Arts, Faculty of
Music, School of
DSpace
UBCV
Trainini, Laura
Doctor of Musical Arts - DMA
University of British Columbia
The concept of music embodiment has become a focal point in music research, offering insights into how musicians learn, relate to their instruments, and use their bodies as mediators with the environment. Embodiment replaces the traditional Cartesian divide between body and mind with an integrated view of human experience. Rooted in Merleau- Ponty’s philosophy, embodiment emphasizes the role of body schema in developing a “sense of ownership” and conscious action. In music education, Jaques-Dalcroze’s “Eurhythmics” pioneered an embodied approach, highlighting the importance of movement and spatial awareness in acquiring musical skills. More recently, researchers such as Arnie Cox have underscored the role of sensorimotor processes in musical cognition, emphasizing imitation and deliberate gestures as central to learning. Despite its growing prominence, embodiment has seen limited application in instrumental training. This dissertation examines its potential for flute practice, focusing on how embodied awareness can address technical challenges and improve musicianship. Flute playing inherently involves unconscious processes, such as breathing and sound production, which can be better understood and refined through an embodied lens. The long-standing parallel with singing—a foundational model in flute pedagogy—offers a framework for easily understanding embodiment, given the voice’s intrinsic connection to the body. By examining the physiological similarities in breathing mechanisms and sound emission, this research aims to validate the comparison and define its practical implications for flute practice. Moreover, building on Linda Kaastra’s definition of embodied practice as awareness of typically unconscious processes and on Luc Nijis’ idea of instrumental incorporation, this study investigates how flute playing can integrate body schemata and refine gestures specific to the instrument. Additionally, insights iii from motor skill acquisition theories in sports provide a framework for addressing the physicality of musical performance. Through self-observation and notation, I analyze my practice to cultivate awareness and develop exercises addressing instrumental challenges within embodied practice. This research proposes a model for uncovering unconscious processes, enhancing movement awareness, and empowering flutists to use technical tools creatively. By integrating embodiment into flute pedagogy, the study contributes to a deeper understanding of practice and artistic growth.
MUSIC EMBODIMENT IN FLUTE PRACTICE AND PERFORMANCE by Laura Trainini A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF MUSICAL ARTS in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES (Music – Orchestral Instrument) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) April 2025 © Laura Trainini, 2025 ii The following individuals certify that they have read, and recommend to the Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies for acceptance, the dissertation entitled: Music Embodiment in Flute Practice and Performance submitted by Laura Trainini in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Musical Arts in Orchestral Instruments Examining Committee: Josè Franch-Ballester, Associate Professor of Clarinet and Chamber Music, School of Music, UBC Supervisor Dr. Claudio Vellutini, Associate Professor of Musicology, School of Music, UBC Co-Supervisor Christie Reside, Adjunct Professor of Flute, School of Music, UBC Committee Member Dr. Jonathan Girard, Associate Professor, School of Music, UBC University Examiner Dr. Katharina Piechocki, Associate Professor, Department of French, Hispanic and Italian Studies, UBC University Examiner iii Abstract The concept of music embodiment has become a focal point in music research, offering insights into how musicians learn, relate to their instruments, and use their bodies as mediators with the environment. Embodiment replaces the traditional Cartesian divide between body and mind with an integrated view of human experience. Rooted in Merleau- Ponty’s philosophy, embodiment emphasizes the role of body schema in developing a “sense of ownership” and conscious action. In music education, Jaques-Dalcroze’s “Eurhythmics” pioneered an embodied approach, highlighting the importance of movement and spatial awareness in acquiring musical skills. More recently, researchers such as Arnie Cox have underscored the role of sensorimotor processes in musical cognition, emphasizing imitation and deliberate gestures as central to learning. Despite its growing prominence, embodiment has seen limited application in instrumental training. This dissertation examines its potential for flute practice, focusing on how embodied awareness can address technical challenges and improve musicianship. Flute playing inherently involves unconscious processes, such as breathing and sound production, which can be better understood and refined through an embodied lens. The long-standing parallel with singing—a foundational model in flute pedagogy—offers a framework for easily understanding embodiment, given the voice’s intrinsic connection to the body. By examining the physiological similarities in breathing mechanisms and sound emission, this research aims to validate the comparison and define its practical implications for flute practice. Moreover, building on Linda Kaastra’s definition of embodied practice as awareness of typically unconscious processes and on Luc Nijis’ idea of instrumental incorporation, this study investigates how flute playing can integrate body schemata and refine gestures specific to the instrument. Additionally, insights iv from motor skill acquisition theories in sports provide a framework for addressing the physicality of musical performance. Through self-observation and notation, I analyze my practice to cultivate awareness and develop exercises addressing instrumental challenges within embodied practice. This research proposes a model for uncovering unconscious processes, enhancing movement awareness, and empowering flutists to use technical tools creatively. By integrating embodiment into flute pedagogy, the study contributes to a deeper understanding of practice and artistic growth. v Lay Summary Playing an instrument involves the full engagement of the musician’s body. My research explores music embodiment, a concept that highlights how musicians use movement, physical awareness, and even unconscious processes (like breathing) to shape their playing. Instead of seeing the mind and body as separate, embodiment recognizes them as deeply connected in learning and performance. Flute playing, in particular, relies on breathing, posture, and fine motor control, yet these elements are often taken for granted. My study looks at how flutists can develop greater awareness of these processes to improve technique, expression, and overall musicianship. Inspired by methods like Jaques-Dalcroze Eurhythmics—which teaches music through movement—and research on motor skill learning in sports, I examine how flute players can refine their gestures and incorporate physical awareness into their practice. By analyzing my own flute practice and developing targeted exercises, this research offers a model for integrating embodiment into flute training, helping musicians play more effectively, creatively, and with greater ease. Ultimately, this approach aims to enhance musical learning and performance by bridging the gap between technique and body awareness. vi Preface This thesis, written under the guidance of Dr. Claudio Vellutini, is an original, unpublished work which stands as intellectual property of its author, Laura Trainini. The use of Generative AI in this thesis was limited to the use of ChatGPT (GPT-4) for checking sentences and paragraphs for correctness and clarity. vii Table of Contents Abstract ......................................................................................................................................... iii Lay Summary .................................................................................................................................. v Preface ............................................................................................................................................ vi Table of contents ........................................................................................................................... vii List of Figures ................................................................................................................................ ix List of Musical Examples ............................................................................................................... x Copyright Acknowledgement ....................................................................................................... xii Acknowledgements ..................................................................................................................... xiii Dedication ..................................................................................................................................... xv INTRODUCTION ........................................................................................................................... 1 Chapter 1 ......................................................................................................................................... 4 THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK .................................................................................................. 4 1.1 Origin and Development of the Embodiment Concept: Phenomenology and “4E” Cognitive Science ................................................................................................................... 4 1.2 The Embodied Mind in Music ........................................................................................ 8 1.3 Expert Practice .............................................................................................................. 12 1.4 Embodied Musical Practice .......................................................................................... 15 1.5 Skill-Acquisition Strategies Derived from the Sport Field ........................................ 24 Chapter 2 ....................................................................................................................................... 28 PHYSIOLOGICAL PROCESSES IN SOUND PRODUCTION ................................................ 28 2.1 The Breathing Process ................................................................................................... 29 2.2 Sound Production in Voice ........................................................................................... 31 2.3 Acoustic Properties of the Vocal Tract ........................................................................ 37 Chapter 3 ....................................................................................................................................... 44 COMPARISON BETWEEN SINGING AND FLUTE PLAYING ............................................ 44 3.1 Comparing Respiratory Mechanism and Sound Production in Singing and Wind Instruments .......................................................................................................................... 45 3.2 Flutists’ Perspectives ..................................................................................................... 50 3.3 Scientific Evidence ......................................................................................................... 66 Chapter 4 ....................................................................................................................................... 73 THE PRACTICE MODEL ........................................................................................................... 73 4.1 Awareness-Based Strategies and Exercises for Fingers ............................................. 76 4.1.1 Developing Problem Identification Skills and Practice Strategies ...................... 78 4.1.2 Rhythmic Integrity and Beat Internalization ........................................................ 81 4.1.3 Building Automatism ............................................................................................ 88 4.2 Awareness-Based Strategies and Exercises for Breathing ......................................... 90 viii 4.3 Awareness-Based Strategies and Exercises for Emission .......................................... 95 4.3.1 Intonation ............................................................................................................ 101 4.3.2 Legato ................................................................................................................. 105 4.3.3 Staccato .............................................................................................................. 111 4.3.4 Vibrato ........................................................................................................................ 118 4.4 The Emotional Component ......................................................................................... 121 Bibliography ................................................................................................................................ 127 Appendix ..................................................................................................................................... 138 EMISSION AND FLUTE ACOUSTICS ................................................................................... 138 ix List of Figures Figure 1 and 2 Vocal tract areas influenced by the shape of the tongue and pharynx ............ 38 Figure 3 Air containers in the vocal tract ................................................................................ 39 Figure 4 Vocal tract shapes according to different vowels ..................................................... 41 Figure 5 Formants' frequency of vowels ................................................................................. 42 Figure 6-11 Tuning variations according to vowel’s shift .................................................... 102 Figure 12-17 Frequency spectrum variation according to vowel’s shift ............................... 103 Figure 18 Lips position in relation to head-joint riser ........................................................... 133 x List of Musical Examples Example 1. Major thirds ......................................................................................................... 80 Example 2. Right hand: stretching of the little finger ............................................................ 81 Example 3. Eight notes slurred in groups of four ................................................................... 82 Example 4. A variation of the slurring pattern ....................................................................... 