Did you dream of being a professional from the start?
I didn't know much about anything at that age except that I enjoyed music in a general sense. I taught myself piano by listening to my sister's lessons and imitating her. I'm sure she was annoyed by that, as I could play some of the stuff it had taken her many weeks to learn! I also started some percussion lessons, which really only entailed me beating out rhythms on a practice pad. But other than that I really wasn't aware that one could be a professional musician. I surely knew nothing of the Curtis Institute and I had only heard of the Philadelphia Orchestra. Although my mom had been a bass player as well as a great accordion player when she was young, my family wasn't really into classical music at the time.
Touch on your education…
Even as I approached college, I was not really aware of the options for professional musicians, and I ended up applying to schools for pre-med or science programs. The bass was still an important part of my life, but more as a hobby. I didn't really practice much, but I was still playing a lot and went to All-State in 10th through 12th grades. I looked at schools that were connected to conservatories so that I still might take lessons, and I ended up at The Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore. (My first choice was Princeton, but I didn't get in.)
Did you choose between physics and music, or just try to make room for both?
At first, I was a biophysics major with a plan to get an MD and a PhD, but I started leaning toward physics when it became more theoretical and abstract. Physics becomes very philosophical at some point as you start questioning the reality of experience, and my natural curiosity just took over, I guess. It struck a nice balance with music, which on the other hand gave me an outlet for personal expression. I also just happened to be in the right place at the right time - Peabody was short of bass players, and it worked to everyone's advantage to let me play in the orchestras at Peabody and also in the orchestra and solo classes. I have to thank my teacher, Paul Johnson, for his help and also Hal Robinson, who was always supportive and at some point told me point-blank that if I wanted to become a bassist, I had the talent to "make it". There wasn't really a moment when I felt confident enough to switch, but as grad school applications for physics programs came up and I was faced with months of preparation for entrance exams, I thought, "this is my only opportunity to do music". So I grabbed the chance and applied for music school instead! I ended up getting into Rice University, but in September, during the first week of school, there was a Houston Symphony audition. And before I knew it, I had won the job! Suddenly, I had become a professional bassist, and I had to drop out of school. I did end up taking two years of lessons with Paul Ellison, though.
It's almost as if you fell into the Houston job by accident! I'm sure you are the envy of many bassists who've been on the audition circuit for a while. You obviously achieved a lot through intensive work at Hopkins and were ready for the audition, but I bet you surprised yourself by winning it. As you have an exceptional success rate at auditions, would you share a few tips?
For me, an obvious key is effective preparation, not just in the practice room, but also in developing an idea for the final product. I must have a clear vision of what I want to sound like. It doesn't just magically form, either, but comes through research and having an open mind. For example, I sometimes draw on memories of hearing how other musicians play (whether from a live performance or recording). I might tell myself, "I want to have that sound" or "that was really beautifully phrased".
When I practice for an audition, my goal is to produce exactly what I want to hear. I don't want to compromise on sound, clarity, phrasing, energy, comfort, or anything else. One of the worst things one can do is be impatient and practice something incorrectly, because the errors will then become habit. It takes twice as long to have to undo it and learn it over again.
For example, to prepare the last movement of Mozart 35, I'll start by playing it under tempo, meticulously working out the coordination and smoothness. If I try to play it at performance tempo right away it's nearly impossible to have the clarity I think is necessary. I'm then forced to return to a slower speed. I provide myself with a solid foundation for later, when I start playing it quicker and the stroke becomes more defined. Even after several successful auditions I wouldn't want to just jump in and start practicing that at performance tempo!
At the audition, I just try to reproduce what I have been working on. It is more structured and rigid than a solo recital, but still definitely a performance. It certainly requires the same amount of heart to make it convincing…
I get a lot of emails from bassists asking about how they should break up their practice time, especially regarding scales. Can you share your thoughts on the subject?
I think there are many people who make the mistake of equating scales with technique work. Scales are one part of the equation, absolutely, but so are arpeggios, open strings, string crossings, stroke work, speed work, crab technique, pivoting - the list could continue forever! One's goal must be to know the instrument in all of its facets, and to be able to efficiently use the tools earned through careful study of the bass.
Therefore, I do a lot of technique work, and I really don't expect that to change, as I am constantly maintaining what I know as well as learning new things. Of course, what the technique work entails depends on what it is I am practicing. In the early stages, I try to include general concepts and techniques I will need for, say, a recital or audition, and then as a performance date approaches, I do more specific work related to instances in the music.
