3.5 Right (Correct) Hand Position
Context
I have entitled this whole section “Relativity” because with particular emphasis on the question of sound, I want to emphasise the need for all musical decisions to be made with reference to the context of the moment.
This seemingly obvious requirement can nevertheless lead to conflict with important elements of many hornists’ training. I have heard too many players performing the way they were taught to play and not the way the music demanded. At its saddest I have witnessed countless hornists struggling against their own best instincts, in the attempt to do it “the way it’s supposed to be.” (see 1.1 The Truth Heresy Conflict)
If we agree that it is our responsibility (a) to perform within and enhance the whole musical endeavour, then just how free are we (b) to play in a style or with a sound entirely of our own choice? How can we continue trying to do it “the way it’s supposed to be” if it no longer fits?
The individual soloist, most often heard in recital or concerto, would seem to naturally have more freedom of choice than an orchestral player. A soloist’s musical decisions can be made far more independently even than those of musicians working in a chamber music ensemble. For these musicians, the parameters for all decisions are more heavily influenced, and are indeed restricted, by the collective sonic language of the ensemble. However the necessity for making contextual decisions is not restricted to chamber musicians (and truly great soloists recognise this responsibility too).
There are unfortunately many orchestral players for whom competency and success have less to do with answering contextual questions than with merely “getting all the right notes”. This very limited goal can be difficult enough at the best of times. Furthermore, there are many situations where individual decisions may seem irrelevant, either because of an over-controlling, tyrannical conductor, or because the ensemble environment is nearly impervious to individual contributions.
However orchestral players are subject to the same demands of context, and very importantly, they can benefit enormously by working within, and not against the musical context. Doing so makes everything easier and is in fact the only legitimate option for an orchestral hornist. It is highly inefficient to try to “bang square pegs into round holes”.
The issue of CONTEXT is paramount. And, just as in the old saying, “one man’s meat is another’s poison”, the permissible and impermissible aspects of horn playing can only ever be relative issues, determined not by school of playing, but by the musical context. The question should be, “What KIND of horn playing is desirable?” instead of the statement, “This is how we do it”.
Here are some of the contextual decisions a musically responsible hornist must be able to make whilst in the middle of playing:
• tone colour: brighter or darker?
• loudness/balance/presence: heavier, lighter, fatter, more slender?
• attack: harder or softer?
• brassiness: how much? when?
• note lengths: what are the musically… and acoustically appropriate lengths?
• dotted rhythms: arithmetic or more double-dotted?
• resonance: a drier or more ringing sound?
• intonation: melodic, just, or tempered?
• vibrato: yes or no? If yes, how much and when?
A sensitive, responsive hornist will also carefully consider choice of instrument, instrument position, seating position, hand position, even mouthpiece, in creating the kind of sound most appropriate for the context.
Having to think about all of these things while at the same time trying to master the horn, a famously difficult instrument, may seem like a colossal additional burden. But the truth is that NOT considering them actually makes horn playing more difficult.
Robin Hood — an anecdote
According to the famous legend, Robin Hood took part in an archery contest. The marksman preceding him had put an arrow into the absolute centre of the target and Robin, following and disguised, succeeded in splitting that arrow with his own. In the eyes of the Sheriff of Nottingham the second archer was better than the first and he promptly identified Robin and arrested him.
What was so fascinating about this extraordinary shot? Why was it the stuff of myth and legend? Was Robin Hood’s shot in some way truly better than that of his opponent’s?
No, it was actually a tie: Robin’s shot was in fact no better than his opponent’s. Both archers were equally good; both had been able to hit the centre of the “bull’s eye” in exactly the same place! But since there was only one CENTRE of the target, there was only room for one arrow at a time in that centre. In fact, had the shooting order been reversed and Robin had hit the centre of the “bull’s eye” first, followed by his opponent, who then split the preceding arrow, nothing (except which of them was arrested) should have changed. If ten, or for that matter, even a hundred master archers were able to hit this same spot, one after the other, then they would all have to split the preceding archers’ arrows.
A centred tone on the horn is always fascinating—for every hornist and listener—just as the centre of the target, the “bull’s eye”, is for every archer. Irrespective of differences in tonal and musical expression preferences, the “bull’s eye” of a tone is always the “bull’s eye”, and when your “arrow” hits the “bull’s eye” of the tone, your sound becomes fascinating.