82 Example 5. Metric variation ................................................................................................... 82 Example 6. Grouping variation .............................................................................................. 82 Example 7. Phrasing variation applied to regrouping ............................................................ 83 Example 8. Variation in accentuation ..................................................................................... 83 Example 9. Karg Elert Sonata Appassionata mm. 45-48 ....................................................... 83 Example 10. Odd group rearranged into regular chunks ........................................................ 84 Example 11. Regrouping with steps ....................................................................................... 86 Example 12. André Jolivet, Chant de Linos, mm.9 ................................................................ 87 Example 13. Articulation variation ........................................................................................ 87 Example 14. Isolating the passage .......................................................................................... 89 Example 15. Applying a slower rhythm to the tricky switch ................................................. 89 Example 16. Applying a different slower rhythm to the tricky switch .................................. 90 Example 17. Marcel Moyse, De la sonorité, exercise on long notes ...................................... 94 Example 18. Sergey Prokofiev, Sonata for Flute and Piano, mm.1-4 .................................... 95 Example 19. Marcel Moyse, De la sonorité, exercise on flexibility .................................... 106 Example 20. Giampaolo Pretto, Dentro il suono, exercise on singing and playing ............. 106 Example 21. Daniel S. Wood, Studies for the Execution of the Upper Notes of the Flute .. 107 Example 22. Daniel S. Wood, Studies for the Execution of the Upper Notes of the Flute .. 108 xi Example 23. Philippe Bernold, Vocalise 1 ........................................................................... 109 Example 24. Philippe Bernold, Vocalise 14 ......................................................................... 109 Example 25. Consonants and vowels variation on repeated notes ....................................... 112 Example 26. Mathieu André Reichert, Exercise 1 ............................................................... 113 Example 27. Vowels variation on double tonguing ............................................................. 114 Example 28. Mathieu André Reichert, Exercise 2 ............................................................... 116 Example 29. Carl Philip Emanuel Bach, Sonata in A minor for Solo Flute, mm. 1-6 ......... 116 Example 30. Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Midsummer Night's Dream flute solo ........... 116 Example 31. Abdominal impulses for vibrato ...................................................................... 118 Example 32. Giampaolo Pretto, singing and playing for vibrato ......................................... 119 xii Copyright Acknowledgement Musical examples from André Jolivet’s Chant de Linos and Marcel Moyse’s De la sonorité: Art et technique have been reprinted with kind permission from Editions Alphonse Leduc, part of Wise Music Classical International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard Europe BV. Musical examples from Daniel Wood’s Studies for Facilitating the Execution of the Upper Notes of the Flute have been used with permission of Carl Fischer, LLC. Copyright © 1966 by Carl Fischer, Inc. Copyright renewed. All rights assigned to Carl Fischer, LLC. All rights reserved. Used with permission. Musical examples from Giampaolo Pretto Giampaolo Pretto’s Dentro il suono have been reprinted with kind permission of © 2024 Casa Ricordi Srl, part of Universal Music Publishing Classics & Screen International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard Europe BV. Figure 18 has been reprinted with kind permission of Professor Joe Wolfe. All other examples and figures are either in the public domain or fall under the category of fair use. xiii Acknowledgements I would like to express my deepest gratitude to Dr. Vellutini for his continuous support and patience throughout this journey. His guidance and advice have been fundamental in shaping this work. I am also sincerely grateful to my committee members, Professor Christie Reside and José Franch-Ballester, for their thoughtful feedback and for accompanying me through this process. I extend my sincere appreciation to Dr. Hedy Law for her prompt, efficient, and invaluable support. A special thanks to Professor Eve Poudrier and Rena Sharon for igniting the spark that led me to explore multidisciplinary research. Their guidance opened up a vast and previously unimagined horizon, where I was able to bring together diverse interests I never thought could converge. This experience has been highly influential in shaping my relationship with music and musicianship, and it has set me on a path of continued professional growth in music research—one that I am now determined to pursue with enthusiasm and conviction. I am deeply grateful to Brenda Fedoruk and Sharman King for their kindness, encouragement, and friendship. My heartfelt appreciation also goes to Emily Logan and Paula Wise, whose support made navigating the early months of my doctoral journey much smoother. To Matteo, for his unwavering help —thank you. With immense gratitude, I thank my wonderful “Acadian” friends—Carolina, Alejandro and the boys, Daniela, Manuela, and Sofia. Without your help, I would not have been able to get through this program, and your friendship made my time at UBC truly memorable. Finally, I am deeply thankful for the opportunity to have spent these two years on UBC’s beautiful campus. This experience has transformed me both as a musician and as a person, leaving an indelible mark as one of the most significant and influential chapters of my life. xiv Above all, I am endlessly grateful to my parents for their constant support, and especially to my son, who has grown up sharing “mom time” with my studies and has been by my side in every adventure along the way. xv To my son Leonardo, and to my parents, Loredana and Carlo 1 INTRODUCTION The concept of music embodiment has been explored across various fields of music research, including education and performance. It describes a wide range of phenomena, such as how musicians learn, how they relate to the music and their instruments, and how they use their bodies as a medium for interacting with the environment. Despite this diversity, the central idea underpinning music embodiment is the holistic integration of the individual, rejecting the Cartesian separation of body and mind in favor of a unified system. The origins of the concept of embodiment lie in Maurice Merleau-Ponty's philosophy, which assigns the body a primary role in making sense of the world, thus shifting focus away from the mind’s dominance. Émile Jaques-Dalcroze was the first to apply what we would define today as “embodied” techniques to music education and practice, emphasizing the importance of movement and the physical experience of space in acquiring musical skills. This approach formed the basis of his teaching method, Eurythmics, which highlighted the role of sensory-motor skills and bodily perception music learning. In recent decades, there has been a growing interest in a more integrated approach to music practice among musicians and researchers. While the concept of music embodiment has been extensively studied in music education, it remains underexplored in relation to instrumental practice. This dissertation aims to contribute to filling this gap by investigating flute performance within the broader context of music embodiment. Specifically, it examines how using embodied technique in flute playing can enhance instrumental practice and whether this approach can improve flutists’ performative and artistic capabilities. Playing an instrument is indeed a complex activity that requires the coordination of various physiological systems, including neurological control, skeletal system, motor skills, and respiratory system. These 2 systems have been widely studied in fields such as medical science, anatomy, and physiology. More recently, musicians have begun to investigate the connections between the physiological processes behind sound production and how these processes interact with musicianship. Nonetheless, the highly specialized nature of these fields often limits the exchange of recent findings across disciplines. Music embodiment, as explored by pedagogues and researchers in cognitive science, offers a comprehensive framework for addressing this gap. By viewing music as an artistic activity that engages multiple human capacities, the embodiment model provides a tool for bridging theoretical knowledge, physiological understanding, and artistic expression in instrumental practice. In the first chapter, I define the theoretical framework of my research. Starting with Jaques-Dalcroze’s approach, which positions sensory-motor skills at the core of music pedagogy, I trace how the concept of embodiment has evolved through cognitive studies and influenced debates on “expert practice.” I also examine how skill-acquisition strategies from sports science have enriched this framework. Evidence suggests that music embodiment can serve as an effective model for both practicing and performing. The second chapter explores what it means to embody sound production, focusing on the physiological processes of breathing and emission. I highlight the importance of internal awareness in fostering embodied playing, challenging the longstanding but often oversimplified analogy between singing and flute playing. This analogy has historically been used to explain hidden physiological processes that flutists have rarely scrutinized in detail. In the third chapter, I evaluate the validity of the comparison between singing and flute playing by analyzing the two techniques from a physiological perspective. I also investigate how this parallel has been interpreted and applied by flutist-pedagogues and performers. My findings support the comparison and underscore the rootedness of flute 3 technique in the performer’s physiology, demonstrating how a deeper understanding of these connections can enrich expressive capabilities. In the final chapter, I propose a practice model designed to develop explicit awareness of the components of flute playing. This awareness-based practice routine includes steps such as conceptualizing the muscular activity involved in sound production, recognizing these activities in one’s own body (kinesthesia), and gaining effective control over these processes (e.g. diaphragm and larynx) while playing. The exercises are organized around three main areas: finger technique, breathing, and emission. A final section addresses the emotional component as a critical element in connecting body and mind, enhancing the musician’s potential. Ultimately, the embodied model grounds flute playing in both theoretical and physical dimensions, creating an approach that integrates cognitive structures, physiological processes, and sensory-motor components. Through the integration of body and mind, playing the flute no longer feels like an external challenge but becomes an action intrinsically embedded in the performer’s body, achieved through a mindful, deliberate process of assimilation. 4 Chapter 1 THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK 1.1 Origin and Development of the Embodiment Concept: Phenomenology and “4E” Cognitive Science The philosophical tradition that investigated cognition in relation to the body begins with Edmund Husserl between the second half of the nineteenth century and the first two decades of the twentieth. Among the philosophers who positioned themselves in this tradition, called phenomenology, some of the most influential were Martin Heidegger, Maurice Merleau-Ponty and Jean-Paul Sartre.1 In Husserl’s phenomenology, kinesthesia is central to cognitive processes. Kinesthesia refers to how our sense of the external world is mediated by our body’s movement within the surrounding spaces. From a phenomenological perspective, then, awareness of our bodily position, posture, and movement is a key component of how we interpret reality and the world around us. How, then, does the awareness of our body and its movement inform musical practice and performance? In this chapter, I aim to outline the concept of embodiment as it has been developed in fields related to music learning and practice, and how it applies to instrumental, particularly flute, performance. One significant connection between pure philosophical speculation and its possible application in the domain of music field is represented by the work of Maurice Merleau-Ponty. Merleau-Ponty expanded upon the notion of the body as a crucial instrument of perception by delving into the concept of the “body schema,” which proves fundamental for the later development of music learning theories. Simply put, for Merleau-Ponty “body 1 Shaun Gallagher, “Phenomenology and Embodied Cognition,” in The Routledge Handbook of Embodied Cognition, ed. Lawrence Shapiro (New York: Routledge, 2017), 6. 5 schema” not only refers to how our bodies create meaning of the world through sensory experience, but also integrates movement as a crucial element of perception. In other words, we perceive the world as result of the interaction between our body and the surrounding objects thanks to motor habits that integrate movement and perception.2 As Merleau-Ponty puts it, our body is “a system of motor powers or perceptual powers” in which visual, tactile and motor aspects are inseparable.3 Multisensorial awareness, where various sensory inputs culminate in a unified sensing body, emphasizes movement as the central means of comprehending the world. Translating this idea to the music field means positing that the entire body, not just the intellect or the parts devoted to a given instrument’s operation, becomes actively engaged in the process of creating music. Moreover, Merleau-Ponty’s emphasis on movement recalls Émile Jaques-Dalcroze’s work in the field of music learning. Jaques-Dalcroze, a Swiss composer and educator, developed what he called “Eurhythmics”, an idea that emphasizes the central role of the body in music making and the involvement of the complete human being in comprehending music.4 This process goes beyond mere auditory perception and includes motor and tactile awareness as essential factors in making sense of music. Jaques-Dalcroze wanted “to seek the connection between instincts for pitch and movement, harmonies of tone and time-periods, time and energy, dynamics and space, music and character, music and temperament, finally the art of music and the art of dancing.”5 Thus, for Jaques-Dalcroze, the body is the primary tool that allows us to perceive the different elements of music, such as pitch, dynamics, and tempo among others, in a process that privileges bodily sensations and kinesthetic sense over the intellectual 2 Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception, ed. Donald A. Landes (New York: Routledge, 2012). 