There a many times that a musician may want to randomise some aspect of their playing. Example 1: A marimbist is practising double verticals with interval changes. Example 2: A pianist is working on their technical work for an exam.
In both of these examples, the performer may want to work through every single combination possible. Say for example that the marimbist is working on intervals up to and including an octave. They could move from a second to a third, then a second to a fourth, and then all the way to a second to an octave. Then they would do the same thing, but starting on a third, rather than a second, and so on. Likewise, the pianist could work through their each of the scales in similar motion at piano, then at forte, and then with crescendi and decrescendi, then do the same thing with contrary motion. Maybe the exam requires legato and staccato. Then do the same thing with each articulation.
However you look at it, these combinations can become unwieldy, for both the marimbist and pianist. Even if you have the time to practise all of the combinations, you may not have made the most of your time. Notice that the marimbist's intervals started relatively small and worked up in size? Well say that a piece jumps straight into octave to third jumps. They may have needed a 'warm up' to get there, which the piece does not provide. Similarly, the pianist may only play a scale competently in contrary motion once they've warmed up their brain by playing it in similar motion.
The best way to approach these combinations of events is through the use of random combinations. This is where help is required, because, in my experience, humans are absolutely useless random number generators. Given a set number of combinations, it's almost inevitable that certain ones will be favoured at the expense of others.
One way to randomise the experience is through the use of flash cards. Another way is to get a computer to do the work for you. Computers also happen to be less than perfect at generating random numbers (see here for more details) but they are better than us!
A site such as random.org is great for maximising use of your practice time, especially if your practice combinations happen to be easily mapped to numbers.
So there you go, random number generators are not only good for 20th century avant-garde composers. But you'd know that already, because you've tackled my aleatoric sight reading, haven't you?
The divide between the whole / half / quarter and semibreve / minim / crotchet naming schemes is fairly entrenched. Learning in England and Australia, I heard little but the latter, while the former was all that I encountered in America. Isn't it time to settle on a standard?
Surprisingly, considering their dogged adherence to miles, gallons, and freedom fries, the American system is much more logical. Two half notes make a whole note, two quarters make a half, and so on. Our whole system of notation is mathematical. Add values by tying them. Multiply by 1.5 or 1.75 by adding one or two dots. Even time signatures can be seen as fractions. Introducing rote learning for the base values is just silly. Use the American system, and you may even see your students' maths improve. Or is that math?
Not convinced? Then look at the actual names given to the notes. Crotchet comes from the French word for "hook", which it USED to have. So that word is counterintuitive. Minims come from the Latin "minima", which means smallest. Wrong. What's the longest note in common use? Why the semibreve, a name that literally means half-short. Then consider the semihemidemisemiquaver, a note that gets laughs from my students, but otherwise is a waste of a name.
I was heartened, then, to see that my daughter is being taught the American system at her Australian school. The sooner that crotchets and minims are relegated to the history books, the better. But we'll keep our SI units, thanks.
Note: It's not just America that uses the whole note naming system, rather, it originally came from Germany.
The internet is full of articles documenting incompetence. Unfortunately, these are generally "punching down" on others. Self-reflective articles are rarer, and these are generally written in retrospect, showing the path from incompetence to (at least relative) competence. Self-documentation and publication of incompetence, with no knowledge of whether this incompetence is permanent, is an unusual activity.
This website presents some of the results of decades of hard work, resulting in a high level of competence. At the very least, it shows that I place a monetary value on some of my work. Why then, would I risk damaging my brand (to use a term that is very on-point) by demonstrating that I am utterly incompetent in the field of instrument construction?
Firstly, I’d argue that my brand is not necessarily damaged by showing that there are areas in which I’m not particularly proficient. A quick look through websites and social media shows that people in general present a highly curated version of themselves that minimises failure and incompetence. It’s a fake impression, and I don’t think that it fools anyone. We’re all useless at certain activities, so why hide the fact? If you enjoy an activity, does it really matter how good you are at it?
Secondly, the demonstration of incompetence can be of great pedagogical value. One of the greatest lessons learned by our daughters was when my wife decided to learn the trumpet. She happens to have a tertiary degree in music, but had never played a brass instrument. Our daughters listened to the horrible sounds that emanated from the trumpet with a degree of skepticism. And who could blame them? They had never seen either of their parents show such a level of incompetence. In fact, they hadn’t seen us be incompetent at anything. As adults, we know that our proficiency in various areas has come through time and hard work, but for children, they just see the finished product, that is, a human who can do most things well. Needless to say, my wife worked hard, and she progressed at a rapid rate. That, however, was of secondary importance. The lessons learned by our children were of immeasurable value.
Thirdly, I believe that the documenting the learning process is more valuable when it is published at the time of documentation. It is far too easy to look back when a skill has been learned, and to curate the story in a particular way. I don’t know how this story will turn out, and in certain respects it doesn’t matter (although I would love to gain some skills and keep all of my limbs intact). Whichever way this narrative goes, there will be insights valuable to those seeking to learn from my mistakes and profit from my successes.
There will be many mistakes. Hopefully I avoid injury and end up with some interesting sounding instruments. Some of them may even sound good. But I don’t know, and that’s all a part of the journey. I hope that you enjoy following it.
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