Increasing range is slow work

Unfortunately, there is no satisfactory method for acquiring a good upper register without actually playing in that range. Such practice can be made considerably less hazardous and frustrating, however, if the player understands several points. First the acquisition of a solid upper register takes time, considerable time—years, not days or weeks. Any player who can add a genuinely usable whole step or two a year to his range is doing very well indeed. Second, the rate of increase will slow down over the years. As with almost any highly developed skill, each successive level of accomplishment requires more time and effort to achieve. Every additional step gained will likely take longer to reach than its predecessors. For this reason, players often think they are making no progress when, in reality, they are merely encountering more sophisticated playing conditions that will take more time to master. Third, some players have a greater natural affinity for the high range than other players. Not all singers, for example, are born to be sopranos aor tenors, and even within these voice categories ranges may vary greatly. The goal should be to develop to the fullest whatever potential exists within each player, and time spent comparing one's abilities with someone else's is simply time wasted.

Keith Johnson, The Art of Trumpet Playing (Ames, Iowa: The Iowa State University Press, 1981), p. 103-04

Participating in a creative act

To play the trumpet is to participate in a creative act, since without the performer music would have no life. To be aware that one is participating in such an act, however small the role may seem, is to recognize the responsibility each person has to produce his particular contribution at the highest possible level.

Keith Johnson, The Art of Trumpet Playing (Ames, Iowa: The Iowa State University Press, 1981), pp. 50-51

Even Clarke took decades to learn the cornet

I was cornet soloist with Gilmore at the age of twenty-four, held the same position with Sousa at twenty-five and did not really know how to play the cornet correctly until I was thirty-five! Since then it has never been a task to play my chosen instrument all day long.

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist  (BrassMusician.com: 2011) (orig. pub. 1934), Ch. 24

Inspiring soloist plays easily, without a purple face

The cornetist again arose, but this time stepped to the front of the platform, and to my wonderment played the entire solo through for the second time without seeming tired or making a slip. The remarkable thing about his performance was that he played so easily, gracefully; apparently with unconcern, and without any facial muscular contortions or movements. His face did not become purple, distorted, or show any signs of strain. I always had made such hard work in playing even a simple little polka which did not reach G on the first space above, that to watch him play with such perfect ease a number which seemed filled with top "C's" and then end it on the highest note, actually dumfounded me. It was both a revelation and an inspiration!

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist (orig. pub. 1934; reprinted in 2011 by BrassMusician.com), ch. 10.

Hurrah for amateur orchestras

What pity that there are not more good amateur orchestras in this country today! Of course, the public school orchestras all over the country are doing a wonderful work, but unfortunately their players are confined wholly to students.

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist (orig. pub. 1934; reprinted in 2011 by BrassMusician.com), ch. 1.

Learning an instrument: maddening, but worth it

There was a gap between what her ear heard and what her fingers could manage, and she found this maddening, but each week that gap seemed to narrow just a little. The sounds she made were on their way to beautiful. Her hands were learning to make a wooden body sing.

Carolina de Robertis, The Gods of Tango (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2015), p. 119

Presidential campaigns with torchlight parades and marching bands

How many of my readers remember the Presidential Campaign of 1876? I recall the torchlight processions of both political parties prior to the election; the bugle corps, fife and drum corps and bands of all kinds marching with and playing for hundreds of men some carrying banners with campaign slogans; all bearing torches or wearing caps holding torches, and draped in multi-colored capes. I would lie awake at night listening to bands playing with them.

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist (orig. pub. 1934; reprinted in 2011 by BrassMusician.com), ch. 2. (Clarke turned nine in September 1876.)

It was a presidential election year, with the campaign of 1884 just approaching.

Back in those times all bands were in great demand for torchlight processions in Indianapolis, the same as in other cities, and as brother Ern had become a pretty good trombone player . . ., he began getting acquainted with the different musicians with an eye to business. One day he came home and told me he had an engagement for that night to play with Biessenhertz's Band in a Republican Club parade.

. . .