3 Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception, 155. 4 Émile Jaques-Dalcroze, Rhythm, Music, and Education, trans. Harold F. Rubenstein, 5th ed. (1921; repr. Geneva: Dalcroze Soc., 2000). 5 Jaques-Dalcroze, Rhythm, Music, and Education, X. 6 ability to memorize abstract concepts and analyze theoretical schemes. Jaques-Dalcroze stressed the development of the inner ear and the sense of rhythm through movement. He saw rhythm as intrinsically linked to limbs’ movement through walking, dancing, or clapping. It is the practical experience of moving while listening to music that makes learners physically aware of the beat, meter, and every subtlety occurring in the temporal structure of the piece.6 Jaques-Dalcroze devised a series of exercises to facilitate experiential awareness, aiming to unveil the inner structure of music. The most important were “plastique animée” and solfège exercises. The practice of “plastique animée” consists of bringing the musical score to life via choreography, allowing students to interpret the harmonic, temporal, and stylistic aspects of music through movement. Conversely, solfège exercises train students to consciously connect the written score with the resulting sounds, fostering a strong link between hearing, reading, and music result, particularly through singing. This method aims to develop the “inner ear,” alternating singing aloud and mentally, with the ultimate goal of forming mental imagery that can later be recalled during the music-making process.7 Jaques-Dalcroze’s approach dissolves the body/intellect binary in music learning, paving the way to developments and applications in the field of instrumental practice as well. Recent interdisciplinary development in music research, particularly in conjunction with neuroscience, allows for new affordances of the embodied approach. Notably, the development of “4E Cognitive Science” has deeply influenced the field of music cognition. The “4E” is an umbrella term encompassing the most recent developments in cognitive studies, emphasizing that cognition is embodied, embedded, extended, and enactive. This paradigm, shaped by the theory of “autopoiesis” developed by Humberto Maturana and 6 Jaques-Dalcroze, Rhythm, Music, and Education, 40. 7 Marja-Leena Juntunen, “The Dalcroze Approach: Experiencing and Knowing Music through the Embodied Exploration,” in Approaches to Teaching General Music: Methods, Issues, and Viewpoints, ed. Carlos R. Abril and Brent M. Gault (New York: Oxford Academic, 2016): 141-67. 7 Francisco Varela, along with Evan Thompson’s enactive perspective, highlights the tight connection between cognitive and biological processes, creating a model that integrates the body and the mind.8 In the 4E framework, the cognition process is characterized as follows: • Embodied: cognition processes involve brain and body equally; • Embedded: cognition takes place within the context of the subject’s interaction with the cultural, physical, and social aspects of the world; it is not an isolated event; • Extended: cognition is realized not only in the human mind but can be extended to other biological organs beyond the nervous system and also to non-biological devices; • Enactive: cognition arises from a reciprocal exchange between living beings and the environment they both inhabit and influence.9 In essence, the 4E cognition theory builds upon phenomenology to posit that humans not only learn by integrating their physical and mental faculties but also gain an understanding of the world and engage in cognitive processes through interactions with the external environment. 8 The notion of autopoiesis has been developed by Francisco Varela and Humberto Maturana in the field of theoretical biology. It proposes that a living system has the capacity to engender itself indefinitely, thanks to a process of self-regulation and beneficial exchanges with the external environment in which it is situated. The philosopher Evan Thompson extends the concept of autopoiesis from the realm of biology to that of cognitive sciences, providing a deeper exploration of the notion that cognition arises from the interaction of the embodied mind with the environment. This perspective, known as enactivism, rejects the idea of a pre-existing world that individuals merely need to discover. Instead, knowledge is generated through the active and conscious interaction between the subject and the environment, encompassing bodily sensations and movements. See Andrea Schiavio and Dylan van der Schyff, “4e Music Pedagogy and the Principles of Self Organization,” Behavioral Sciences 8, no. 8 (2018): 3-15; Evan Thompson, Mind in Life: Biology, Phenomenology, and the Sciences of Mind (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University, 2010), 157-62; Rodrigo Benevides Barbosa Gomes, “Perception and Enactivism in Merleau-Ponty and Francisco Varela/ Percepcao e Enativismo Em Merleau-Ponty e Francisco Varela,” Ekstasis (Rio De Janeiro) 7, no.1 (2018): 120 and 126. 9 Schiavio and van der Schyff, “4e Music Pedagogy,” 2. 8 1.2 The Embodied Mind in Music The “4E” cognition framework has proved particularly suitable to the context of music learning. The holistic perspective on cognition, developed within the embodied approach, provides music education with a new paradigm, emphasizing the importance of improvisation, collaboration, and creative expression.10 In particular, the application of autopoiesis to the context of music education suggests a departure from the idea that music learning should occur within the confines of the music room by means of a static process in which students passively absorb information from teachers in a one-way flow. Instead, an alternative model of music’s pedagogical practice emerges, in which learning music takes place within a social context where knowledge is shared and circulates among all agents involved. Furthermore, the emphasis on integrating body and mind opens the door to a more experiential approach to learning music concepts, encouraging experimentation over adherence to predefined rules, and exploring a given music-making space by noting the relationship between bodily movements and sonic outcomes.11 In the context of embodied music pedagogy, the environment with which the body actively engages can be seen as both the social and cultural context in which the learner is situated and the instrument with which they must interact. The musicologists and music psychologists Andrea Schiavio, Dylan van der Schyff, and David J. Elliott offer an example of how the 4E model can effectively be applied to music learning. They use the term “teleomusicality” to define a “creative process of exploration that begins with the sensing body’s perceptual openness to the world, its basic proclivity to reach out and make sense of the world.”12 The process implies the active role of 10 Schiavio and van der Schyff. “4e Music Pedagogy,” 2-3. 11 Schiavio and van der Schyff, “4e Music Pedagogy,” 7. 12 Dylan Van der Schyff, Andrea Schiavio and David J. Elliott, Musical Bodies, Musical Minds: Enactive Cognitive Science and the Meaning of Human Musicality (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2022), 182. 9 the body as a tool to mediate between the stimuli coming from the immediate environment—such as input from peers and teachers or the interaction with musical instruments—and the broader social and cultural environment.13 According to this model, the development of musical skills is the result of the combination of many factors, which eventually improves accuracy and fluidity of movement as well as the ability to cope with unexpected perturbances occurring in the musical environment. In this context, the musician explores the music-making process in ways that are related to “the body’s capacity to configure itself in relation to the instrument (which itself becomes an extension of the body).”14 As an example, these authors consider a beginner player who is learning a Mozart piano sonata. As they point out, the player’s learning process necessarily entails a physical engagement with the keys, determined by intentional gestures and sensory feedback (embodied cognition). This player would learn the piece “first and foremost through processes of sensorimotor exploration involving the interplay between the structural organization of her body, the dynamics and affordances of the environment, and the emotional/affective processes associated with regulating her corporal states.”15 Moreover, how the player approaches the instrument and music would be mediated by their culture and background, including identity, musical taste, and emotional life, among other domains (embedded cognition). A different perspective is offered by the music theorist Arnie Cox, who approaches the question of embodiment focusing particularly on the motor foundations of sound production. According to Cox, sounds inherently convey the physicality of their source, which highlights the importance of bodily gesture in music.16 Reproducing a sound, 13 Van der Schyff, Schiavio, and Elliott, Musical Bodies, 182. 14 Van der Schyff, Schiavio and Elliott, Musical Bodies, 184-6. 15 Schiavio and van der Schyff, “4e Music Pedagogy,” 8. 16 Arnie Cox, Music and Embodied Cognition: Listening, Moving, Feeling, and Thinking (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2016), 13. 10 therefore, primarily entails replicating the action responsible for producing that sound. As Cox writes, embodying music “begins in imitation of musical sounds and of the physical exertions that produce them.”17 Such imitation can be related to a motor action or a motor imagery. When imitation involves replicating a gesture, it is labeled Mimetic Motor Action (MMA), while when it replicates a mental representation of the action, it is called Mimetic Motor Imagery (MMI). Cox posits that it is not only the motor action itself but also its mental representation that determine a movement, as both are grounded in the same motor-related brain processes: “Musical imagery is partly motor imagery.”18 In sum, music is inherently linked to movement, and we learn it through the imitation of gestures, whether real or imagined. Thus, developing a mental representation of the movement associated with the desired sound helps initiate the motor processes required to produce that sound. From a performer’s perspective, Cox concept validates a novel learning tool—one that encompasses not only physical movement, as advocated by Jaques-Dalcroze, but also the mental representation of movement. For example, in the practical context of learning difficult rhythms, a performer can choose either to embody them through physical movement or simply imagine their motor realization, both aiding the performer’s rhythmic comprehension. Moreover, according to Cox, imitation is facilitated by multisensory information, as all the senses contribute to comprehending the action being imitated. He emphasizes that “mimetic comprehension is based on visual, auditory, and/or tactile information.”19 This is particularly significant if we consider that, according to Cox, we don’t only imitate the observable muscular movement responsible for the sound’s production, but also their 17 Cox, Music and Embodied Cognition, 11 (my emphasis). 18 Cox, Music and Embodied Cognition, 13. 19 Ibid. 11 invisible processes. As Cox points out, “for the visible portion of the relevant muscle movements, the imitation is by eye, and for the invisible portion the imitation is by ear,” as in the case of a sung sound.20 Taking the singing voice as an example, Cox considers it a fully embodied process, deeply embedded “within the flesh,” and thus providing a natural way to comprehend music “without having any direct experience playing the various musical instruments.” Voice also possesses significant mimetic qualities, as it is “capable of mimetically representing most if not all sounds.”21 This assumption makes the voice a powerful instrument of learning, especially for instruments like the flute, whose sound production technique has long been compared to singing. The findings of embodied cognition applied to the music context bear significant relevance to my research, highlighting two crucial aspects. One is the idea that learning is a multisensory experience and the other is the notion that the voice enables us to imitate processes that may not be visible but are essential to the task. The acknowledgment of the multisensory nature of sound imitation enhances the value of practice routines that extend beyond reading scores and replicating written models. It points towards a more integrated approach that encompasses tactile sensations, eye control, and verification of movements. This perspective also encourages a personalized approach, fostering a deeper exploration of instrumental practice and musicianship, while considering the unique qualities of each player. Furthermore, Cox’s reference to the voice as an embodied instrument par excellence, is crucial for my research. Indeed, a significant portion of my dissertation will investigate the relationship between flute technique and singing from an embodied perspective. These two techniques have often been compared, with many flutists regarding the singing voice as a model for flute playing. In the next chapter, I will assess whether this comparison is cogent 20 Cox, Music and Embodied Cognition, 26. 21 Cox, Music and Embodied Cognition, 29. 12 not only from an empirical point of view, but also from the physiological and acoustic standpoints, all within the paradigm of embodiment. Finally, the idea that sound imitation through voice involves covert processes, which occur mostly unconsciously, contributes to the discussion of the level of consciousness required by the performer to master a solid instrumental technique. I will summarize the main contributions of this discussion in the next section. 