Most simply, I might describe my practice sessions as being in three stages. First comes a warm-up session, which might include stretching or breathing exercises. Next, I start my technique work, which is usually the same length as the next stage, which is reserved for musical issues. Here I apply the concepts from the technical exercises to the piece as a whole, deciding on phrasing and development, while also giving myself a chance to 'perform' the piece.
You have studied a lot with Francois Rabbath, even going to Paris for some intensive work. Do you consider yourself a Rabbath devotee? How has he influenced you?
Since I first met him ten years ago, I have learned a great deal musically and personally from François. Anyone who works closely with him will realize that his playing is just the "tip of the iceberg" of what he has to offer. His logic and his understanding of the instrument are unmatched by nearly every musician I have ever met. Whether you are a soloist or an orchestra player, you can easily take his approach of discovering how to learn and apply it. He is also very generous and personally committed toward the students he works with. However, two things that have been most inspiring are, first, his deeply genuine sense of musicianship, and secondly, his commitment to never stop learning.
Are you motivated equally as a soloist as well as orchestra player?
I love playing solos, but I have played professionally in orchestras since I was 21, and so I have always had to devote a lot of time to preparing my weekly material. Plus, I didn't have a conventional background when I was younger, so my solo playing developed later. Obviously, the repertoire for solo bass as a whole is not near the level of piano or violin. Transcriptions of other repertoire are sometimes a good choice, but there are moments when I think it would be more satisfying, for example, to try to learn cello than to fight with a transcription. But in the end, I just work at being a musician whose voice happens to be the bass, no matter what is on the stand.
What kind of bass do you play?
In the orchestra I play an English bass from the middle of the 19th century which is attributed to James Brown. (I bought it in 1996 at Kolstein's in New York.) It's full-size, but manageable due to the sloped shoulders and reasonable string length. It is also one of the rare large basses that I feel mixes power with clarity and ease of response. In listening to and playing many basses over the years, I feel the bass in general is dark enough already and even on the best days we still have to fight to be play clearly. I also have a Gustave Bernadel from 1892-93 with a beautiful lion-head scroll. I use it for my solo playing, even if it is not a very small bass. It is a bit punchier than the Brown and the sound is more compact. Interestingly, the bass at one time belonged to the former Principal of the orchestra in Montreal, and to Oscar Zimmermann.
So, how is the National Symphony different from the Houston Symphony?
Houston was my first professional job, and I was mostly focused on learning the ropes. I felt the orchestra played relatively united under the conductor, while in the NSO as a whole, we are given a little freer reign and independence. Every orchestra is different, and what is appropriate in Washington might not fit somewhere else, so I can't really say which is better. It is always a challenge and takes time to learn an orchestra's style and match one's playing to it. Of course, we didn't have ambassadors or Condoleeza Rice in the audience in Houston like we do in Washington!
Like you, I have been both a section player and a Principal. How do you think they're different?
Ninety nine percent of the time the Principal and the section player play the same notes, but there are more differences than just the occasional solo. Of course, final responsibility rests on the Principal's shoulders to do things such as count correctly, decide on bowings, and help the bass section sound unified. My feeling is that the principal shouldn't (and can't) impose his or her will over that of everyone else, but merely must effectively channel everyone's energy for the common good. I am sure I have a lot to learn, in any case!
On the subject of Montreal, how was your first experience there?
After years of camping trips in the woods of Québec and further north, it had become my dream to move to Canada, with visions of endless nature and snowy winter nights. And I was actually quite familiar with Montreal, with several good friends close by, and so I hoped that the transition would be smooth. Yet I really spent most of that first year trying to find my way, both as a foreigner in a new city and culture, and also as a Principal in a new orchestra. Also, it was probably not the best time to join the Montreal Symphony, as Charles Dutoit had just quit and the possibility of a major strike loomed ahead. It was a period of reorganization and after years of stability in Washington, I wasn't really prepared for it. My goal has always been to be the best musician I can, and that has required me to feel comfortable with and committed to the situation I find myself in. For them and for me, I just didn't feel the time was right, and while heartbroken, I remained confident I was making the right choice by returning to D.C.
O.K. The big question…why did you decide to return to Montreal?
Well, the Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal (OSM) held several auditions for the post since I left, but didn't fill it. Like I said, it has been my dream to move to Canada, and that never changed. The OSM and the city of Montreal in general are in a much stronger position than five years ago. Kent Nagano just started his tenure as Music Director, and the orchestra is on a definite upward trajectory. Also, I am a little older and feel like the time is right to make a professional change like this, which will in time bring me new opportunities and challenges.
