Hidden Scales

Scales are an important part of a musician's diet. We need to do them every day, and we never quite perfect them. When we are familiar with scales and their finger patterns, we read music easier, we perform musical passages more adroitly, and we can memorize structure easier.

I have long puzzled over why students struggle with certain passages in the Bach's book 1 Minuets, or even other pieces in the repertoire, such as Bach's Bourree or Martini's Gavotte in Book 3 or Vivaldi's Concerto in A Minor in book 4. Then one day it hit me that students struggled with learning and memorization in these pieces because they tripped over the hidden scales.

Let me take a classic example in Bach's Bourrée from book 3, the last song in the book. In measures 5 and 6, students take a while to figure out the notes here until I dissect them. Here is the passage:

Bach's Bourrée (Violin Book 3)

 Here is what I teach them. First, I show them how to play these two notes:

Bourrée 2-note snippet

This is not difficult for the students at this point, because we encountered and worked over this spot in the grace notes of Gossec's Gavotte at the end of book 1. We play this little passage of two-note combinations a few times until the student is "easy" with it.

Then I ask the students to play these two notes (during the rests) while I play these other notes in between:

Bourrée's Hidden Scale

When we do the two parts together, we get the original passage. My next step is to teach the student to play the hidden scale passage that I played, and we then switch parts.

After the student is able to play this last step, then the student seems to have no problems putting both snippets together and playing the passage as written. This same hidden scale passage appears later on the A and D strings as well.

There are many instances of hidden scales throughout the Suzuki repertoire, and if the teacher and student were to spend a few moments studying it, these passages would be easier to remember and memorize. Here are a few more examples.

Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor, Movement I (Violin Book 4)

In Vivaldi's Concerto in A Minor, first movement, there is a great example of a hidden scale on the second page:

Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor (Violin Book 4)

When we dissect this passage to find the hidden scale, we find this:

Vivaldi Concerto's Hidden Scale

There are many more hidden scale examples in this concerto, and finding all of them may help a student lock in the notes in the student's memory.

Martini Gavotte (Violin Book 3)

In Martini's Gavotte in the beginning of violin book 3, we find this passage right before the last recapitulation of the theme:

Martini Gavotte (Violin Book 3)

When we dissect this passage to find the hidden scales, we find all of these scales:

1st scale

2nd scale

3rd scale

4th scale

Here is the entire hidden scale passage:

Martini's Hidden Scales

There are many such scale passages throughout the repertoire, and these hidden scales make a great quest for students to find throughout the music. This assignment could also be the subject of specific review requests ("find the hidden scales in this review song").

Happy Practicing!

----- Paula -----

© 2016 by Paula E. Bird

Making Music with a Twinkle Circle

As a teacher, I struggle with how to teach my students about making music. What does it mean to be musical? How do I teach them about making phrases and connecting the performer's heart and soul with the listener? It seems that however I approach the subject, I lack a connection of insight and understanding with my students. They do not seem to "get it." I explain. I demonstrate. I play examples of fine performances from famous artists. Still, I do not get the response that I desire from everyone. Occasionally I will see a student play "from the heart," but as a whole, I do not get the results that I seek. And then one day, I found the answer!

I showed my students how musicality feels. I let my students feel the experience of making music and feeling others make music. We created the Twinkle Circle.

Let me digress for a moment to attribute this idea to the various sources and roots of my thinking. I have been thinking a long time now about the use of energy. I raise nine miniature dachshunds in my home, and I have a horse, several donkeys, 13 alpacas, and ten chickens. These different creatures respond to different energy approaches, as do different human personalities. I draw my ideas about musical energy from Cesar Milan (The Dog Whisperer), Pat Parelli (The Horse Whisperer), and Edward Kreitman's book, Teaching with an Open Heart. Of course, there are so many possible sources of an idea, but these are the big three that influenced much of my thought in this area.

Music is vibration in the air. Vibration in the air is an expression of energy. We can feel this as well as hear it. We can see the vibrations when we look at our violin strings while we play. When we go to a rock concert, we can feel the rhythmic pulsations. As a seasoned professional musician, I know that we connect our performance of musical energy with our listener. A good performer knows how to do this. How many times have we listened to a "flat" performance from a concert artist? We know that the performance was good; after all, the performer dazzled us with pyrotechnical technique. However, something did not quite "sing" or resonate with our inner being.

