E is for . . .
Nov. 24th, 2005 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
velvetpageWe went to my dad's for dinner tonight. Amidst revelations of the political sort (my dad planning to vote NDP, for example, which nearly knocked my whole world askew) Dad and Elizabeth started playing a funny-sound game. It involved buzzing the lips. Aunty Heather and Uncle Jon got involved too, everyone happily buzzing their lips.
After five minutes of this, during which all conversation pretty much stopped, my dad looked at me with delight and said, "You know, that was a perfect buzz. She's got a great embrasure."
I haven't heard or used the word "embrasure" since my last music camp fourteen years ago, but I know what it means. It's the muscle in your lips - the one that allows for buzzing, and raspberries - and playing a brass instrument.
Elizabeth loudly announced at this point that she was "all done," so we got up from the table and Dad hurried off to find a cornet mouthpiece or two - one for him, one for Elizabeth. On an old B5 mouthpiece originally bought for my brother to learn on and used by all four of us, Elizabeth buzzed happily away, making a pretty good humming sound with just the mouthpiece. Dad buzzed right back on his lovely $200-soprano mouthpiece, thrilled.
Then he got out his cornet.
This is a beautiful instrument. It was bought as a graduation present by Dad's family when he finished training college, and it's a silver-plated gem in excellent condition. He fitted his mouthpiece into it and played a simple scale. Elizabeth watched enthralled for a moment, then said, "I do, Grandad!"
He took his mouthpiece out, put hers in, and held it to her lips.
I have never heard a child under three produce a consistent sound on a brass instrument. I've heard them do it by accident, one time out of five or six tries. I was expecting that.
What I got was a nearly-consistent, surprisingly clear tone. It wavered a bit between a C and a G, because there were no valves pressed; she was using her lip to produce the different sounds. With a few rough buzzing sounds scattered between the notes, she managed to play C, then G, and made it clear that she heard the difference. She tried again, and experimented with going up and down between them. Grandad showed her how to hold it. Her hands weren't big enough to encircle the valves, nor her fingers big enough to press them, but she was getting notes clear enough, if I hadn't known better I'd have assumed she was six years old and had been playing for several days.
Dad dug up something less expensive than the B5 - it's a $75 mouthpiece in good condition in spite of the wear and tear four learners put it through - and she wandered around for the next twenty minutes, happily buzzing away on her little antique cornet mouthpiece.
My child has just proven herself to be a worthy six-generation Salvationist. She's also clearly a descendant of my grandfather, who used to be a fine cornet soloist. She's going to be a cornet player.
After five minutes of this, during which all conversation pretty much stopped, my dad looked at me with delight and said, "You know, that was a perfect buzz. She's got a great embrasure."
I haven't heard or used the word "embrasure" since my last music camp fourteen years ago, but I know what it means. It's the muscle in your lips - the one that allows for buzzing, and raspberries - and playing a brass instrument.
Elizabeth loudly announced at this point that she was "all done," so we got up from the table and Dad hurried off to find a cornet mouthpiece or two - one for him, one for Elizabeth. On an old B5 mouthpiece originally bought for my brother to learn on and used by all four of us, Elizabeth buzzed happily away, making a pretty good humming sound with just the mouthpiece. Dad buzzed right back on his lovely $200-soprano mouthpiece, thrilled.
Then he got out his cornet.
This is a beautiful instrument. It was bought as a graduation present by Dad's family when he finished training college, and it's a silver-plated gem in excellent condition. He fitted his mouthpiece into it and played a simple scale. Elizabeth watched enthralled for a moment, then said, "I do, Grandad!"
He took his mouthpiece out, put hers in, and held it to her lips.
I have never heard a child under three produce a consistent sound on a brass instrument. I've heard them do it by accident, one time out of five or six tries. I was expecting that.
What I got was a nearly-consistent, surprisingly clear tone. It wavered a bit between a C and a G, because there were no valves pressed; she was using her lip to produce the different sounds. With a few rough buzzing sounds scattered between the notes, she managed to play C, then G, and made it clear that she heard the difference. She tried again, and experimented with going up and down between them. Grandad showed her how to hold it. Her hands weren't big enough to encircle the valves, nor her fingers big enough to press them, but she was getting notes clear enough, if I hadn't known better I'd have assumed she was six years old and had been playing for several days.
Dad dug up something less expensive than the B5 - it's a $75 mouthpiece in good condition in spite of the wear and tear four learners put it through - and she wandered around for the next twenty minutes, happily buzzing away on her little antique cornet mouthpiece.
My child has just proven herself to be a worthy six-generation Salvationist. She's also clearly a descendant of my grandfather, who used to be a fine cornet soloist. She's going to be a cornet player.