Joseph Robinson

Remembering his Lessons with Tabuteau in Nice

From his book: Long Winded. Chicago: Joshua Tree Publishing, 2018. with kind permission of the author

RobinsonE xplaining the Tabuteau System
Joseph Robinson explaining the Tabuteau System

Below is an excerpt from Daniel Stolper’s interview with Joseph Robinson covering several aspects of the Tabuteau System (The Double Reed 1981, Volume IV, No. 1, Article 14).

JR (Joseph Robinson): Then he [Marcel Tabuteau] took my oboe away and told me to put the reed into a tube of cane, and to practice 1-2-3-4-5-4-3-2-1 for hours a day. I sat under a palm tree at the summer academy where I was staying, like some sort of an idiot, peeping on this tube of cane. Something that seemed so simple in concept was very difficult in practice, which was to play 1-2-3-4-5-4-3-2-1 on a monotone as he did, keeping the pitch constant and making those discrete levels of volume sound alike on both sides of the center. All of us who’ve worked at this sort of thing know how much harder it is to do than it seems when it’s described to us. He held me to that for a long time, and what I learned from that — was that the most basic fundamental relationship in oboe playing has to do with the reed opening and wind speed. For Tabuteau the most important significant variable for the interpretive musician was the dynamic shape of the phrase, and I think that’s why he emphasized his number system — at Curtis I hear he went up to 13, a very sophisticated level. Changing the wind speed has implications for the pitch. If you don’t believe it, just try it with a reed stuck into a tube of cane. I tried to play a little louder and the pitch went up, or softer and it went down, so it became very clear to me what I only intuitively had dealt with before, namely that the size of the reed opening must compensate for the amount of air. Since then I’ve learned that at a pianissimo the pitch is almost totally sustained by the embouchure — the aperture of the reed is virtually closed down to nothing. At that point I bite the reed closed with my jaws. I’ll interject that this is an analytical approach to the most fundamental aspect of tone production. I think there are a few players who make diminuendos without closing the reed appreciably because they play reeds that are stable enough not to change drastically with the wind speed, and because the reed is sophisticated enough to allow for more reed to be taken in as an alternative to closing. But in any case there has to be compensation for the change of wind.

DS (Daniel Stolper): Did Tabuteau talk about physical things like this in regard to controlling dynamic levels?

JR: He said – in a very strong, emphatic way at one of my last lessons — that I should blow toward the bridge of my nose and keep the focus of the wind stream as high as possible. That’s always meant to me the opposite of the throat orientation. I try to keep the feeling of compression as high and as close to the reed as possible. Tabuteau never talked in terms of the abdominal musculature, but I myself am so convinced of the importance of an unimpeded, efficient air?ow as a starting point, that I spend a great deal of time helping students get around to breathing abdominally — and freely, eliminating feelings of constriction — and I think this is one of the most difficult things we have to deal with. Abdominally the feeling of support is often confused with an isometric, and futile, kind of tension and the perception is almost identical for the right kind of support and the wrong kind if you’re thinking of signals from the abdominal area. I would say the most helpful indication of a proper use of the abdominal musculature is a free expansion and contraction in that area. Displacement of the musculature is one key to its proper use. It would be possible to chart the level of dynamic in a passage I play by using a stylus similar to what’s used for an EKG, charting the motion in and out of my gut. The effort of the abdominal musculature is definitely related to the speed of the wind. High speeds of course cost more effort than lower speeds — I make a diminuendo, my stomach comes out. I feel a pulling inward of the abdominal musculature for a breath accent — up and in. I involve the muscles from far below my lungs — even those below the belt line, pushing the air up from the bottom. When I’m blowing like that my chest comes up — a rebound from that force of the stomach underneath. Concern about controlling the wind was underlined by Tabuteau‘s interest in this subject — he commented that violinists who could control the left hand were dime-a-dozen, the ones who can really handle the bow are the great ones. He was concerned about the fact that not many wind players try, as a regular discipline, any exercises which are designed to help train the wind itself. I think of one of the first things he says on his record — that as a young man he trained his wind by blowing the flame of a lighted candle — almost blowing it out. I used to have the feeling of flexible support on the crescendo side, but on the diminuendo side I didn’t. On the back side, so to speak, the pressure and tension would suddenly be in my gut, but the note would sound unsupported. I realized that my stomach muscles moved in in proportion to the wind speed on the crescendo side but didn’t return on the back side. So I was concerned about why I didn’t feel the same at “1” on the back side as I had at “1” on the front side. An exercise that proved helpful was to take a note and to allow the pitch to move without any compensatory adjustment in my embouchure, using the least embouchure that would keep air from escaping around the reed . . . blow slowly, then faster and faster, allowing the pitch to go up and down as kind of a barometer of the wind speed. I realized through that, that the pitch and density of the note were exactly proportional to the wind speed and to my effort. Then I felt I was on the road to recovery, because I realized I’d been working much too hard on the diminuendo side, and fighting myself, because the effort in my gut was not related to the wind speed. The pitch will show a lot, but people with good ears don’t like this exercise because they just don’t want to hear the pitch moving around like that. Getting back to my first lessons with Tabuteau and all that peeping on the tube of cane, the relationship between reed opening and wind speed relative to pitch seemed most important. As far as I’m concerned that’s such a basic thing — like an XY equation. The one variable, the wind speed, has implications for the pitch which have to be counterbalanced by changes in the reed opening. That means pianissimo levels for the same pitch are supported almost entirely by the embouchure, which is “biting,” because you can’t close the reed opening with your lips alone. For the softer dynamics as far as I’m concerned, the embouchure does become more like lip-covered teeth. And I use my jaw muscles, and Tabuteau did too whether that’s representative of his playing as a whole, I don’t know, but when I was with him, he did that. The pitch is supported at the other end of the dynamic spectrum almost entirely by the wind, with teeth pulled apart as much as lips will permit. Tabuteau’s image for that was a fish coming up out of the water after a bug! A word of warning to students about that, because it depends upon the reed. Some reeds respond much more drastically to opening and closing than they do in response to the wind. I believe students should have conscious manipulative control of the variables relating to tone production, and that means practicing changing the pitch with embouchure alone — by biting they’ll find that a pitch curve created by the embouchure, like a roller coaster curve, will have parameters almost the same as the pitch curve created by blowing fast and slow. Once those two variables can be manipulated separately, then they can be spliced together so that they compensate for each other in a crescendo-diminuendo trade-off.

