shared only by stick-horse jockeys and professional Scrabble players, just remember these numbers: 12,000 and 3. Remind yourself of the sacrifices, the hard work, the frustration, and think too about the joy of a performance that exceeds expectations. Think again about that last weekend in May, where a bunch of Texas teenagers remind us about the value of making music that is all your own. Remember these things when you are lost in the blinding array of modern marketing and gadgetry. There are a lot of wonderful things in our world today, but no matter how you draw it, it is certainly clear, playing a musical instrument remains firmly entrenched as a valued pursuit in our fast-forward world.