Bassoontalk

For Immediate Release – Public Service Announcement
Arts Wednesdays - Faculty of Arts - Free Public Speaker Series
“The Life of the Bassoon” - takes place at UBC Robson Square (800 Robson St.) on February 25th, 2009 at 6 pm. The talk is free and open to the public, but seating is limited. No registration is required. For more information call 604.822.4483 or visit www.arts.ubc.ca.
Indulge in an enchanting evening of performance and discussion with Professor Jesse Read (UBC School of Music) and his students as they whisk you away with the soothing sounds and mysterious story of the Bassoon.

Growing up in a musical family, Read was playing an instrument by the time he was old enough to hold one in his hand; soon enough the Bassoon’s curious nature and distinctive sound were more than enough to draw Read into its mysterious world. “I’ve made a lifetime and a career of this instrument,” says Read. “It’s in my blood.”

One of the more obscure instruments, the story of the Bassoon is every bit as intriguing as its appearance.
“It’s a tool for exploration and discovery; a device for communication,” says Read. “This instrument is part of the experience and discovery of music.” Prompted by its unknown nature, Read spent much time travelling and exploring; being brought from Basel, Switzerland where he devoted himself to advanced music study, to the Netherlands where he has performed, taught at the Conservatory in Utrecht and recorded, and back to Vancouver where he has served as Conductor and Music Director of the Vancouver Philharmonic Orchestra.
“I visited libraries big and small, museums, wherever there are big collections of music, and I’ve discovered many interesting pieces of music,” exclaims Read. “I’ve also realized that this is an instrument that can do a lot of other things. I want to be able to express my enthusiasm for this instrument as well as the larger picture.”

Finding pieces from Vivaldi, Bach and Verdi, artwork from Degas and many more, Read has helped to expose the Bassoon’s robust past. From 18th C. to modern pieces, a once hidden repertoire of music has been revealed – but why then did it not evolve in the same manner as the more well known instruments, like the flute or oboe? This is just one of the questions that Read will shed light on.

Come experience the Bassoon’s unique history, let it open you up to a new musical avenue and let your curiosity be sparked as Read brings his adventures and discoveries to you through performance and discussion. “If I could stimulate anything in any human in my most humble attempt, it would be to create curiosity,” says Read. “Music and education create good citizens.”

More compelling talks in the 2009 ‘Arts Wednesdays’ free public speaker series at Robson Square will follow. Sponsored by the Faculty of Arts.

For more information or inquiries (media only):
Professor Ira Nadel
Academic Director, Communications, Faculty of Arts
604.822.4254
nadel@interchange.ubc.ca
Jacqueline Hoffmann
Communications Assistant, Faculty of Arts
604.822.4483 mobile: 604.765.7156
jackie.hoffmann@mail.arts.ubc.ca