An essential element of a fascinating tone is perfect, indeed fascinating intonation. It is not enough to merely “get the right notes”, nor to achieve acceptable intonation (i.e. hitting the target). I am talking about being ineluctably, convincingly, absolutely in tune.
In the belief that we need a new name for this quality of sound, and still lacking a better definition, I suggest: “super intonation” (in-tone-ation).
So, sounding fascinating would be desirable. OK, but should it be mandatory? In a word, yes. In my experience, a fascinating sound is an absolute prerequisite for performance success. Every hornist can and must centre his or her sound just as well as Robin Hood placed his arrow.
Fire and Light — imaging
Over the years I have used all sorts of images, ranging from candle flames to lasers in order to illustrate focussing of the sound, the mind and the ear.
Consider for a moment the fact, that everything you put into the horn and expect, or hope, to come out the other end of the instrument, must pass through a tiny hole in the mouthpiece most often less than 5 mm in diameter.
Do you consider this hole, the mouthpiece bore, more as a constricting small tube, or rather as a huge, wide pipe you must somehow fill?
Or could it be the keyhole in a magic door, a passage to a fantastic musical and acoustically sensual universe?
Think of Alice in Wonderland, who sipped from a bottle marked “Drink Me” and shrank to be so small she could step through a tiny door leading to a strange world beyond. What if you were able to conjure up some kind of comparable horn magic and, just as you begin to play, you suddenly become minutely small, instantly slipping and speeding down the inner slope of your mouthpiece, through the bore—barely touching the metal wall—shooting off through the curling, glistening tubes of your instrument. You race towards the light, arriving at the bell where you continue to accelerate, ignoring the hand that tries to block your way and soar out into the concert hall, incomprehensibly larger and more magnificent than you ever were before the magic journey started! What a trip!
Consider a candle, burning quietly, undisturbed by any breeze or draught. How still its flame is and yet how intense at the same time! Scalpel-like it looks as if it could cut as surgically as any razor blade. The light it casts, at first glance hardly bright enough to read by, is still strong enough to be surprisingly visible even at great distances. Its slight and fragile fire can barely keep a teapot warm, could be extinguished with a single, gentle puff of air, and yet it is also capable of igniting a massively destructive conflagration. Could this be the nature of pianissimo?
Imagine a laser beam transfixing you, your horn and even the music stand, like a spear. What colour do you like best? One hornist suggested blue, a cool colour. An incomprehensibly concentrated beam of light energy. In blue. An immaterial and yet immutable beam of light—burning? streaming? shining? through your mind, though your horn, from somewhere behind you to somewhere “out there”, through the page of music on your stand, and on through the listener, on and on .... or could it be down and down .... or even up and up, ever upwards, into infinity, your very breath consumed and subsumed in this beam of energy?
How or what might our sounds be like then?
Alice?
Candle?
Laser?
A concentration of our being?
Concentrations of energy, sources of light or heat?
A conversion of our thoughts into pure sound?
What temperature is your sound?
What colour is your sound?
Sound vs. Music?
“I am a musician first and only secondly a hornist” is a very politically correct statement.
This is a favourite assertion by a number of hornists I know and it is echoed by countless other instrumentalists in the profession. It is very difficult to take issue with such idealism. Nevertheless I am going to do just that and run the risk of seeming to contradict myself by making the “unmusical” suggestion that we should see ourselves as hornists first and as musicians second.
Why?
I fell in love with the horn while I was still a very young child. Although I was certainly sensitive to the magic of music, it was the horn’s specific sound, not necessarily the structure of a phrase by Mozart that fired my imagination. I responded first and most powerfully to the sensual impact of the sound of the horn and so do countless members of all the orchestral audiences in the world.
We imperil ourselves if we fail to produce a viscerally exciting sound, irrespective of how wonderful our phrasing may be. If the listener does not react with an “Ah, the horn!”, we shall have to work too hard to “sell” our phrasing.
The idiosyncratic and unique sound of the horn is an essential tactical ingredient.