1.3 Expert Practice The debate on conscious versus unconscious practice, as well as skill acquisition, replicates the tension between the traditional vision that affirms the mind’s primacy over the body and the embodied model. This opposition is overcome in the newest studies that I have discussed earlier. The old position emphasizes that knowledge acquisition primarily occurs on a conceptual level, following a top-down mechanism in which learners first process new information intellectually and then transfer such information to their bodies. The new, embodied position emphasizes the engagement of the body’s sensations in a complex, non-top-down process. However, variation exists even among philosophers aligned with the embodied approach. In the rest of the chapter, I will review the contributions of a number of thinkers who are particularly relevant to my research because they address the challenge of skill acquisition in practice and performance. These philosophers include Hubert Dreyfus, Shaun Gallagher, John Sutton, and Richard Shusterman. One of Hubert Dreyfus’s most significant works is dedicated to skilled performance.22 According to Dreyfus, the learning pattern of a skilled performer encompasses several stages, characterized by different strategies of skills acquisition. These progressive stages allow 22 Hubert L. Dreyfus, “Overcoming the Myth of the Mental: How Philosophers Can Profit from the Phenomenology of Everyday Expertise,” Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical Association 79, no.2 (2005): 47-65. 13 performers to refine their skills and transition from a novice level to proficiency. In particular, a beginner’s practice is necessarily characterized by a rigid application of rules and protocols, as the student needs time to conceptualize how he should proceed. These rules act like “training wheels,” which the expert sets aside once they acquire the necessary skills to cope with the situation.23 The transition from consciously following the rules to unconscious practice allows space for a “holistic mode of experience”, in which the expert, drawing on their experience, can act in the moment, responding spontaneously to the ongoing situation.24 What Dreyfus intends by the word “experience” is the sum of all the situations in which, during years of training, the expert faced a specific challenge in a given task and reacted to it, sharpening his ability primarily thanks to doing and acting upon sensations. From the embodied point of view, “although many forms of expertise pass through a stage in which one needs reasons to guide action, after much involved experience, the learner develops a way of coping in which reasons play no role.”25 Put simply, if in the first stages of skills acquisition the novice necessarily follows the rules, progressively they become unconscious of them and they are eventually able to act effectively in the moment, upon an holistic experience based on the internalization of bodily actions, in which spontaneity prevails on the mind’s control. The mindless performative stage reached by the expert closely resembles what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls “flow,” the optimal state of mind to achieve the maximum result while feeling no effort.26 In contrast to Dreyfus’s conception of expertise, Shaun Gallagher argues that skilled performance is not mindless; instead, he supports Merleau-Ponty idea of an “embodied mind”, were “mind and reason are not excluded from movement or performance, but 23 Dreyfus, “Overcoming the Myth of the Mental,” 52. 24 Ibid. 25 Dreyfus, “Overcoming the Myth of the Mental,” 53. 26 Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Psychology of Happiness (London: Rider, 2002). 14 redefined as the expression of an embodied intelligence.” 27 Moving from the belief that different kinds of “mindful self-awareness practices” exist, Gallagher strives to find a middle ground by hypothesizing that expert performance is a balance between self-awareness and a certain degree of automatism.28 In support of this perspective, he references the work of other thinkers on the topic, including John Sutton and Richard Shusterman.29 Sutton’s work on athletic performance proposes a model of skillful performance in which experts do not function entirely on automaticity. Instead, through extensive training in developing body-schematic control, they attain a level of expertise that enable them to adapt learnt skills to changing situations in the moment.30 In the realm of music, this scenario might apply to a performer who must adjust their musical performance nightly to accommodate the changing venue, audience, conductor’s gestures, and other potentially shifting elements. With regard to adaptability in performance, Richard Shusterman argues that a deep consciousness of bodily processes can help the performer improve their skills. He contends that the explicit perception of our body’s movement in the surrounding space – “kinesthetic feeling” – plays a crucial role in the performing outcome. Important factors in kinesthetic feeling include the visual perception of our body and its parts, their alignment with our posture and the surrounding environment, and the awareness of breathing and muscular tension. Shusterman identifies different levels of consciousness in perception, one of which, “somaesthetic self-consciousness,” is particularly relevant to my research. Shusterman illustrates this concept using the example of breathing: the deepest level of self-consciousness not only allows us to 27 Shaun Gallagher, Performance/Art: The Venetian Lectures, ed. Carlos Vara Sanchez (Milan: Mimesis International, 2021), 34. 28 Gallagher, Performance/Art, 35. 29 Gallagher, Performance/Art, 35-6. 30 John Sutton, Doris McIlwain, Wayne Christensen, and Andrew Geeves, “Applying Intelligence to the Reflexes: Embodied Skills and Habits between Dreyfus and Descartes,” Journal of the British Society for Phenomenology 42, no.1 (2011): 78-103. 15 be aware of how we are breathing but also to be conscious of “how our self-consciousness of breathing influences our ongoing breathing and attentive awareness and related feelings.”31 This idea can be readily applied to flute practice, since it stresses the need for a profound understanding of the breathing process to enable control during performance. Additionally, Shusterman references two practices of mindfulness, the Alexander Technique and Feldenkrais Method, as effective and beneficial means to bring habitual and unreflective behaviors into conscious critical reflection.32 Over the past twenty years, these approaches have gained widespread acceptance among musicians, particularly for their effectiveness in addressing postural issues. While the research I have summarized pertains to skilled performance in general, it can be effectively applied to the specific context of musical performance. This transferability is evident when considering that instrumental practice requires a complex blend of technical expertise, interpretation, and physical coordination. This blend includes understanding which parts of our body are involved in the process and how our body responds to both our instruments and internal and external stimuli. In the following section, I explore the practical application of these ideas to the realm of music practice and performance. 1.4 Embodied Musical Practice In what follows, I will transfer insights gained from cognitive theory to the realm of instrumental practice in music. While there is a wealth of research in the embodied approach within the field of cognitive theory, relative few studies have explored its application to the domain of music practicing. Among them, Linda Kaastra’s study on distributed cognition in 31 Richard Shusterman, Body Consciousness: A Philosophy of Mindfulness and Somaesthetics (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 55-6. 32 Shusterman, Body Consciousness, 63. 16 performance is especially useful. According to Kaastra, an instrumental practice that enables performers to grasp the musical meaning of what they are playing relies not solely on interpreting signs written in the musical score. Rather, it encompasses “multimodal sensory engagement, musical constraints of instruments and genres, and processes of coordination with [other players].”33 This multimodal sensory engagement, Kaastra observes, is closely linked to the role of bodily image schemata and physical motion.34 Indeed, movement regulation and muscle memory play pivotal roles in instrumental practice, as Kaastra describes citing the research of John Bailey and Peter Driver. According to their findings, “musical patterns are remembered and executed not solely as aural patterns but also as sequences of movements”, suggesting that the music is processed on the cognitive level as a sequence of movements.35 Moreover, each instrument and music genre feature specific sets of gestures and movement patterns, tied to the physical characteristics of the instrument and performing style. In her research, Kaastra focuses on the bassoon, her instrument of expertise. By applying the concepts of music cognition to instrumental practice, she outlines a model of practice that incorporates multisensorial stimuli. In this process, Kaastra describes the practice as “embodied” when it is based on the awareness of processes that might normally be unconscious, such as the physiological functioning of breath and support.36 Bringing these processes into consciousness benefits the performer by granting them more control over their body’s functioning and offering new strategies to overcome instrumental challenges. This definition of embodied instrumental practice holds particular relevance to my research, which seeks to develop an embodied model for flute practice. 33 Linda T. Kaastra, Grounding the Analysis of Cognitive Processes in Music Performance: Distributed Cognition in Musical Activity (NewYork: Routledge, 2022), 1. 34 Kaastra, Grounding the Analysis of Cognitive Processes, 8. 35 John Baily and Peter Driver, “Spatio-Motor Thinking in Playing Folk Blues Guitar,” The World of Music 34, no. 3, (1992): 62. 36 Kaastra, Grounding the Analysis of Cognitive Processes, 31. 17 On the topic of the specific set of movements required by different instrument practices, John Baily and Peter Driver developed a performance model rooted in motor patterns unique to each instrument and genre. Referring to spatio-motor thinking in guitar playing, they advance the idea that the motor patterns related to a specific style constitute “the motor structure” of that style.37 For example, Bailey and Driver focus on blues guitar playing, where certain body postures and hand positions on the instrument constitute the basic elements of the motor structure of that style. The same approach can be applied to the flute practice. In this context, the bones of the motor structure could be the fingers’ micro-movements and internal sense of pulse, air-flow management and mouth shape perception, and expressive movements on stage. I will expand on these elements in Chapter 4, as I discuss my daily practice. A common concept shared by Bailey and Driver on the one hand and Kaastra on the other is the idea that performance can be “represented in terms of things you do.”38 Kaastra, in particular, links the origin of sound to the movements that produce it: “Movement is the home domain, sound its representation.”39 To illustrate, she addresses voice leading in guitar improvisation, describing how smooth voice leading results from efficient finger motion: “Voice leading is a matter of seeking conjunct motion between chord tones,” essentially meaning that it consists of “mov[ing] each voice the shortest distance possible.”40 The relationship between muscular actions and musical outcomes is obvious, but Kaastra radically derives the rules of counterpoint from the physical characteristics of the instrument itself, pointing out that “movement between the chords is a function of spatial logic on the guitar, 37 Baily and Driver, “Spatio-Motor Thinking in Playing Folk Blues Guitar,” 63. 38 Baily and Driver, “Spatio-Motor Thinking in Playing Folk Blues Guitar,” 69. 39 Kaastra, Grounding the Analysis of Cognitive Processes, 83. 40 Ibid. 18 not an internal musical logic.”41 Following this thread of thought, Kaastra concludes that performers learn through practice a whole set of musical events related to gestures. This collection of gestures essentially forms a sort of action notation that “makes some performance processes easier and more fluid.”42 Viewing music scores from Kaastra’s perspective, they appear as notated representations of bodily actions. Applying Kaastra’s ideas to flute practice, the translation of bodily actions into notation becomes particularly evident when considering articulation marks. For example, articulation marks such as legato or staccato, as well as dots and accents placed above notes, correspond to distinct uses of the tongue, support, and airflow. This perspective is pertinent when exploring contemporary flute scores, as they often feature symbols directly referencing the bodily gestures required to employ specific extended techniques.43 A vivid example of embodying the written score comes from the research of Rosalinda Ridout and John Habron.44 Their study analyzes the learning strategies adopted by three different flutists when tackling the contemporary piece Unity Capsule (Brian Ferneyhough, 1976) through the lens of Jaques-Dalcroze’s principles of embodied practice. In this study, one flutist applied one of the techniques inspired by Jaques-Dalcroze’s eurhythmics, which aims to disentangle the intricacy of elements that characterize a complex and multilayered musical score. Specifically, Ridout and Habron identified layers related to body parts: voice, fingers, air column, tongue. By dissociating each layer and developing specific skills for each task, this flutist was able to enhance their automatism and eventually overcome 41 Kaastra, Grounding the Analysis of Cognitive Processes, 84. 42 Kaastra, Grounding the Analysis of Cognitive Processes, 87. 43 For example, Salvatore Sciarrino’s composition “Venere che le grazie la fioriscono,” for solo flute, includes performance notes that provide a list of symbols representing the techniques required by the composer and instruction on how execute them. In the context, a diamond-shaped note represents a breath-tone sound, which is produced by “covering the entire mouthpiece with the lips and holding it between the teeth (without clenching) as far into the mouth as possible.” Salvatore Sciarrino, L’opera per Flauto (Milano: Ricordi, 1990). 44 Rosalind Ridout and John Habron, “Three Flute Players’ Lived Experiences of Dalcroze Eurhythmics in Preparing Contemporary Music for Performance,” Frontiers in Education 5, (February 2020): 18. 