PBDB Book Review Dept: Sound in Motion

Sound in Motion: A Performer’s Guide to Greater Musical Expression. By David McGill. Indiana University Press.

Raymond Monelle, Jason Heath’s Double Bass Blog, August 23, 2008.

Having introduced everybody to the influential and important American pedagogue and oboist Marcel Tabuteau in my last book review, I thought I should review a couple of the books that focus on his teaching and playing methods. Certainly one of the most informative and entertaining of these is “Sound in Motion,” by Chicago Symphony principal bassoonist David McGill. While not a student of Tabuteau himself, he is a Curtis grad who was exposed to Tabuteau’s methods through his own teacher, Tabuteau student John de Lancie, and through his general influence in the Curtis and Philadelphia communities. The book is a well-written and opinionated treatise on almost every aspect of the art of musicianship, taking as its basis the methods of Tabuteau, but moving well beyond into discussions of auditioning, intonation, and an extended section on the Baroque performance movement.

His discussion of the Tabuteau system takes up the first half of the book, and is definitely the most approachable of any I’ve read. He organizes the chapters of this section around core musical concepts — rhythm, harmony, motive, and musical function — showing how Tabuteau’s concepts can help organize and structure each facet of musical analysis. His frequent and clearly organized musical examples are especially effective in showing the many ways that Tabuteau’s system and clarify the musical structure of any line. He shows both idealized examples that work perfectly in the Tabuteau system and real-world excerpts that show that no perfect, all-encompassing “rules” can ever completely define how to approach musicality.

In the second half of the book, he moves gradually away from Tabuteau and into his own views on a vast array of musical topics. A section on specific issues of woodwind playing then moves into a long section headed, appropriately, “Controversy.” In this section he lays out his views on vibrato, tone, intonation, ornamentation, and engages in a long discussion on Baroque performance practice. Without going too extensively into his views on any one of these topics, I would characterize his overall musical worldview as conservative in character and evolutionary in outlook. He idolizes the style of the early- and mid-20th Century Romantic master performers such as Fritz Kreisler and Maria Callas, and has a dim view of most, if not all, of the Baroque performance movement. He makes many valid points about some of the more dogmatic and thoughtless exponents of Baroque style, but in my opinion goes way too far in his criticism, often getting more than a little strident and polemical as he goes after even the very idea that performing on original instruments can be musically equivalent to performance on modern instruments, much less superior:

The baroque performance practice movement of the late twentieth century resurrected many of the original instruments used centuries ago. It is interesting to hear what these extinct instruments sound like with modern players… It can also show us quite clearly why these instruments were improved.

Note the use of the words “extinct” and “improved.”

McGill’s is not an unusual view among many musicians, and few can deny that the rich tradition of performers like Callas and Kreisler are priceless resources for us all to draw from as performers. McGill seems reluctant to consider that the alternate styles that come from Baroque instruments — that indeed come from the very nature of these instruments — can be as enriching and profound in their way as more Romantic styles can be in theirs. He is clearly an intelligent person and a strong advocate for his position, but I come away from the second half of his book with the feeling that he views the evolution of ideas of phrasing and musical expression that differ with the late-Romantic styles of Tabuteau and Callas as distasteful, unnecessary and even dangerous to music. From the section on his recommended listening:

When I tell people about the recordings of the musical artists whom I most admire, I am often met with the question: “Yes, but who do you like who’s alive?” It is disconcerting to hear this question because I believe that, through their recordings, the great performers of the past are as alive today as they ever were…. Their greatness is not related to fad or fashion. It is timeless….

McGill sees an evolution of musical ideas through history (peaking with artists of the early and mid- twentieth century) that, in an almost Darwinian way, led to “better and better” musicality. However, this approach neglects the role of culture and society in musical style, and can turn changes or developments in style — which are real and important — into “improvements” that mean that what came before is by definition inferior.