Consider the electrifying opening of the last movement in Mahler’s 5th symphony. A single note is sounded by the horn, like a bell. Could that have been successfully orchestrated for any other instrument? Which instrument can rival the horn’s sound for sheer sonic impact?
Put in a brutally simple way, if your sound is fascinating and you do nothing more than play in time and in tune, you will already be making a positive impression on your audience. Because after all, playing with a fascinating sound is an essential part of musical performance.
N.B. This is not necessarily a contradiction of what I write earlier in 3.1. Context. In the overall soundscape of an orchestra or of a wind quintet, the hornist’s ability to celebrate and modify his instrument’s enormous tonal potential will play a critical role in the ensemble’s success.
Composers orchestrate their music for specific instruments—they have a clear idea of which instrumental sounds are most appropriate for their musical material. Consequently there are frequent critical moments when the horn must sound like a horn and not like a euphonium or a bassoon and these are the times when our fascinating horn sound is so important.
There are however countless times when the horn must blend in with other instruments, within the context of the orchestration. A less than beautiful basic sound makes this kind of work exceedingly difficult.
From the brass section’s point of view, the horn’s register and sound palette positions it between the trumpets and the trombones. The horn sound should be richer than a bass trumpet and warmer than a trombone—and yet leave room for the Wagner Tubas. They still have to fit between the horns and the trombones. Too light and bright a sound and the horn falls into the low trumpet section; too dark and heavy and there is no room for Wagner Tubas because the horns will have usurped this spot. I once heard a brass section where both the trombones AND the Wagner Tubas were brighter and louder than the dull, muffled horns. Balances were severely distorted and the players struggled.
This kind of confused colour spectrum damages the music and makes playing orchestral horn even more difficult.
Right (Correct) Hand Position
Question: Which is the correct position for the right hand?
Answer: There can be no single correct hand position! It all depends on what kind of sound you need to produce. It depends on the context.
Many of us leave our right hands forgotten and virtually immobile in the bell, often unaware that our sound might no longer fit the music around us. We try vainly to be loud enough or quiet enough, something that is very difficult to do with a single, fixed hand position and the resulting inflexible sound.
Here is an example of the trouble we can get into. Particularly in ensemble situations with woodwinds, when we are accused of not being quiet enough, and if we’re playing on a horn with a large throated bell, we sometimes make the situation actually worse by covering the bell more. While this can dampen the sound a little more, it does so at the cost to our tone of high harmonics, frequently resulting in an even darker, heavier, foggier, diffuse or muffled sound. As such we can continue to pervade and blanket the more slender and less resonant woodwinds, even when we are playing pianissimo, our sound still too “present”.
In this example, the solution to the problem can sometimes lie in a surprising direction. If we instead open up the bell and brighten or “whiten” the sound (admitting more “light” and not to be confused with “edginess”!) we can actually gain clarity and definition. Although the immediate impression is that we actually get louder, this permits us to slip in among the woodwinds’ more slender tone colours and, rather than blanketing them in a dark, indistinct foggy blanket, we actually seem to blend better. Even if we seem initially a little louder, our sound is lighter both in colour and weight and actually fits better.
On the other hand, when we cover the bell too much when the music calls for fff, and we blow as hard as we can, we simply don’t reach the required loudness. We might achieve a metallic rattling of the horn bell’s walls and a strange, quasi-stopped sound, but in any case the other stronger and more numerous low-range instruments will easily over-power the horn’s lower frequencies, these being less directional. What will be missing are the upperrange harmonics that not only contribute to the horn’s unmistakable sound—they also help the listener geographically locate the horn in the overall musical landscape. These vital upper harmonics, as well as clarity of articulation are killed off when we leave our hands too far inside the bell.
We are permanently confronted with the problem of matching our horn tone to the dictates of the musical context: when the orchestra or chamber music group is producing a lighter, more transparent sound, we are going to have to match it and fit into this lighter-weight context. Conversely, a heavier, denser, more massive orchestral sound might require a more penetrating horn sound.
Perhaps therefore it might be helpful to additionally think of horn tone in terms of mass or weight.