19 technical difficulties. This approach allowed the flutist to move beyond viewing the score as a mere collection of symbols and instead to relate each challenge to a specific action strategy for solving it. Another flutist familiarized themselves with complex rhythms and extended techniques through vocalization and rhythmic exercises performed away from the flute. The third flutist developed a choreography of movements for the difficult sections, as suggested by the Dalcrozean practice of “plastique animées,” which helped them remember the rhythm more effectively. With consistent practice, these bodily gestures related to the written music gradually transformed into mental images, eventually enabling them to replace the written score with a kinesthetic version of it.45 These positive outcomes of the embodied approach to music practice, which align with Kaastra’s positions, are challenged in the study on practice and performance conducted by psychologist Roger Chaffin and pianist Gabriela Imreh, which emphasizes the role of mental processes over the body in learning a musical work.46 Chaffin and Imreh’s research focuses on the process of practicing and memorizing the final movement of Bach’s “Italian Concerto” over a period of ten months. Throughout this period, they collected data on Imreh’s practice routines and provided commentary. Their conclusions seem to diminish the significance of motor skills in the learning of a musical work, challenging the notion of embodied practice by emphasizing the role of memory over muscular learning. In particular, they examine the mechanism of long-term working memory, which, they argue, played a pivotal role in mastering the piece. Chaffin and Imreh reference various types of memory involved in the task, with conceptual memory as the most important of them. Conceptual memory results from the analysis and acquisition of the music’s formal structure and 45 Ridout and Habron, “Three Flute Players’ Lived Experiences,” 6. 46 Roger Chaffin and Gabriela Imreh, “Practicing Perfection: Piano Performance as Expert Memory,” Psychological Science 13, no. 4 (2002): 342–9. 20 provides a “ready-made hierarchical organization that could conveniently serve as a retrieval scheme” and it is indispensable in preparation for the performance.47 Analyzing her own practice and learning routine, Imreh describes it as a process of acquiring ten different skills, which she calls “dimensions,” subdivided into four hierarchically organized groups. Among the basic dimensions to acquire, Imreh includes learning fingerings, technical difficulties, and familiar patterns of note such as scales, arpeggios, chords, and rhythms. On the second level, the pianist focuses on interpretive dimensions, including phrasing, dynamics, tempo, and pedalling. The third group involves performance skills related to the ability to control elements that are not entirely automatized and still require the performer’s attention during the performance. The most important element to acquire is a comprehensive understanding of the musical structure, including different sections, sub-sections, and transitions, or points where repetitions of the same theme diverge.48 In doing so, she affirms the prevailing role of the mind over automaticity. Imreh underscores the importance of a precise mental schema for what to focus on at specific moments during the performance. While practicing, she pays special attention to key spots, encompassing both basic and interpretive cues, that will still require attention during the performance, so that these spots may “come to mind automatically, along with their associated motor response.”49 In other words, building expertise in musical performance involves not only muscular learning but also a conceptual understanding of the work. Thanks to the mental representation developed through practice, the basic motor proficiency becomes a cognitive exercise that provides a reliable foundation during performance. In summary, Chaffin and Imreh suggest that, while basic practice skills are developed through muscular 47 Chaffin and Imreh, “Practicing Perfection,” 342. 48 Chaffin and Imreh, “Practicing Perfection,” 348. 49 Chaffin and Imreh, “Practicing Perfection,” 342. 21 learning, the advanced skills required for a performance demand meticulous control of mental processes, which take precedence over purely muscular ones. Challenging Chaffin and Imreh’s position, Andrew Geeves and his colleagues argue that performance cues stem exclusively from a highly hierarchically organized mental plan. They suggest that the strict hierarchy observed in Imreh’s performance dimensions may have emerged from elements she found difficult, which were then prioritized within the hierarchy. Hence, the hierarchy proposed by Chaffin and Imreh’s can not be validated, as it reflects a personal approach to that particular piece and is not generalizable. What Geeves proposes, instead, is that performance cues may vary according to genre and individuals, supporting the idea that even when an overarching musical structure results from a highly organized mental process, it remains adaptable to real-time modifications in response to live stimuli.50 Imreh and Chaffin’s emphasis on memory prompts an analysis of contributions on the relationship between memory and motor skills. Researchers in the field of memory have explained that memory, in its various types, is related to different brain areas and is triggered by sensory and motor activity. In their review of the current state of research in the field, Katinka Dijkstra and Rolf A. Zwaan point out a substantial body of studies claiming that motor skills and memory cannot exist independently. These studies underscore the close relationship between sensory-motor processes and memory-building mechanisms, which occur in different yet proximal brain areas.51 In particular, the most relevant contributions come from Antonio Damasio and David Rubin, as cited by Dijstra and Zwan. According to Damasio, the recall of a specific event occurs when the motor area, initially engaged during 50 Andrew Geeves, Wayne Christensen, John Sutton and Doris McIlwain, “Review of Practicing Perfection: Memory and Piano Performance,” Empirical Musicology Review 3, no. 3 (2008): 163-172. 51 Katinka Dijstra and Rolf A. Zwaan, “Memory and Action,” in The Routledge Handbook of Embodied Cognition, ed. Lawrence Shapiro (New York: Routledge, 2014), 297. 22 the event, is reactivated. This establishes a strong link between the motor and sensory systems and the encoding of memory, emphasizing that memory arises from the interplay of sensory and mental processes, such as vision, emotion, language, and motor system.52 Furthermore, Dijkstra and Zwaan argue that “motor fluency and expertise in complex motor movements may facilitate and enhance memory performance.”53 However, this enhancement in memory can also lead to errors. More precisely, mistakes occur “when motor fluency overrules decision-making processes.”54 On the same topic, researchers such as John Sutton and Kellie Williamson take slightly different positions. They point out that performers often recognize that certain forms of thinking can disrupt their performance, suggesting that a more confident reliance on the body’s memory alone is desirable. However, they clarify that “in different contexts, various forms of kinetic or kinesthetic awareness or circumspection allow for the ongoing monitoring of skillful performance.” This perspective suggests that even in embodied memory, it is difficult to clearly separate acting from thinking and to draw a strict line between body and mind.55 The challenge of determining whether the acquisition of fluid muscle movement is governed primarily by the mind or the body is illustrated in the work of the violin pedagogue Susan Kempter.56 In exploring teaching strategies that emphasize bodily awareness, Kempter highlights the importance of training the muscles before focusing exclusively on musical outcomes. She states that “Only when the body becomes comfortable and balanced, and movements become practically unconscious can music playing begin to be the primary focus 52 Ibid. 53 Dijistra and Zwan, “Memory and Action,” 298. 54 Ibid. 55 John Sutton and Kellie Williamson, “Embodied Remembering” in The Routledge Handbook of Embodied Cognition, ed. Lawrence Shapiro (New York: Routledge, 2014), 320. 56 Susan Kempter, How Muscles Learn: Teaching the Violin with the Body in Mind (Van Juys, CA: Alfred Publishing, 2003). 23 of the lesson.”57 Although Kempter acknowledges the circular nature of the learning process – where repetition and gradual refinement of movements are crucial for skill acquisition – she still advocates for a “top-down” approach, where the mind creates a mental template and instructs the muscles accordingly.58 Besides the different perspectives in the realm of embodied music practice, a central topic is the relationship between the performer and their instruments. The musicologist Marc Leman posits that a fundamental requirement for an embodied approach to music-making is the complete fusion between the musician and their instrument, where the instruments functions “as an extension of the human body.”59 This fusion is pivotal for achieving expressivity in musical performance, enabling the instrumentalist to convey musical meaning in a flexible and spontaneous way. This idea is exemplified by Rostropovich: There no longer exist relations between us. Some time also I lost my sense of the border between us…there I was – and my cello became just a red spot at my belly, like a dissected peritoneum. And actually, I feel it now in this manner, much like a singer seems to feel his vocal chords. I experience no difficulty in playing sounds. Indeed, I give no report to myself on how I speak. Just so, I play music, involuntarily. The cello is my tool no more.60 According to Music Education Professor Luc Nijis, the instrumental incorporation arises from the assimilation of movements and postures specific to an instrument, aligning with Kaastra’s approach to embodied instrumental practice. The process entails the internalization 57 Kempter, How Muscles Learn, 5. 58 Kempter, How Muscles Learn, 69-71. 59 Marc Leman, Embodied Music Cognition and Mediation Technology (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2008), 160-162. 60 Vladimir Chernov, “Mstislav Rostropovich: Citizen of the World, Man of Russia,” Ogon'ok, no. 8 (February 1994): 12; quoted in Vladimir P. Zinchenko, “Developing Activity Theory: The Zone of Proximal Development and Beyond,” in Context and Consciousness: Activity Theory and Human-Computer Interaction, ed. Bonnie A. Nardi (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1995), 296. 24 of body schemata that encompass the required gesture for a particular instrument, continually refining them. In Nijis words, the instrument’s incorporation happens “when instrument-specific posture and movements seamlessly integrate with the habitual movement repertoire of the musician to such a degree that playing the instrument does not feel unnatural.”61 The significance of movement analysis and awareness for motor-scheme learning is well recognized in the field of skill acquisition in sports, which provides a valuable model also for musical instrument practice, as I will outline in the next and last section. 1.5 Skill-Acquisition Strategies Derived from the Sport Field The training of musicians and athletes are both based in the continuous refinement of motor strategies for achieving optimal movement. Many ideas relevant to skill acquisition in sports are pertinent to music learning as well, including the repetitive practice of motor patterns under the monitoring of auditory and kinesthetic senses, to the point that musicians are sometimes defined as “small muscles athletes.”62 The following studies closely monitor the application of sport strategies in the music practice room from the standpoint of embodiment. In particular, Eckart Altenmuller and Christos I. Ioannou’s research highlights how both musicians and athletes need careful muscular training to guarantee healthy practice and avoid physical and mental injuries.63 The authors build on a model that looks at music-making as an integrated practice in which sounds are the sonic representation of movements. They note that musicians, during long years of training, learn to refine their sensory-motor schemes, thanks to the monitoring of auditory and kinesthetic senses. In particular, the kinesthetic sense has a 61 Luc Nijis, “The Merging of Musician and Musical Instrument,” in The Routledge Companion to Embodied Music Interaction, ed. Micheline Lesaffre, Pieter-Jan Maes and Marc Leman, 1st ed. (New York: Routledge, 2017), 53. 62 Eckart Altenmüller and Christos I. Ioannou, “Maladaptive Plasticity Induces Degradation of Fine Motor Skills in Musicians,” Zeitschrift für Psychologie 224, no. 2 (2016): 81. 63 Altenmüller and Christos, “Maladaptive Plasticity,” 80-90. 25 substantial role in high-level performance, since it provides continuous monitoring between the body and the instruments, so that even “subtle perturbations of this auditory feedback have a major impact on motor control.”64 Essentially, viewing music-making through the lens of sport aligns with the conclusions drawn from cognitive studies and musicians’ perspectives, emphasizing the centrality of the unity between movement, hearing and resulting sound. In the field of sport research, the relationship between kinesthetic feedback and motor program control has been explored by Laura Sperl and Rouwen Cañal-Bruland. Their study focuses on effective strategies to change an automatized movement from the perspective of error correction.65 According to the authors, the muscular mistake is often due to the overlapping of a new memory scheme with an existing one.66 To correct the mistake, an athlete needs to relearn a new bodily scheme. In this process, internal feedback is crucial to gain awareness of the wrong movement and adapt successful strategies to correct it.67 Among the most beneficial strategies to correct errors, Sperl and Cañal-Bruland introduce the Method of Amplification of Error which consists in making the mistake more evident, to increase the athlete’s awareness about the motor mistake he needs to correct.68 Another method is the so-called “Old way New way,” originally developed by Harry Lyndon, which is especially helpful when motor errors have become habitual. In this case, the correction of the mistake requires three different phases. The first consists of learning to recognize the problem, which means acquiring awareness of where the problem lies in terms of the ineffective action. It 64 Altenmüller and Christos, “Maladaptive Plasticity,” 80. 65 Laura Sperl and Rouwen Cañal-Bruland, “Changing Automatized Movement Patterns,” In Skill Acquisition in Sport: Research, Theory and Practice, ed. Nicola J. Hodges and A. Mark Williams, 3rd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2020), 20-38. 66 Sperl and Cañal-Bruland, “Changing Automatized Movement Patterns,” 25. 67 Sperl and Cañal-Bruland, “Changing Automatized Movement Patterns,” 28. 