I cannot recommend this book enough. It has been some time since I have seen any book on musical style and phrasing this good. While I encourage readers to seek out a variety of views on the topics he lists in his “Controversy” section, none of them should be a reason to turn down the opportunity to learn from Mr. McGill. Thought-provoking, well-organized, and well-written, his book is an invaluable resource for anyone who wants to seriously apply themselves to learning greater musicality. Indeed, McGill’s most important point throughout the book is that, by studying the structural elements of music, and by analyzing the core principles that guide great performers like Tabuteau, we can apply basic principles to our own phrasing that can dramatically improve our musicality. Interpretation is not primarily about “feeling” or “talent,” he writes, but about study, logic, and hard work:

Musical expression is not just the posession of the chosen few.  By virtue of our innate intelligence and human capacity to express and feel our emotions, we are all born with the potential to be musically expressive… The real talent that leads to musical expression is intelligence.  The development of expression is the development of the intellect.

This smart and inspiring book is one that any serious music student or performer should seek out and read.

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What's New!

Marc Mostovoy Replies to the Facebook Posts Attacking Marcel Tabuteau

An audio interview with Joan Browne (Champie), a private Tabuteau student in the early 1950s.

A photograph of the music stand that was in Tabuteau’s private studio in Philadelphia.

An autographed photo of Marcel Tabuteau inscribed to Joan Browne Champie.

An autographed photo of Marcel Tabuteau inscribed to Vladimir Sokoloff.

Marc Mostovoy Replies to the Facebook Posts
Attacking Marcel Tabuteau

When she learned of Joan Champie’s death, and read the obituaries, Katherine Needleman, principal oboe of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and one of two oboe professors at the Curtis Institute of Music, posted on her Facebook page and again via video a message of outrage. Needleman’s central paragraph, in which she addresses herself directly to Marcel Tabuteau, is as follows:

“I don’t care if it was 1952 or 1954. I don’t care what you did for oboe reeds, as if anyone cares that you sometimes scraped them longer with your knife than your predecessors—what an innovation! I don’t care what you did for phrasing, and I don’t care how many (mostly men) students you inspired with your abusive teaching, which lived on for generations because they were unable to self-assess and grow past it. I don’t care about your number system. If you did not admit Joan to Curtis because she was a woman, and if you “let” her sweep your floor as a reward, this is how I remember you. *** you, Marcel Tabuteau. You know what would’ve been a real innovation that would have provided us all some benefit? Being a Very Big Fancy Man who supported women in music.

Needleman’s outrage is the result of the mention, in Joan Champie’s obituary, that Tabuteau hesitated to accept women at the Curtis Institute because 1) the likelihood of their being able to pursue a successful career was limited; and 2) because, after a successful lesson, Tabuteau “allowed her to sweep the floor.” 

Point 1 is, very obviously, one of the sad facts of orchestral life in the United States in the 1940s and 1950s, and, alas, even beyond. Conductors at that time rarely hired women oboists. The increasing presence of women in symphony orchestras in the United States, and around the world, is one of the signs of the remarkable gains made by women since the mid-twentieth century, gains akin to those that have been made in this country by other groups long dismissed or long oppressed.

Point 2, apparently troubling–although possibly the result of Tabuteau’s well-known mischievous sense of humor, needs to be understood in context. Those of us who knew Tabuteau or who knew others who knew him well, acknowledge that he could be a difficult taskmaster and act cold in lessons—not only to his rare female students, but to all of those who came to his studio. And yet most of his students remained faithful and dedicated to him because of his demonstrative artistry and the richness of his teaching. As Joan Champie herself said, after explaining to me in an interview how trying it could be to withstand Tabuteau’s sometimes severe remarks, “each lesson was a gift.” Champie was a courageous young woman whose desire to learn from an artist obviously quieted the discomfort that she felt.

What is most distressing in Needleman’s tirade is the dismissal of Tabuteau’s reed-making, which was part of his effort to achieve a kind of sound that combined the best of the French and Viennese schools of oboe-playing (a kind of sonority that Katherine Needleman herself well produces) and the dismissal of Tabuteau’s concern with phrasing, which, as it gradually infiltrated the players who sat around him, became one of the elements that caused critics such as The New Yorker’s Winthrop Sargeant to call Eugene Ormandy’s band the “Rolls Royce” of American orchestras.