An interesting personal anecdote: As a result of a series of sportcaused fractures to my right hand and collar bone while still a student, I found myself forced—more than once and for some weeks at a time—to play the horn without any right hand in the bell whatsoever. At that time I was in North America, in a world then dominated by Conn 8d’s, frequently played quite covered and with the bells supported on the knee.
Control of intonation was indeed an immediate problem, however I learned to resolve this fairly easily through careful use of the mouth cavity and embouchure. The more open, and to my ears at first, somewhat harsh or brash sound actually needed only minimal modulation—again through changes in blowing and embouchure—and was welcomed by all musicians I played with.
Once I healed enough to use my right hand again, holding the horn indeed became easier, but there was no going back to my former hand position. I had simply experienced too many advantages with an open bell.
It is true that the right hand is technically necessary some of the time, i.e.:
• to hold the horn
• for “stopping”
• for occasional intonation adjustment
• and to some extent for shadings of tone colour.
But where did the idea come from, that the right hand should be held in one, single “correct” position? Perhaps we have believed that we should emulate our Natural Horn forbears and keep the hand in a position from which all degrees of “stopping” are practicable. Few of us however play modern double horns in period music ensembles.
But what if the modern horn bell pointed forward, like the other brass instruments and we couldn’t reach it with our right hands? How might we feel playing it? Pretty exposed I should think. Are our trumpet, trombone and tuba colleagues not therefore braver than we are? Perhaps every hornist should be required to play for a few days on a Mellophonium.19
Does the spiralling, curving horn, pointed backwards, possibly also send us subliminal signals that we can “disguise” our musical output with the hand? Is it possible that, subconsciously, we think of the right hand as a kind of “cheating” mute, a “split note” filter or “clam” catcher?
Aside from the challenge to, and the consequent strengthening of our performance nerves, what other musical reasons might there be to play with a more “open” right hand?
How about this: We must, where necessary, be able to match the heavy brass’ open-belled, loud dynamic levels—and we already point backwards! What if there is little or no reflective surface to help project our sound? We are going to have to compensate. This is particularly relevant in the lower registers where an open bell offers truly significant advantages.
I do not believe there can be any correct hand position other than the appropriate one for any given musical moment. Perhaps, however, I should make some general and hopefully useful suggestions:
1. Try to reflect your sound upwards and, if possible, away from your body when you seek projection. This may also involve moving the horn bell further away from your body.
2. Check to see that your sleeve is not absorbing too much energy. Is your wrist free of clothing material, which might be likely to absorb too much sound?
3. Are your fingers or your palm in any way interfering with, or blocking the sound’s passage out of the bell?
4. How do you hold the horn, on your knee or free of it? Decide for yourself if holding your instrument off the knee doesn’t by itself result in improved sound intensity, richness and projection. Remember that when playing standing up, as in a recital or as a concerto soloist, the bell is de facto free of the knee and vibrates more freely. Playing on the knee and thereby inhibiting the bell’s vibrations, should be a conscious and deliberate artistic decision, made solely in order to achieve a specific sound. Be mindful that this position also restricts the possibility of adjusting the angle of the horn on the mouth as and when required.
5. Try differently open hand positions, all the way to carrying the horn on the pad of your upwards-extended thumb with your other fingers flat against the inside of the bell. Try rotating the hand through 180°, from deflecting the sound downwards to upwards.
As a rule, I believe we should always try to play as openly as possible, right up to the point where intonation starts to suffer. This allows the horn a new immediacy and presence within the orchestration and, instead of struggling with acoustic disadvantages we find we have a richer range of sound options from which to make choices. We no longer have to struggle to keep up with the orchestra from “backstage”; instead we are right out there, centre-stage!
Furthermore an open hand creates less resistance to the flow of air and the horn’s response will be freer and more immediate.
The goal is not to play with a “correct hand position”.
The goal is to make music with the most fascinating and thrilling sound possible, using a hand position that helps achieve this!
Brassiness
It’s funny isn’t it? The horn is a brass instrument; it is made of brass. And yet in many places it is considered a cardinal sin to sound “brassy”.
There are hornists and other brass players who consider it desirable to maintain, across the entire range, a nearly monochromatic tone, often described as “creamy”, “dark” or “veiled”. One even described his ideal horn sound as “muddy blue”.