68 Ibid. 26 seems that errors are often highly automatized and thus difficult to recognize for the athletes themselves. In the second phase, the athlete learns to make a clear distinction between two ways to act, the old incorrect one and the new correct one. The third and last phase consists of learning how to perform the movement in a new way.69 A third method is the so-called “Five A” method, consisting of Analysis (understanding the need for a change), Awareness (calling the actual movement pattern into consciousness), Adjustment (modifying the wrong pattern also using mental and kinesthetic imageries), Automation (internalization of the changed aspects), and Assurance (promote an autonomous and robust motor skill).70 This method emphasizes the importance of maintaining awareness during movements that risk becoming overtly automated. In parallel with the musical practice, it can serve as a model to ensure that conscious control is maintained during the process of refining movements through multiple repetitions. As David Anderson and his colleagues have shown, the multisensorial awareness of our actions represents a fundamental tool for training our muscles to learn refined and precise skills, such as the ones required in sports and music-making.71 The constant feedback that provides a stream of continuous updates, going circularly from the external environment to the body, recalls the embodied approach that I have discussed above. In sports, sensory feedback includes all sorts of bodily sensations associated with a performed action, not only including kinesthetic feeling and auditory feedback but also sight. The parallel with music is so striking that Anderson and his team, in a study on motor skill acquisition in sports, report research made on visual feedback on violinists. This study stresses how the visual assessment of violinists’ neck muscles provided an improvement in task efficiency, minimizing 69 Sperl and Cañal-Bruland, “Changing Automatized Movement Patterns,” 29. 70 Sperl and Cañal-Bruland, “Changing Automatized Movement Patterns,” 31. 71 David I. Anderson, Richard A. Magill, Anthony M. Mayo, Kylie A. Steel, “Enhancing Motor Skill Acquisition with Augmented Feedback,” in Skill Acquisition in Sport: Research, Theory and Practice, ed. Nicola J. Hodges and A. Mark Williams, 3rd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2020), 3. 27 movement costs and reducing irrelevant movements.72 The research on sport skills acquisition thus reinforces a model of practice that stresses attention to multisensory feedback and to actions’ awareness, while offering valuable strategies to train the performer’s muscle to achieve proficiency in motor fluency. This literature review and the discussion of the current state of research in the embodiment field makes it clear that the embodied approach to music enables the integration of the instrument into the performer’s body schema, enhances awareness of internal processes, and consequently improves control and mastery of the instrument. This incorporation of the instrument into the performer’s body schemata allows to more freely express music, facilitating communication with the audience. This dissertation focuses on understanding how an embodied approach can facilitate the integration of the instrument into the flutist’s body schema, aiming to grant them greater freedom in their practice and enabling them to achieve their artistic goals. The objective is to identify practice strategies that enhance awareness of the processes underpinning flute sound production. In doing so, I will start by shedding light on the internal processes that are at the foundation of flute emission sound. Flutists have identified a practical way of navigating these complex internal processes by drawing comparisons between flute and singing techniques, as both “instruments” share similar basic tools. In the following chapter I will delve into the validity of this comparison and explore how singing, deeply rooted in the physical body, can indeed serve as a valuable model for an embodied flute practice. 72 Anderson, Magill, Mayo, and Steel, “Enhancing Motor Skill Acquisition with Augmented Feedback,” 10. 28 Chapter 2 PHYSIOLOGICAL PROCESSES IN SOUND PRODUCTION After examining the theoretical foundations of an embodied approach to instrumental practice in the previous chapter, the focus of this section is to enhance awareness of the internal processes of sound production. For what specifically concerns the flute practice, flutists have found a practical way to navigate the complex mechanisms of breathing and sound production by drawing parallels between flute playing and singing technique. This parallel derives from the observation that both singing and flute playing use the same raw material to produce the sound: air directly blown from the lungs. Compared to other wind instruments, moreover, the flute resembles singing due to its open embouchure, as it lacks a reed or a mouthpiece that regulates airflow. Because of this characteristic, flutists, like singers, rely solely on their bodies to manipulate the airflow for musical expression. Merely acknowledging the similarity between singing and flute playing is not enough to help flutists develop an effectively embodied practice. Embodiment does not automatically result from cognitive understanding. Instead, it requires a deliberate focus on developing deep awareness of one’s bodily processes involved in flute playing. As Linda Kaastra points out, this “internal” awareness is key to fostering embodied playing, which benefits both the flutist’s practice and the quality of their sound production. This chapter provides an explanation of the physiology of breathing mechanisms and voice sound production as a foundation to shed lights into covered processes. In the following chapter, I will apply these insights to a review of selected flute manuals and methods to verify the validity of the voice-flute parallelism and address specific questions related to flute practice. 29 2.1 The Breathing Process Breathing is a rather complex phenomenon, which responds to neurological impulses based on chemical exchange.73 Besides the lungs, the other organs involved in the exchange of gases essential to life are the trachea, the muscles of the chest wall and diaphragm, blood vessels and tissues that make the gas exchange possible, and the brain, which monitors the body’s need for oxygen and responds accordingly. The airways that carry air to the lungs are the mouth, the nasal cavities, the larynx, the trachea, and finally the bronchial tubes and the bronchioles. The basics of breathing consist of inhaling and exhaling. During inhalation, air enters the lungs, allowing oxygen to move from the lungs to the blood. During exhalation, the outgoing air expels carbon dioxide, a waste gas. When we breathe in, air enters our nose and/or mouth, passes into the trachea, which at its bottom separates into two bronchial tubes, then into smaller bronchioles. Finally, the bronchioles end in the alveoli, tiny air sacs where the gas exchange happens. Breathing involves a continuous flow of air, moving from the outside to the inside of our body and vice versa. This movement is driven by the difference between atmospheric pressure and lung pressure, which, in turn, results from changes in chest volume. During inspiration, the ribs are raised, creating more space for the lungs to enlarge, and reducing the air pressure within the alveoli below atmospheric pressure. This vacuum effect allows air to enter into the lungs. Conversely, during expiration, the chest and lung volume decreases, causing the air pressure within the alveoli to rise above atmospheric pressure, and forcing air out of the lungs. 73 Robert T. Sataloff, Yolanda D. Heman-Ackah, and Mary J. Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” Otolaryngologic Clinics of North America 40, no. 5 (2007): 909-929, here at 924-925. The description of the breathing process provided in the paragraph is based on what is reported in this source. 30 This process repeats during each respiratory cycle, where changes in lung volume cause pressure differences and facilitate the flow of air in or out of the lungs. These pressure fluctuations, determined by lungs’ cycles of expansion and contraction, are facilitated by the muscular action of the chest and abdomen. More specifically, the variations in the rib cage volume are the result of the combined action of the intercostal muscles and diaphragm. The diaphragm, in particular, plays a central role in this process and requires special attention, since its function in the breathing process has been misunderstood for a long time.74 The diaphragm is a dome-shaped muscle positioned between the abdominal cavity and the chest. Its primary function is to assist inhalation. When the diaphragm contracts, it flattens, lowering the floor of the rib cage and enabling the lungs to expand in volume. This action also pushes the abdominal contents downward, causing the abdominal wall to move outward. The muscles in the abdominal wall help the diaphragm return to its resting position, reducing the volume of the lungs. The intercostal muscles are classified into two main groups based on their primary roles in the breathing mechanism: inspiratory and expiratory intercostal muscles. Inspiratory intercostal muscles contribute to rib cage expansion when they contract, while the contraction of expiratory intercostal muscles leads to a reduction in rib cage volume. When the inspiratory intercostals contract to their maximum extent, the rib cage naturally seeks to return to its non-expanded volume, creating a passive expiratory force. Conversely, when the expiratory intercostal muscles are activated and fully contract, a passive inspiratory force is generated. The balancing of these two forces is referred to as FRC (functional residual 74 As I will explain in the next chapter, the diaphragm was commonly believed to be responsible for sound support. Research on physiology and musical instruments, however, has shown that the chest muscles are actually responsible for this function. 31 capacity), representing the volume of air in the lungs when the inspiratory and expiratory forces are equitable.75 To sum up, the breathing process relies on a delicate interplay of muscles and active and passive forces, all working in harmony with the lungs' volume. The passive exhalation forces of the intercostal muscles are influenced by the amount of air contained in the lungs. When the lungs are filled with a substantial amount of air, the passive exhalation force increases, generating higher pressure. Conversely, as the lungs’ volume decreases and passive forces become insufficient to expel residual air, the exhalation muscles come into play.76 The process of breathing is largely unconscious during our daily lives. Typically, expiration is a passive and automated process. On certain occasions, such as during phonation, singing, or playing musical instruments, expiration transitions from a “passive” state to an “active” state. Hence, understanding the complexities of breathing and the coordination between muscles and forces enhances our awareness of this fundamental bodily function, allowing us to acquire conscious and effective control of sound production.77 2.2 Sound Production in Voice When speaking or singing, the air expelled from the lungs is used for the phonation process. The more professional the use of the voice is, the more important the awareness of the processes behind voice production becomes. The production of sound involves the interaction of three distinct agents: the power source, which mainly comprises the lungs, abdominal 75 Johan Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, (DeKalb, Illinois: Northern Illinois University Press,1987), 27. 76 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 28-9. 77 Sataloff, Heman-Ackah, and Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” 909-29. 32 muscles and diaphragm; the oscillator, which is the larynx and the vocal folds; and the resonator, encompassing the mouth and nasal cavities.78 Having extensively covered the characteristics of the power source in the previous paragraph, let us now focus on the oscillator, which primarily involves the larynx. The larynx houses the vocal folds, which play the central role in voice production. The anatomy of the larynx and its surrounding region is highly complex. For the purposes of this dissertation, I will briefly introduce the main elements of laryngeal anatomy: the thyroid cartilage, the cricoid cartilage, and the two arytenoid cartilages, which together form the laryngeal skeleton. Within the larynx we find the glottis, the space located between the vocal folds, which is constituted by two flaps of tissues. The larynx is also closely connected with the pharynx. When the larynx lowers, the pharynx increases in length, causing an extension of the vocal tract.79 The latter mainly functions as a resonator, encompassing the area from the mouth opening to the trachea, where the sound undergoes additional shaping and resonance.80 Sound production occurs when air from the lungs reaches the glottis, causing the vocal folds to vibrate in response to the airflow. This results in the characteristic buzzing sound that forms the foundation of the voice. During this process, the vocal folds are in an abduction state, allowing small bursts of air to escape between them, and creating a vibration similar to that of buzzing lips. When vocal folds vibrate, they abduct and adduct in a continuous process of opening and closing. This process happens several hundred times per second when we sing, and is activated thanks to the Bernoulli force.81 The continuous 78 Sataloff, Heman-Ackah, and Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” 909-29. 79 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 120. 80 Sataloff, Heman-Ackah, and Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” 909-29. 81 The Bernoulli force is activated when an object prevents a fluid from freely streaming, causing certain layers of the fluid to travel a longer distance than others. In the case of the airstream passing through the glottis, its narrow shape acts as an obstacle, generating the Bernoulli force. Passing through the glottal slit, the airstream’s middle layers travel undisturbed, while the lateral layers, deflected by the vocal folds, travel a longer distance. The longer travel distance increases the speed of the lateral layers compared to the middle layers, creating a pressure difference. The resulting underpressure, which exerts a “sucking” effect, pulls the vocal folds toward 33 solicitation of the air passing through the open glottis and the consequent activation of Bernoulli force determine the vocal folds’ opening-closing mechanisms that is responsible for sound production. Furthermore, arytenoids and cricoarytenoids muscles contribute to adjusting the glottal width so that the vocal folds can vibrate. The frequency at which the vocal folds open and close within a specific time frame determines the pitch of the voice. More precisely, the frequency of a sung sound (which is measured in Hertz, Hz) indicates how many times the vocal folds open and close per second.82 Although the initial sound resembles a buzz, it already contains a complete set of harmonic partials that will be further filtered and amplified in the vocal tract. Similarly to what occurs during breathing in our daily life, sound production also happens unconsciously. When we sing, however, we need to be conscious of – and actively control – the involved parts, coordinating the different phases of the process as they directly impact sound quality.83 In particular, we can modify the sounds we produce by controlling the airflow at two key levels: the oscillator, as explained in this section, and the vocal tract, as I will discuss in the following section. By understanding and manipulating the airflow during both stages, we can influence the characteristics of the sound we produce, allowing for a nuanced and controlled vocal output. One of the key skills that a singer must develop is the control of the airflow generated by the power source, commonly referred to as “support.” This skill aims to produce a consistent and powerful column of air for effective vocal production.84 Singers often refer to this support mechanism as involving the diaphragm. The function of the diaphragm in each other, initiating phonation. This cycle repeats with each airstream entering the glottis. See Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 13. 