I have thought a long time about these questions. As I worked with my animals, I noticed how easily they responded to my use of energy. In this case, when I refer to "energy," I am referring to a definiteness of purposeful motion of some kind. I can stand my ground and block a dog's food bowl just by "claiming" the bowl as my own in my head. I can create a musical phrase by connecting the musical line with my listener. I can feel the zing of my listeners' heart strings when they connect with my musical vibration, and I can weave a musical, magical moment between us.

As I explored these ideas with my students in group classes and lessons, I finally tried out a simple exercise to help my students to begin to feel the energy of musical purpose in the air. We often form a circle in group class just because it eliminates a sense of hierarchy (youngest to oldest) and brings everyone into the same plane in a way. And here is how I used my Twinkle Circle to help my students feel the music:

• I played a "flat" Twinkle theme that was devoid of expression. Then I played a more musical rendition, where I increased the intensity/volume slightly to mirror the direction that the notes went (ascending notes increased in intensity and descending notes decreased). My students heard the difference! They preferred the more beautiful version.
• We played the theme together. As we increased our intensity and volume, we slowly walked toward the center of the circle. We could feel the increasing energy of the other members of the circle as we crept toward each other, and we felt the ebb of energy as we backed away from each other as a phrase ended.
• We played Lightly Row and Aunt Rhody using the same technique. If we thought we should include an "echo" place, then we quickly stepped back to our starting position to indicate the diminished volume.
• When we got to Long, Long Ago, a curious thing happened. We played the first two measures with a growing intensity, then we began to ebb our energy in measure three as the musical line descended in pitch. However, in measure four, there is another "beginning" to the phrase. My students recognized that little "bump in the road" by stepping forward again toward the center of the circle and then creeping backward. I was amazed that they recognized this musical device. In fact, at this point, I was amazed again and again as my students eagerly looked for ways to step into or away from the circle to represent the musical lines.
• Then we played Twinkle theme again but stood in our initial position. Instead of walking away from and toward each other, we played in a way that made each other feel the same energetic ebb and flow that we had created earlier through collapsing and expanding our circle.
• At this point, since my group classes currently include students of all levels from book 1 through the more advanced books, I took the exercise through several other book levels. We played Two Grenadiers and Gavotte in G Minor. We considered how we would do the exercise in the Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor.
• I used this same exercise in my university studio seminar class. We began with Twinkle theme, and then I performed the same exercise with each student individually on one of the student's repertoire pieces: Mozart's Concerto No. 5 (2nd movement), Bach's D Minor Allemande, Handel's Sonata No. 4 in D Major (1st movement), and so on.

This Twinkle Circle exercise produced amazing results for me. My university students play with more musicality now than I have previously heard from them. My private students sound lovely in lessons, and a group ensemble piece is exquisite to hear.

My favorite reaction from the experience was to watch the mothers' faces in the waiting area during that first group class experiment. The mothers' mouths hung wide open as they heard the most beautiful Twinkle Theme that we have ever played.

Why Twinkle?

Recently a reader (thanks, Ann!) commented with this question:

"Why does the Suzuki method teach Twinkle with the various rhythms? Instead of just the Twinkle theme?

This is a great question, and I am sure we have all thought about this a time or two. Why did Dr. Suzuki write all those Twinkle Variations, and why did he put the variations before the theme? Here are some possible answers:

• To awaken the student's rhythmic awareness
• To awaken the student's visual, aural, and kinesthetic senses
• To allow the student to play quickly and use faster movement of the muscles (student's love to play fast; this is so far distant from my first violin days of long, slow, tedious bows on the A string)
• To stimulate the student's large muscle groups before later refining the use of small muscle groups (move from large to small muscle groups, beginning with the larger muscles required for the Twinkle variations)
• To teach the student some of the most popular rhythmic and bowing combinations in the repertoire

All of the above reasons are important. It is my understanding that the first variation rhythm, "Mississippi Hot dog" (also  known as "Pepperoni Pizza" or "taka taka stop stop"),  stems from the opening of Bach's famous two violin concerto in d minor:

Bach's "double" violin concerto

The Vivaldi A minor violin concerto movements are examples of how many of these rhythmic units are found in the classical repertoire. Pretty much all of the rhythmic variations are found in this concerto.

Students enjoy coming up with new variations. We might make up a new pattern based on the rhythm of our names. For example, "Paula Bird" and "strawberry ice cream" would translate to:

"Paula Bird" and "Strawberry Ice Cream" rhythms

I make up my own Twinkle variations as I need them to practice difficult bowing passages in the orchestral repertoire. For example, the last movement of Beethoven's 8th symphony has a fast paced set of rhythms that can be awkward to bow quickly. So I turn the bowing pattern into a Twinkle variation. My colleagues are amused to hear me practice this way, but I do not have any difficulty playing the last movement of the symphony.