We made the first parade and were immediately engaged by the Democratic contingent for the following night, after which we seemed to alternate every successive night between the two political parties. This kept the band business might good up to election day, as almost every night there was a rally of some sort.

Id., ch. 11.

The danger of learning bad habits on an instrument

It is astounding how many beginners on musical instruments are allowed to become careless, they themselves not realizing what it means or how much work will have to be undone and done over later in life. To me this negligence in the case of a beginner in music is the same as that of a child who when beginning the study of the multiplication table is permitted to guess of results, such as two times two equals six, or seven times six equals sixteen, and so on.

The very first "guess" should be corrected and reasons explained; the child should be made to understand why twice two equals four. I classify all uncorrected errors as "microbes" which, although invisible to the naked eye, are deadly—even more deadly than an animal as big as an elephant.

One can run away or hide from or dodge an elephant, but not so with a microbe. These minute organisms multiply rapidly and in large number if not immediately drive out of the system.

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist (orig. pub. 1934; reprinted in 2011 by BrassMusician.com), ch. 2.

Clarke decries sloppy practice

I have heard many pupils play page after page of the instruction book, missing the notes here and there and making all manner of misakes without correcting them, then say, "Well, I played fifteen pages of exercises today." There was no realization that evenif only one mistake was made they had not played the fifteen pages, but simply "played at them."

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist (orig. pub. 1934; reprinted in 2011 by BrassMusician.com), ch. 1.

Cornet, the forbidden fruit

My father, who, in my opinion, was one of the best men on earth, forbade me to practice the cornet. For one reason, he did not want me to play a wind instrument, and for another, he was particularly against permitting me to belong to a band, as he thought that association with band musicians was too rough for a boy. Without the intention of being disrespectful or disobedient, I could hardly keep myself away from the cornet for a moment, for I loved it to such an extent.

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist (orig. pub. 1934; reprinted in 2011 by BrassMusician.com), ch. 1.

Job satisfaction of orchestra musicians

The orchestra musician's plight caught the interest of Harvard researcher Richard Hackman, who was studying the job satisfaction of workers employed in a variety of industries. Orchestral musicians were near the bottom, scoring lower in job satisfaction and overall happiness than airline flight attendants, mental health treatment teams, beer salesmen government economic analysts, and even federal prison guards. Only operating room nurses and semiconductor fabrication teams scored lower than these musicians.

Blair Tindall, Mozart in the Jungle: Sex, Drugs, and Classical Music (New York: Grove Press, 2005), p. 215 (citing Paul R. Judy, "Life and Work in Symphony Orchestras: An Interview with J. Richard Hackman," Harmony, April 1996, p. 8)

Herbert Clarke's practice regimen (in case you're looking for a crazy hard New Year's resolution)

[A]t my father's suggestion I took up the study of the viola. He said that if I could learn to play it well enough we would form a family string quartet . . . .

I immediately planned out a schedule for myself to play four full hours on the cornet each forenoon, with four on the viola every afternoon. . . .

One never-to-be-forgotten Sunday afternoon, about a month from the time when the project originally was started, we made our first full try-out on one of Mozart's beautiful string-quartet compositions. Everybody became so deeply absorbed, and the time passed so pleasantly, that nobody gave any thought about supper, although we were called several times. Father suddenly remembering that he was supposed to play the organ at evening church service, finally jumped up and left precipitately without stopping to eat. The rest of us then came down to earth long enough to eat.

This experience, new to me, was so fascinating and so increased my love for good music that I became more determined to follow out my previously planned schedule for routine work and study in a systematic manner. In detail my schedule was as follows: The cornet in the forenoon, with one hour on scales, one hour on slurring, one hour on tonguing and one hour on miscellaneous work: i.e., a little of each of the preceding combined with playing songs and easy solos. I kept this up all that winter, getting up early and working from eight in the morning to twelve noon. The afternoon was devoted to the viola, carrying out the same general system in scale playing, finger exercises, bowing, and playing parting from the different string quartets. My improvement on both instruments astonished even myself.

Herbert L. Clarke, How I Became a Cornetist: The Autobiography of a Cornet-Playing Pilgrim's Progress (1934), ch. 12. (He was 17.)