82 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 11. 83 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 48. 84 Valerie Trollinger and Robert T. Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 1,” Journal of Singing 76, no.2 (2019): 172. 34 singing, however, is complex and can vary among singers.85 Moreover, even if the exact understanding of the anatomy of support in relation to voice production is not fully elucidated, scientific studies indicate that the constant airflow is mainly generated by the abdominal muscles, which contribute to generate support for the airflow during the active expiration phase. As discussed in the preceding paragraph, various abdominal organs participate in the breathing process, generating both passive and active forces. During quiet respiration, expiration is primarily passive, driven by the lungs and rib cage returning to their rest position, causing the expulsion of air. During singing, expiration becomes active, engaging the muscles responsible for support. Among the muscles involved in active expiration, the diaphragm does not play a fundamental role, as it primarily serves as an inspiratory organ. Therefore, the diaphragm is not responsible for active expiration. Instead, this role is fulfilled by the internal and external oblique muscles and the rectus abdominis. The external oblique muscles play a crucial role in support, contributing to maintaining a constant and efficient inspiratory-expiratory mechanism.86 Apart from mastering how to support airflow, a singer needs to learn how to control and adjust pressure and amplification of the air column, as these two factors play a significant role in determining sound loudness and pitch. I will start with loudness, the intensity of a sound’s dynamic level. Various factors contribute to sound loudness, including subglottic pressure, glottal resistance, and the amplitude of vocal folds displacement during each vibratory cycle.87 Subglottic pressure is the pressure that builds below the vocal folds and depends both on the quantity of air in the lungs and on the passive recoil forces generated by 85 Sataloff, Heman-Ackah, and Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” 920. 86 Sataloff, Heman-Ackah, and Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” 921. 87 Sataloff, Heman-Ackah, and Hawkshaw, “Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Voice,” 923. 35 the diaphragm, as explained by the mechanics of breathing summarized above and by Sundberg in the following passage: When the abdominal muscles contract after inspiration, the air pressure in the lungs, or the subglottic pressure, is raised. How much it raises depends on the degree of contraction and also on the resistance against airflow provided by the glottis.88 Another key element that influences subglottic pressure is the glottal resistance. The term refers to the level of resistance the airflow encounters in the glottis region, a level that changes according to the degree of adduction of the laryngeal muscles. The glottal resistance can vary significantly, affecting the quality of the sound. When there is an increase in glottal adduction, leading to a subsequent rise in glottal resistance, the resulting sound is perceived as “tense.” Conversely, if the glottal adduction decreases and glottal resistance is very low, the resulting sound is perceived as “breathy.”89 As I mentioned earlier, an increase in subglottic pressure leads to louder phonation. Higher subglottic pressure levels also correspond to higher frequency sounds, as I will describe later. The subglottic pressure and glottal resistance are linked to the activity of the abdominal muscles, in a way that requires the singer a control over those muscles as well: Hence an increase in the subglottic pressure, produced in order to sing a high or loud note, for instance, will exert an increase in the pressure of the abdominal wall. If the abdominal wall is not supposed to expand as soon as subglottic pressure is raised, then the muscular contraction of the abdominal wall must increase in synchronicity with the subglottic pressure: a singer would need to increase the contraction of the abdominal wall continuously with a continuously changing subglottic pressure.90 88 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 35. 89 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 39. 90 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 30. 36 Translating this knowledge of the physiology of voice production to the practice of singing, Sundberg observes that different singers and teachers may employ various strategies to control the action of the abdominal wall. Some singers prefer the “belly in” method, which consists in stretching the expiratory intercostal muscles and diaphragm, enabling them to be efficiently recruited for promptly increasing subglottic pressure. Conversely, other singers may opt for the opposite approach, performing a “belly out” movement, often combined with an elevated and outward positioning of the rib cage wall. This strategy offers the same advantage as the “belly in” since it also involves stretching the intercostal muscles and the abdominal wall muscles.91 Pitch modification, instead, depends on the varying degree of vocal folds’ stretching. The frequency of a sound is primarily controlled by the laryngeal muscles, which regulate the shape of the vocal folds. The tension of the vocal folds is achieved through the contraction of the cricothyroid muscles. When the gap between the anterior part of the thyroid and the cricoid cartilage narrows, the frequency of the sound increases, resulting in a higher pitch. As the vocal folds lengthen and tighten, the sound frequency increases: the longer and tighter they become, the higher the pitch of the sound. Additionally, when the phonation frequency is raised, the distance between the epiglottis and the arytenoid cartilages increases.92 As we will explore later, this change significantly impacts the shaping of the resonance cavities. Ultimately, the laryngeal area plays a crucial role in sound production, but its regulation is complex and also depends on proper air support. Therefore, achieving a balance between all the muscles and mechanisms involved in sound production is of utmost importance for good phonation. Nonetheless, there is another vital organ responsible for modifying airflow: the vocal tract. Its role in sound modification, particularly in altering the 91 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 31. 92 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 16. 37 resonance of the sound, is significant, as it transforms the buzz-like sound produced by the vocal folds into a voiced sound. 2.3 Acoustic Properties of the Vocal Tract When the buzz is created in the voice box, it contains a range of frequencies that are the sum of the fundamental frequency and its harmonics. Vocal folds vibration produces a fundamental frequency and many harmonics above it, all the way up to 5000Hz in the adult human vocal tract. What constitutes the resulting sound that we hear, however, is just a selection of those frequencies, manipulated by the function of the vocal tract. While the vocal folds act as the source of the sound, the vocal tract serves as a filter, attenuating certain frequencies while emphasizing others. Frequencies that align with the shape of the resonator are more readily transmitted, creating a resonance effect, according to the filter model of Gunnar Fant.93 That means that for a given shape of the resonator, there is a specific frequency that fits that resonator particularly well, and thus will be amplified more efficiently. Those frequencies, particularly well-suited to the resonator’s shape, are known as “formants.” In simpler terms, the vocal tract amplifies sounds that more effectively match its formant frequencies. The formants are also described as concentrating the peak of the sound, where the sound energy is more intense.94 The vocal tract can be shaped in different configurations, depending on the position of the articulators: larynx, velum, tongue, lips, and jaw, thus creating different resonance characteristics.95 The actions of the different articulators are strictly intertwined. Specifically, an increase in jaw opening corresponds to a widening of the mouth and a narrowing of the 93 Gunnar Fant, Speech Acoustics and Phonetics: Selected Writings, (Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2004), 43. 94 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 93-133. 95 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 96-7. 38 pharynx. The opening of the jaw is closely linked to both lip and tongue movements, where the bulging of the tongue can either augment or reduce the available space within the mouth. Finally, the larynx also contributes to shaping the vocal tract by assuming higher or lower positions, depending on the vowels we pronounce. Figures 1 and 2 illustrate the areas of the vocal tract shaped by the tongue and the pharynx, which connects the mouth to the trachea and houses the larynx and vocal folds.96 By moving the articulators, we can thus change the area they shape and consequently the frequencies that constitute the formants.97 As a general rule, a longer vocal tract is associated with a lower formant frequency. As for the specific shapes of the articulators in relation to their formants, a movement of any articulator generally affects the frequencies of all formants.98 Fig. 1 and 2. Vocal tract areas influenced by the shapes of the tongue and pharynx, modified from “How language works”, https://socialsci.libretexts.org/Bookshelves/Linguistics/How_Language_Works_(Gasser)/03%3A_Word_Forms_-_Units/3.03%3A_Vowels_(Part_1) 96 Michael Gasser, How Language Works, (Indiana University Edition, 2020), chap. 3.3. Vowels, https://socialsci.libretexts.org/Bookshelves/Linguistics/How_Language_Works_(Gasser)/03%3A_Word_Forms_-_Units/3.03%3A_Vowels_(Part_1) 97 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 93. 98 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice 27. 39 Laurel Irene and David Harris have explained the interactions between formants and vocal tract shapes in a clear model.99 As shown in fig. 3, we can imagine the vocal tract as formed by two “containers,” a longitudinal one, extending from the hump of the tongue to the tip of the lips, and a vertical one, encompassing the region from the top of the larynx to the hump of the tongue.100 These two air containers vibrate at specific frequencies: the frequency that vibrates in Container 1 is called Formant 1, and the one that vibrates in Container 2 is called Formant 2. Depending on different movements of the jaw, lips, tongue, and pharynx, the shape of the two containers changes and consequently so does the frequency of the formants that resonate within them. For example, when the tongue moves forward, Container 1 (located behind the tongue) enlarges, and Container 2 (located in front of the tongue) shrinks: the frequency of Formant 1 lowers, while the frequency of Formant 2 rises. Fig. 3. Air containers in the vocal tract, modified from “How language works”, https://socialsci.libretexts.org/Bookshelves/Linguistics/How_Language_Works_(Gasser)/03%3A_Word_Forms_-_Units/3.03%3A_Vowels_(Part_1) 99 Laurel Irene and David Harris, “Voice Science Works,” Harmonics VS. Formants, https://www.voicescienceworks.org/harmonics-vs-formants.html. 100 The sound’s formants are complex and numerous. Here, I focus on the two main formants, following the model proposed by Irene and Harris. See Irene and Harris, “Voice Science Works,” Harmonics VS. Formants. 40 If the pharynx narrows, Container 1 (located behind the tongue) diminishes in size, resulting in a higher pitch for formant 1. When the pharynx is neutral or “open,” Container 1 (behind the tongue) remains large, producing a lower pitch. More in detail, the first formant is very sensitive to jaw openings, the second depends on the tongue’s movement, the third on the tongue’s tip, while the fourth formant depends on the shape of the larynx itself. 101 For instance, adjusting the jaw opening can emphasize the lower formant of a sound, which is directly influenced by the jaw’s position. What has been explained so far implies that by altering the shapes of the vocal tract, we can effectively modify the acoustic characteristics of a sound, adding an additional tool to our possibilities to control sound quality on top of those offered by air-flow management. In particular, a practical tool to modify the vocal tract shape without delving in the technicalities of the resonators’ movement is to leverage the acoustic properties of vowels. By definition, vowels are distinct sounds produced by the various shapes that the vocal tract can take. According to the prevailing theory of vowel acoustics, the general sound produced by the vocal folds is transformed into a specific vowel sound by the resonance of the vocal tract. The specific resonance is determined by the articulators shaping the vocal tract in the ways described above and recognizable as different vowels.102 Scientific studies on the singing voice and the acoustics of vowels have revealed the link between the shapes of the vocal tract and vowel quality.103 Different vowels contribute to the shortening or elongating of the vocal tract, as shown in fig. 4. The image below shows that different vowels are associated with different larynx positions and lips apertures: the larynx is raised with vowels pronounced with spread lips, such as /i/, and lowered for vowels 101 The frequency of each formant can vary according to genre and age. According to Sundberg, in male adults the frequency of the first formant can vary between 250 and 1000 Hz, the second between 600 and 2500, the third between 1700 and 3500 Hz (Sundberg, 22-3, 102). 