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Alan McGeoch - Bachelor of Music with Honours - Musician and Luthier : Insights

Technical note: all material posted here and throughout my website is Copyright © 2019 et seq. Alan McGeoch. Please treat any advice given or opinions expressed here and elsewhere in the website with a commonsense caution as I cannot be held responsible for your actions. Please contact me first if you wish to use any material or quote my posts. In like manner, let me know if I have not given due credit to others.Thank you.

Insights from a player, performance coach and luthier on violins, violas and cellos and how to perform with increasing understanding, confidence and enjoyment so your music can really sing.

Hi! My name is Alan McGeoch and I’m a luthier, making violins, violas and cellos by hand. My blog is mostly for musicians - players and singers alike: thoughts and ideas to help you in your musical life, tackling issues such as practising and rehearsing, performance and nerves, your instrument (string players only) and much more, feeding off my extensive experience as a music educator, examiner, coach and, in recent years, as a ‘returning’ cellist. Oh, and many hours - over 16,000 hours, but I don’t count them nowadays - in my atelier. Please be patient just now but come back from time to time to read my posts.

by Alan McGeoch 26 November 2019
Most of us are fortunate enough to come equipped with a singing voice for expressing ourselves, the depth of our feelings, for story-telling, for inspiring others, and for the joy of it too. It is a compelling form of communication. Lucky is the instrumentalist who can make their violin, viola or cello sing like a voice – and happy the listener who is privileged to experience the delights of this. Maybe song - in so many genres - is the music most admired, most heard and most desirable to emulate. Able to run the gamut of expression with a useable range of over two octaves, the singer is capable of creating many nuances of colour and numerous forms of articulation, all delivered at appropriate dynamic levels. To achieve this on an instrument requires a deconstruction of the music on the page and a reconstruction in terms of that instrument with added help from, for example, the bow. And of course the total commitment of the body. We do this already, using our technique and experience. But the singing voice stands apart from other instruments: it can handle words too, making for a powerfully enhanced mix of sound and communication of meaning. If ‘meaning’ is delivered with commitment together with the beauty of the voice, then the listener must resist strongly if not to be drawn in, engaged, and ultimately thrilled beyond satisfaction. The singer also has the opportunity of engaging the listener visually. More of this later. At an early age I was taught that music which told a story or by its title suggested a scene or particular feelings, for example, was ‘programmatic’ and that music which needed no title was ‘absolute’ music. Yet, listening to string players – at all levels I must add, given my background in examining – there are those who are able to pull me along by the ears through their performance of music which has no title to betray its intended meaning, never letting me cease to listen and remain engaged and entranced to the final cadence. How can I as a player do this too? Here is a little experiment you may care to try: choose a piece of absolute music you know well and play it to a trusted musical friend – someone who knows that you would like to hear the truth (as they see it) and not what your friend thinks you would like to hear. Do your best and observe all the technical details, of course. Then play the same piece thinking about a storyline, one you have prepared earlier. It doesn’t matter how silly the story is, but you will probably find soon that there are clues in the nature of the music which begin to tell you what happens next in your story; if the music is episodic in nature, your story could even be disjointed too, flitting from idea to idea. Now ask your friend for an opinion. I don’t think there is any right answer, but you might find that the performance came across as more interesting, more fun, warmer, more human, made more sense, I don’t know. Why? My theory is that performing with the ‘intent’ that a script gives you can convey that sense of intent to the listener, as if by magic. The listener won’t be likely to pick up your actual storyline, so you’re safe there, but if there is a thread of meaning in what you do, I think that she/he will be held till the music ends. Picking up on the visual aspect of a performance now, pulling faces as one plays is generally considered to be a distraction too far, and swaying around might be inappropriate too. We’ve all seen that, but never done it, of course. However, there is a whole palette of possibilities from still and calm to movement which heightens (the meaning of) the piece you are playing. Maybe listening to a recording of the same piece in private and letting your facial expression and body change and move naturally is a good starting point from which you can develop your own performance. Beware imitating others though, because you need to have ownership of what you play and how you perform it. Oh, and one more thing, smile too! It can make a huge difference to your own feelings and confidence and it makes your audience happy too. The more naturally you respond to your music, the more believable, true and likeable you become to your audience and your performance truly sings to them.
by Alan McGeoch 14 October 2019
Less is more Bearing in mind the differences in atelier or workshop size, ranging from individual makers to teams, it can take 120 or more hours to make a violin or viola and upwards of 250 hours to make a cello by hand - these are merely guidelines to which must be added time for varnishing, setting up, testing and adjustment - it doesn’t need advanced maths to show you that one pair of hands can still only make relatively few instruments each year. Even with some economies of scale, for instance preparing the wood for a number of violins at a time – dimensioning to the sizes and rough shapes required – there is no avoiding the sheer number of hours to be spent on the individual instrument, working with the unique characteristics of the selected cuts of wood. As I regard each instrument as an artistic entity in respect of its unique sound and appearance, you can immediately see that producing large numbers of very similar instruments could be perceived as a move away from hand craft towards manufacturing. For me hand making is about quality, individuality, personality, difference. To achieve this, I believe that less may be more. In playing and listening too, less can be more, but this needs to be explained. The repertoire we play, sing and enjoy listening to is but a tiny fraction of what has been written. We are all aware to some extent of the ‘main’ classical composers of the past, for example Bach, Beethoven, Brahms and others equally well-known by name whether from the past or the present. It is but a small step from this point to begin to equate ‘well-known’ with ‘celebrated’, ‘famous’ and even ‘great’. There are many other composers worthy of a hearing and it is encouraging to hear concert programmes and radio offerings reflecting this. Just as some pieces by these neglected composers may in one’s own mind be left in the mists of time, there are gems too. I would not presume to give a verdict – what we like is for us to decide, on an individual, personal basis – but I would remind the reader that even the ‘famous’ composer may fail to hit the spot with all of us all of the time. Less is more? Well, a balance in programming still allows sufficient repetition of ‘favourites’ while increasing the proportion of lesser-known works. We can be active in this with what we choose to play on our own instruments and in our openness as listeners too. So, less of the same leaves room for more that is different, bringing its own enrichment. For instruments by lesser-known makers and music by lesser-known composers then, take time to explore, discover and ask yourself does it ‘sing’ or show potential in this direction (as instruments need time to be played in and new music has to become more familiar), does it say something to you, does it have the tingle factor? Then less may indeed be more for you.
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