Just the other day I practiced several of the Twinkle variations with spiccato bowing (bouncing off the string and airborne). I am currently in Central Oregon playing in the Sunriver Music Festival, and the air is quite dry here. My bow bounces much differently here than it does in my humid home state of Texas. So I needed some extra practice to learn how my bow felt in this new climate. Again, I caught some amused looks from festival colleagues as they realized what melody I used to make bowing variations.

What are some reasons you believe that Dr. Suzuki taught the Twinkle variations? What are some different ways that you use them with your students or in your own practice?

Quick Teaching Tip: Vivaldi’s Phone Number

I helped a student today on Vivaldi’s Concerto in A minor, op. 3, no. 6, in the revised edition of Suzuki Violin Volume 4. We discussed some practice ideas for the section in measures 25-28, which I refer to as “Vivaldi’s phone number.” I believe I first heard this particular nickname for these measures from Terry Durbin at an institute, perhaps Elizabethtown over a decade ago.

The nickname refers to the first note of each group of 16^th notes. If you recite the fingering for these notes, it sounds like a phone number. Since Vivaldi lives in Venice, Italy, the phone number is quite lengthy to accommodate the international aspect of the call:

4 – 4 – 3 – 1 – 4 – 4 – 2 – 1 – 3 – 4 – 1 (or 4) – 0 – 2 – 3

Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor, measures 25-28

Students stumble through this passage in their initial playing attempts. There is a reason, and I find this passage is a golden teaching opportunity about how to approach passages in a way that will spur students to achieve success quicker. I also use a similar technique in a passage in Seitz Concerto No. 2, 3^rd movement, the first song in book 4:

Seitz Concerto No. 2, movement 3 passage

One of the reasons I think students have trouble with both passages is that they are reading every single note, one at a time. For example, in the Seitz concerto passage, the students have great difficulty playing this passage of double notes. When I guide the student to notice that everything is presented as pairs of notes, so therefore, read just the first note of each pair, the student reads the music quicker and with less difficulty.

Similarly with the Vivaldi phone number passage, I find that students are bogged down looking at the trees and not taking in the scope of the forest. Sometimes I suggest that my student take a step backwards and look at the music from a distance that is almost far enough away that the student cannot read the individual notes. Standing farther away encourages the student to notice the scope and breadth of the musical passage, such as the high and low points and the phrasing or grouping of notes.

In the Vivaldi passage, I ask the student to play the first note in each group of 16^th notes, in other words, Vivaldi’s phone number. This poises the student to visually group the notes, which is where I want the student to be. When the student plays Vivaldi’s phone number, the student also experiences the bowing direction that will occur in the passage once the student puts all the notes together:

Vivaldi's Phone Number

After playing the phone number, I guide the student to notice that each grouping has the same three notes and bowings after the initial note. How easy can that be to learn, I ask them. At this point, the student sails through the passage with much less difficulty.

What is my point in this teaching tip? My point is that as teachers we need to figure it out. When we notice that our students have difficulty in the same places, we need to figure out what part of the passage causes the students to have learning or playing problems. Then once we figure out the problem, we need to come up with a solution.

I do not know what Terry Durbin’s original purpose was in coming up with the “Vivaldi phone number” nickname. Mr. Durbin is a fun teacher, so my thinking is that he came up with a fun way to turn the student on to learning the passage. My purpose in using Mr. Durbin’s trick was initially to entertain my student. After years of teaching students this passage, my teaching technique has evolved into an understanding of what the problem is in learning this passage and how to teach the passage so that students learn the passage easier.

Just as I ask my students to step backwards on occasion and get a bigger picture of the task before them, so I as a teacher also must step back and look at the learning situation and figure out what is going on in my students’ learning sphere.

Every time I successfully identify and solve one of these learning dilemmas in the Suzuki repertoire, I renew my admiration for Dr. Suzuki’s brilliant insight into how we learn. I was surprised when I taught my first adult student using the Suzuki repertoire, that my adult students had the same learning and playing difficulties as my young charges. No matter what the age or ability level, students learn in similar ways. Our job as good teachers is to figure out where students have learning issues and how to solve those issues.

I love teaching! I enjoy these repertoire challenges. I seek to discover new problems in the repertoire and new solution methods. The best part of teaching, in my opinion, is when I "figure it out."