JR: There is a third variable in the tone production equation, and that’s reed placement The only thing on Tabuteau‘s lesson records that is addressed directly to a technical problem is the business of making a tone brighter and darker, and he says specifically to move one’s embouchure toward the string and back again. That means that the color of a note is a function of the surface vibration of the cane, the superficial vibration of the cane. The more cane that is exposed in the mouth, the brighter the tone. A third pitch curve can therefore be created by moving the reed in and out, as any student can quickly see. This can be done in two ways: by either moving the lips with the reed, and I think that’s preferable, by changing the vowel from, say EE to OO, or by slipping the cane in and out with the lips in the same place which makes it very hard to recover the tip of the reed once you’ve moved in. I try to have my students practice manipulating all three variables, and so now I guess we have an XYZ equation — very complicated! Tabuteau said the numbers are not just dynamics, they’re also color. I think he DID mean dynamic, I’d be adamant about that – he meant volume of sound, but he also meant color, and the fusion of the two, it seems to me, is a natural outgrowth of the tendency for there to be more potential for ?atting from opening than there is potential for sharping by blowing. At some stage in the search for a maximum dynamic limit, the reed must be taken more into the mouth to compensate for opening, and the tone will therefore be brighter. So you do have a practical fusion in the middle range of a crescendo-diminuendo which creates not just a quantitative change but also a qualitative change. Student players often think — going back to my XYZ equation — that what comes out is what is dictated by their equipment or their embouchure, as though there’s only one F# in there, but we know that there are hundreds of possibilities. Students who do learn to manipulate these variables consciously realize that tone production is sort of like baking a cake — it’s a complex thing; any note is a complex creature made up of elements which they can control in terms of proportions. Once I can say to a student “a little more pressure” or “a little more reed in your mouth” or “a little less wind speed” and have a response which is immediate and direct and well-understood, and once the student can discern these things for himself, then problems can be fixed up and solved right away that otherwise might persist. Tabuteau said that every note has a different place — that was the bad news I got in France! We have to be oboe players in the same way great athletes function — doing difficult things from a posture of relaxation, so that anything is possible at any instant. The only security comes in flexibility. Some players learn to play with a pressure level that might be appropriate for only three notes out of twelve say, and everything else sounds forced or saggy. Most of us get into rigidity out of defensiveness. Most of us play reeds — or have at one stage — that are so unstable that the pitch implications are drastic and at times intolerable, so we bite ?at reeds up and the teeth never come apart. Or there’s a sagging tendency because of weak sides, and then the wind speed never varies. Sometimes it’s the best players who have the biggest problems because their musical standards are high enough not to tolerate these pitch discrepancies. And then it always comes back to whether the student has the courage and the capacity to make big changes. Flexible control of wind, reed opening and placement is the “basic technique” Tabuteau said every player should master before trying to imitate great performers. It’s the heart and soul of correct tone production, and it’s much too complicated to discuss thoroughly here, unfortunately.

Sections

Much of the material on this website is being presented with kind permission of the copyright owners. Any use and/or duplication of certain materials must be approved by the copyright owners. Therefore, you must seek permission at msmostovoy@comcast.net before using or duplicating any material to ascertain whether it is presently under copyright. Certain excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given as per the instructions you will receive from your inquiry. If this website has inadvertently posted material without the proper attribution or authorization, to remedy, please contact msmostovoy@comcast.net.

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

Click here to learn more. 

Please provide your name and email address, and I will send you the whole story.