As you can already tell, I don’t agree, and it would be easier just to say it is all simply a matter of taste and leave it at that. However, going on to define the term “brassiness” as “tone break-up” is, however, misguided and misleading. The two are simply not the same.
Demonising “brassiness” robs us of the opportunity not only of extending and enriching our tonal palette, but also cripples our ensemble skills and flexibility. Brassiness is a vital colour or effect, which can, must be, and IS used to great effect in various kinds and sizes of ensemble. Regardless of how top individual players may describe their sound ideals, they will invariably use tastefully applied doses of brassiness when on the job. Yes indeed, the deliberate and tasteful use of brassiness is an essential part of the tonal palate.
Not only do all leading hornists know how to use brassiness—they do it too. It’s just that some of them might just not admit to it. Once again we encounter the conflict between “the way it’s supposed to be and the way it actually is”.
Playing in an orchestra, for example, requires a much wider dynamic range from us than we shall use in any other context. Just how wide that range must be only becomes apparent after one takes one’s place in an orchestra. It is vital to recognise the fact that the term “dynamic range” refers to much more than merely “loud” and “quiet”. Instead, the tonal range can also go from “slender” to “fat”, from “dark” to “bright”, from “small” to “big”, from “soft” to “hard” etc. (see 3.7 Word Game).
We must therefore learn to modulate our tone, to play with colour and effect, in order to expand our range of expression and projection.
I would even go so far as to maintain that there is almost no sound on the horn that does not have its place somewhere in the repertoire, and one of the colour effects indispensable to an orchestral hornist is brassiness. Quite frankly, I don’t see how it’s possible to convince a listener that you’re playing the horn loudly without augmenting the tone with a certain amount of brassiness.
A useful image might be to consider brassiness like the silver lining around a cloud with the sun behind it. We can and must be able to adjust the balance between the central sound and the brightly shining halo.
When we narrow the horn’s unparalleled range of colours and radiance by avoiding brassiness, it becomes harder for the listener (and the conductor) to locate the horn in the musical context (see 3.5 Hand Position). The result can be a muffled and muddy sounding horn section that cannot hold its own with, and against the other heavy brass.
Confronted with an American horn section that at the time played very covered and with the bells on the knee, the great Hungarian conductor Antal Dorati complained, “it sounds like the horns are underwater!”
More is required of us than simply the ability to play loud and quiet. We must change the size and shape of our sound too. Our sonic footprint must suit the context of the moment. It is hugely counter-productive to be unable to adapt one’s sound to the contextual requirements; it makes everything much, much more difficult. Flexibility is not just desirable; it’s necessary.
How do we achieve this?
First, we must give ourselves permission to play with different colours and effects, including brassiness.
Second, we must give ourselves permission to make the necessary technical changes to achieve these colours.
Third, we must start to experiment—with an open mind and an open, critical ear. Deliberately try to break every rule in the book except one:
Word Game
Words are extremely poor tools for describing music and sound. Words can also be dangerous when we use them carelessly and/or mechanically. If we consider carefully and sensitively, however, we can choose words that actually help us make better musical choices.
Look at the following two columns of words and note how I have them paired up.
1. Pick any ten words from either column that describe attributes of an attractive horn tone for you.
2. Now look across at their opposites.
3. Do these new ten “opposite” words necessarily describe unattractive aspects of tone to you?
Word Game
| dead | alive |
| dark | bright |
| heavy | light |
| dull | shiny |
| big | small |
| fat | thin |
| relaxed | tense |
| warm | cool |
| hot | cold |
| broad | narrow |
| open | closed |
| loose | tight |
| rich | lean |
| leaden | brilliant |
| opaque | transparent |
| blasting | projecting |
| wooly | crisp |
| firm | flaccid |
| strong | weak |
| stiff | flexible |
| vibrant | bland |
| edgy | blunt |
| focussed | diffuse |
| veiled | direct |
| mellow | harsh |
| stuffy | clear |
| soft | hard |
| full-bodied | slender |
| wooden | ringing |
| contrasting | blending |
19 Can be played with a horn mouthpiece, this is a large-belled f alto instrument like a descant horn, pointing forwards like a trumpet or trombone. Used extensively by Stan Kenton in the 1960’s