How I Finish a Reed

Bernard Garfield

Throughout the years of my professional career my reeds have evolved into a personal, rather unique form. In developing this special style of reed I have been guided, as any bassoonist must be, by my own playing experiences. The type of music, size, and quality of the group, acoustics of the concert hall, the innate quality of a particular bassoon, and one's concept of tone all influence the design of the reed.
As far as type of music and performance medium are concerned, naturally if one is performing with a concert band, which normally has stronger (louder) dynamics than, for example, a Mozart chamber orchestra, the reed must have a stronger tonal projection in order to penetrate through the heavy lower brass sounds that dominate a band. In a chamber orchestra on the other hand, the absence of trombones and tubas calls for a less powerful, less strident, though always resonant, bassoon sound.
The acoustics of the performance hall are another factor of much importance in choosing a reed style. A fine, sensitive hall, such as New York's Carnegie Hall or Philadelphia's Academy of Music, will encourage the production of pure, lovely, mellow tones, and a sound that is too bright or edgy will protrude unpleasantly. However, there are other places where a mellow bassoon tone is completely swallowed up by the excessive resonance of the hall. There are also halls so large that a bassoon sound must be somewhat edgy in order to project. In Madison Square Garden or certain convention-type halls bassoonists might long for reeds with blades of metal in order to be heard.
One has to decide what type of reed will enhance the sound of his/her bassoon. There are instruments that have an inborn dark, stuffy, choked quality and others that are bright, resonant, edgy. There are flat bassoons and sharp ones, good bocals and inferior ones. Between these extremes lie thousands of various instruments, each one with its own strengths and weaknesses. I play on a 7,000 series Heckel with that happy combination of great resonance (without a shrill edge) and dark mellowness.
A bassoonist's own personal concept of what the bassoon should sound like is perhaps the most important influence on his choice of reeds. This concept evolves through years of playing and listening and is affected by one's teachers, the type of tone produced by one's colleagues, and, quite significantly, the bassoon concept of the conductors with whom one works. There are conductors who want the bassoon to be a companion to the trombones, and there are conductors, such as Eugene Ormandy, who want the bassoon to blend with the cellos.
Let me dwell for a moment on the "Philadelphia sound." In a sensitive hall like the Academy of Music, where every tone is heard and the attacks must be precise, it is essential that the reed be responsive in the quietest dynamics. Maestro Ormandy constantly demands pianissimo attacks in his performances. In the opening of La Mer or La Valse or, for that matter, during any work where there are soft dynamics, he insists that the pianissimos be attacked without accents and together. This is a definite factor to contend with in finishing reeds.
John de Lancie, the first oboist with the Philadelphia Orchestra during the last twenty years I have been performing with this group, is a fine musician who does not believe in a blatant oboe sound. His refinement of attack and tone coincides with my own idea of the bassoon tone.
My musical background was probably ideal for the Philadelphia Orchestra since it was mostly chamber music, and the Philadelphia Orchestra is a huge chamber music group. We do a great deal of listening to each other, constantly working toward fine tuning and clean attacks. My reed design, therefore, is essentially the same as it was during 1946-57, when I played countless New York Woodwind Quintet concerts and chamber orchestra concerts. I have always preferred playing the bassoon with a quintet in a cello-like manner, and I feel the woodwind quintet should seek lots of piano dynamics. During those eleven years of quintet concerts we tried to convey to the listener the smoothness of a string quartet and not sound, as do so many quintets, like a miniature band. This means smooth, mellow, resonant (but not strident) reeds.
Before discussing the actual scrape I use, I should perhaps mention the obvious first problem facing the bassoonist with knife in hand: cane. Due to cane differences a bassoon reed usually favors either the soft dynamics or the loud dynamics. Seldom is there a piece of cane that will produce a beautiful pianissimo, as in the opening of the Tchaikovsky Sixth, and have the fortes to handle a band version of Moussorgsky's Pictures. Some reeds are better solo reeds than others, and the best of these I set aside for concertos. If the demands of a concert are particularly heavy sometimes a change of reed during the concert is required. For example, I might want a very soft, dolce quality in a lyrical slow movement and a more aggressive and somewhat heavier reed for the remainder of the concert. While most of my reeds are generally the same style and dimensions, I do vary the scrape to some extent depending on the properties of the cane and the tonal qualities desired.
After shaping and profiling the cane, making the blank, and wrapping with thread, I soak the wrapping in melted beeswax (a neat solution to the problems of loose winding and minor leaks in the tube) and clip the blade to a length of 1-1/8", which includes a bit of bark collar, as the top wire usually settles a bit behind the end of the bark. I then scrape the areas shaded in Diagram A, always tapering evenly toward the edges of the reed. Then I continue with the areas shaded in Diagram B. the channels. Next, the tip area is blended and the usual fingernail silhouette formed. With pliers I adjust the tip opening to about 1 mm. at the center. At this point the reed should vibrate giving a sharp pitch, and it is necessary to lower the pitch while aiming at that elusive resonant, dark, mellow tone.
With more scraping in the channels the pitch will drop somewhat and the quality-should improve. For still lower vibrations and more darkness I next carefully scrape the back area near the wire (Diagram C), and I usually cut the bark off even with the top wire. I leave the rails or sides fairly thick from just behind the tip area to the wire in my design, for they contribute, along with the spine or center thickness, to the strength of the reed.
The finished blade of most of my reeds is between 31/32" and 33/32", depending on the strength of the piece of cane I have selected and the season of the year. (In summer the bore of the bassoon swells, making the instrument sharper, thus requiring a slightly flatter reed, while in winter the dry, heated air causes the bore to shrink, making for a flatter instrument and requiring a sharper reed.) There are other considerations which influence my final blade length, such as the pitch of my colleagues at a given time, the tuning of a soloist (piano and violin are so often high), and the range of a particular solo (a Tchaikovsky Sixth opening needs a flatter reed than a tenor range solo such as Tchaikovsky's Fourth ).
Obviously, then, any set of measurements will apply to a particular reed and as such are not absolutes to be applied to all pieces of cane for all circumstances. Diagram D is an attempt to show the contours of the lay as seen when the reed is held in front of a strong light, and Diagram E is a general guide showing the measurements in millimeters of a "typical" reed in my reed case.
Naturally each player's requirements and goals differ, and there are too many variables for one style of reed to be the ideal reed for everyone. My own concept of tone, Heckel bassoon, background in chamber music, regular performance in a fine concert hall with outstanding colleagues and a conductor who favors a smooth, blending type of bassoon sound have led me to the style of reed described above.