Needleman’s reference to Tabuteau’s “abusive teaching” goes too far. That teaching has lived on for generations not because Tabuteau’s students “were unable to self-assess and grow past it,” but because it incorporated logical and inspiring methods of making music come alive.

I take no pleasure in refuting Katherine Needleman’s profane tirade. Nor does anyone on our board think of the bad old days of male chauvinism as the good old days. The Marcel Tabuteau First-Hand website continues to remain dedicated to promoting the musical ideas of a man who in our view had a highly positive impact on the development of musical performance in the United States during his lifetime, and during the period since his death. I ask those reading this response and my initial reply below to forward it to others who might be aware of Needleman’s Facebook attacks, so that the facts may be known.

Marc Mostovoy
Website administrator

To Katherine Needleman: A Belated Reply to
Your August 15th, 2024, Facebook Post:
“𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐄.”

Katherine—your post on Joan Champie was just recently brought to my attention: https://www.facebook.com/profile/100058038401756/search/?q=joan%20champie. Having interviewed Joan last year, I thought it would be appropriate to respond. Kindly post this letter on your Facebook page and website. Thank you.

First I want to say that I wish you did have the opportunity to get to know Joan. She was a wonderful person and so inspiring. I felt privileged to have interacted with her even though it was only for a short period of time near the end of her life. Having gained insight into her relationship with Marcel Tabuteau through our conversations (including the live interview), I wanted to pass on to you what I learned from her.

As Joan pointed out to me, it’s important to understand that things were very different in her time. Viewed through the lens of today, Tabuteau’s treatment of her seems unjust. But she was a trooper and willing to accept the indignities because of the invaluable things he taught her. She felt it was well worth it as did all the other students who studied with him.

The reason Tabuteau did not like taking women students was because conductors of the major orchestras at that time wouldn’t think of hiring a woman oboist—even a Tabuteau student. Tabuteau felt putting all his time and effort into training a woman was futile because there was no career path for them, and he tried to dissuade women from taking up the instrument for their own sakes. But there were some women who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he reluctantly taught them. They included Joan, Laila Storch, Thelma Neft, Marguerite Smith, Martha Scherer, and Marjorie Jackson. And may I point out that everyone cherished the time they spent with Tabuteau despite the rough time he gave them. He also dished out the same tough treatment to their male counterparts as you know.

Now you might ask why Tabuteau treated all his students as he did. It certainly would not be acceptable today. But that’s the way it was then. Gillet (his teacher) and many teachers of that generation practiced that method. Tabuteau continued it because that is what he knew and grew up with. The students who couldn’t take it dropped out, but those who persevered were grateful for what Tabuteau taught them. As a footnote, many of Tabuteau’s students said it was great training to go through because it prepared them for playing under the difficult conductors they encountered afterward such as Toscanini, Stokowski, Reiner, and Szell—all dictators in their own right. 

Laila Storch’s biography contains numerous tributes by his students: woodwind, string and brass players; pianists, vocalists – all attesting how important he was to their musical lives. Tabuteau gave them something special that their own teachers couldn’t. Those who learned from him can’t all be wrong in their praise. He was a giant to them.

Throughout your post, you chastise Tabuteau for his behavior, measuring it by today’s values. I ask you to please take a step back and try to see things as they were then. Also try to appreciate what Tabuteau did to advance oboe playing and for the musicianship he instilled in so many. Today (July 2nd) being his birthday, let’s grant him the credit he deserves. 

Finally, most oboists of the Tabuteau school wouldn’t agree with you in dismissing his importance in regard to reeds, phrasing, and so forth. Indeed, Tabuteau paved the way for you too, Katherine, whether or not you wish to acknowledge it. Surely, he was far from perfect, but does he really deserve the full treatment you give him? I think not. 

Marc Mostovoy

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