102 Dieter Maurer, Acoustics of the Vowel, (Bern: Peter Lang, 2016), 14. 103 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 97. 41 pronounced with rounded lips, such as /u:/.104 As the figure shows in relation to the vowel for “heed,” /i:/, the part of the vocal tract behind the tongue (Container 1) is large, whereas the part in front of the tongue (Container 2) is narrow. To these positions of the two air containers correspond a low pitch of Formant 1 and a high pitch of Formant 2. Conversely, if we consider the vowel for “who’d,” /u:/, the part of the vocal tract behind the tongue (Container 1) is large, exactly as the part in front of the tongue (Container 2). These positions of the two air containers correspond a low pitch of Formant 1 and a low pitch of Formant 2. The table in fig. 5 shows the differences in the formants’ frequency according to the different vowels. Fig. 4. Vocal tract shapes according to different vowels, from “Voice Science Works”, Harmonics VS. Formants, http://www.voicescienceworks.org/harmonics-vs-formants.html. 104 In a more precise way, if we need to give more prominence to the first formant, we should rely on the vowels /ae:/ and /a:/, while the increase in the second formant frequency is greatest for the vowels /e:/, /i:/ and /y:/ (See Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 114-5). 42 In conclusion, in singing we can accentuate different formants, and thus give prominence to a specific frequency of the sound spectrum, by shaping the mouth according to the chosen vowel. This relationship between vowel shape and formants is also consequential for timbre (or “sound color”). As is well-known, timbre depends on the relative prominence of a sound’s multiple frequencies (the fundamental and the harmonics). Because certain vowels highlight certain frequencies (formants), vowel modification serves as a tool for timbral adjustment. In fact, as Sundberg writes, “a change in the larynx height changes the vocal tract length, and hence the formant frequencies.”105 Fig. 5. Formants’ frequency of vowels, from https://corpus.eduhk.hk/english_pronunciation/index.php/2-2-formants-of-vowels/. Professional singers are widely aware of the acoustic properties of the vowels, utilizing them to enhance voice resonance and speech clarity. As the voice pedagogue Virginia Morrow observes, “the resonance chambers of the vocal instrument are immediately re-shaped so that one hears optimum amplification of the basic sound; one 105 Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 113-4. 43 has greater volume and potential for dynamic variation, and one has improved intonation and greater ease of production.”106 Singers have great mobility in the use of articulators and know how to manipulate the voice organs in relation to the desired musical result.107 The analysis of breathing mechanisms and sound production in singing conducted in this chapter highlights the intricate nature of these processes. While the inherent embodiment of the physiological components of singing is undeniable, a performer must maintain a distinct awareness of these components to effectively harness the full range of bodily tools for their artistic aim. Both conscious understanding and attuned proprioception are essential for achieving a sound result that aligns with the performer’s musical intentions. In particular, performers need a conscious use of the abdominal muscles for optimal breathing control and of the mobility of resonators for efficient timbral modification. For what concerns flute practice, establishing parallels between the singing voice and the flute offers the potential to develop a natural and spontaneous approach to sound production with the instrument. First, however, one needs a rigorous investigation of the physiological processes occurring in the flutist’s body during playing. To this end, the next chapter will examine how flutists and flute pedagogues have addressed the interplay between singing and flute playing, drawing examples from well-known flute methods and adding my own insights. 106 Virginia Morrow, “The Significance of Recognition of the Vowel Core in the Teaching of Singing and in Vocal Rehabilitation,” The NATS Journal 44, no.3 (January-February 1988): 24-30. 107 Indeed, singers have to adjust the intrinsic formants of the vowels they sing with the phonation frequency of their individual vocal range. Each vowel in normal speech has a specific combination of formants frequencies. While singing, on the one hand the singer has to adapt their specific vocal range to the shape of vocal tract required by the vowels they sing. On the other hand, leveraging the resonance properties of vowels enhances the vocal energy and ensures that the voice is heard and transmitted more effectively. This phenomenon is referred as the “singer’s formant” and enables the singers to project their voice above the orchestral loudness: see Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice, 127-34; and William Ralph Bennett, The Science of Musical Sound, ed. Jr. Andrew C.H. Morrison, 1st ed. (Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2020), 295-6. 44 Chapter 3 COMPARISON BETWEEN SINGING AND FLUTE PLAYING Having analyzed the physiology of breathing and the voice’s production mechanism, in this chapter I outline the parallelism between singing and flute technique. Singing and flute playing are often compared, with the former serving as a model for many flutists and pedagogues. This chapter discusses the validity of such a comparison. I will examine the internal processes involved in breathing and sound production in flute playing, seeking commonalities with singing techniques. I will also conduct a concise literature review of prominent flute methods and manuals to explore how performers and pedagogues have perceived, analyzed, and debated the mechanisms for sound production in singing and flute playing through the evolution of flute technique. Finally, I will examine the findings of the relevant scientific research, aiming to understand the contributions of acoustics and laboratory studies in this field. From a purely empirical standpoint, the comparison between singing and flute playing is based on the most evident similarities between the two “instruments.” First, flutists and singers use the same raw material—air blown out from the lungs—to generate sound, establishing breathing as the foundation of sound production in both cases. Moreover, the flute’s open embouchure strengthens the parallel with singers. From an acoustic standpoint, the flute is nearly cylindrical and open to the outside air at both ends, setting it apart from other woodwind instruments like the oboe, clarinet, and bassoon, which have a mouthpiece with a reed that regulates air pressure and quantity. Similar to singers, flutists can rely only on the optimal use of physiological mechanisms, muscles, and organs involved in breathing and air emission in order to produce the sound. 45 3.1 Comparing Respiratory Mechanism and Sound Production in Singing and Wind Instruments In terms of respiratory behaviours, the flute has generally been studied as part of the broader family of wind instruments, all of which share similar mechanisms. One of the pioneering researchers who explored this topic from a scientific perspective was Arend Bouhuys, who wrote in this regard: The respiratory muscles help to generate most of the energy which goes into playing a horn. They act on the chest, which is for our purposes essentially an elastic bellows. When the chest (that is, the lungs in it) is full of air, the chest tends to collapse. Just try for yourself: inspire as far as you can, relax all muscles, and you expire with a sigh. Now try the opposite, which is more difficult to do: breathe out as far as you can. Now relax all muscles, and the air flows in. The resting position of the chest bellows is somewhere in between, roughly in the middle of the volume excursion range of the chest. The respiratory muscles have to work with or against these elastic forces, depending on what the chest volume is and what pressure we need to play the horn. If we first want no pressure at all, but just to breathe out very slowly, we breathe in as far as possible, and must then use considerable inspiratory force to keep the air from going out with a sigh. Again, try for yourself. Breathe in deeply, and let go very slowly. You have to "brake" your expiration, that is, you use inspiratory muscles to hold back, to keep the chest volume from decreasing too rapidly because of its own elasticity. When you continue, you reach a point where you are relaxed. Now continue to breathe out slowly, and you find that you now have to push with expiratory muscles to move the air out at the same slow rate.108 108 Arend Bouhuys, “Physiology and Musical Instruments,” Nature 221, no. 5187 (1969): 1199–1204. In the quoted passage, the author employs the term "horn" to indicate a pipe in which air is insufflated, so it refers in general to wind instruments. 46 The mechanisms described by Bouhuys are similar to those analyzed in the previous chapter on singing, involving complex coordination between expiratory and inspiratory muscles. Bouhuys observes that in wind instrument playing, as in singing or speaking, “a pressurized stream of air activates a reed, or a reed-like structure such as the larynx or the human lips,” meaning that the mechanism producing the air stream in singing and playing is the same.109 What differs is that, in singing, sound is produced by the larynx, while in wind instruments it is produced by the reed or mouthpiece, ultimately responsible for the acoustic features of the produced sound.110 Just as with voice production, Bouhuys notes that in wind playing, too, “support” is not based on the diaphragm as commonly believed. Rather, support is provided by muscles in the chest.111 In sum, Bouhuys draws a parallel between playing wind instruments and voice production in terms of breathing mechanisms, though he specifies that in wind instruments the sound production is mediated by mouthpiece, reeds, and lips. From a performance point of view, one of the first wind players to discuss breathing process and sound production in wind instruments was Arnold Jacobs, the legendary tuba player and father of the renowned North-American brass school. Jacobs never recorded his insights in writing, so the only available sources are notes taken by his students, interviews, and transcripts of his talks and lessons.112 Jacobs devoted a great portion of his musical research to investigate the physiological mechanisms of brass playing, such as the efficient use of the air needed to produce the sound and the working of breathing mechanism in relation to sound production. Even though he believed that the approach to music-making should 109 Bouhuys, “Physiology and Musical Instruments,” 1199. 110 Ibid. 111 Bouhuys, “Physiology and Musical Instruments,” 1203. 112 Brian Frederiksen, “Preface,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind, Kindle Edition (Gurnee: WindSong Press, 2012); M. Dee Stewart and Arnold Jacobs, Arnold Jacobs: The Legacy of a Master: The Personal and Pedagogical Recollections of Thirty-One of His Colleagues, Students, and Friends (Northfield: Instrumentalist Pub., 1987), iv-ix. 47 primarily focus on the musical element, avoiding an excess of theoretical information—which he labeled “paralysis by analysis”—his contributions reveal an early interest in a scientifically informed understanding of breathing mechanisms from the wind player’s perspective.113 Jacobs explored crucial aspects of brass practice, painstakingly analyzing his own practice and working closely with physicians.114 Jacobs delved into some of the most critical concepts for wind players in general, such as support, internal pressure, airflow, use of the throat, role of the diaphragm in emission and support, and also made frequent reference to singing technique. In particular, he warned against the danger of what he defined the “tight-gut method,” a traditional method taught to a whole generation of brass players consisting of slowing the exit of the air from the lungs through breath’s holding. This method consists in contracting the abdominal muscles and increasing internal air pressure by closing the throat. This action is the “Valsalva maneuver,” commonly employed for certain physiological activities in human life, such as childbirth or simply using the bathroom. Such a technique, however, is potentially dangerous and can even lead to a condition called “pelvic pressure syndrome.” Jacobs argues that this method applies undue strain on the abdominal muscles and throat, leading to higher pressure level than necessary for playing. This excessive pressure restricts the natural potential of the respiratory system: The throat must remain open. An open throat is a relaxed throat. The larynx contains the voice box and the associated musculature. It is used to close the air passageway when swallowing and when downward pressure is required as in the Valsalva maneuver used for childbirth and defecation, not for normal breathing or playing an instrument.115 113 Frederiksen, “Preface,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 114 Frederiksen, “The teacher, Philosophy of teaching,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 115 Frederiksen, “Physical Elements, Upper Respiratory,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 48 Instead, Jacobs wants players to use a more natural breathing approach, developing a healthier control of the air stream. With respect to the role of the diaphragm, Jacob warns against the misunderstanding of its function in breathing and sound production. As mentioned, Jacobs emphasizes that “support” depends on the action of chest and abdominal muscles.116 As he points out, “The blowing of the breath should be the support, not tension in the muscles of the body, but the movement of air that is required by the embouchure or reed.”117 As for airflow regulation, Jacobs notes that while, in singing, the larynx controls airflow, in playing brass instruments the task is performed by the combined action of the embouchure and lips: “Instead of vocal chords in the larynx, we have vocal chords in the larynx of the tuba, which is the embouchure.”118 While in wind instruments like the bassoon, the clarinet and the oboe, the function of regulating air flow is performed by the reed, which is the source of sound vibration, it is not clear what Jacob’s position is regarding the flute. He recognizes that the flute is an exception inside the wind family in terms of air flow management, because it lacks a reed and has an open embouchure; yet he does not draw a direct parallel between flute and singing.119 On the one hand, Jacobs asserts that singers use less air than any wind players, having to keep “a fairly sizable pressure at the laryngeal region,” because their “reed” is the throat.120 This observation could suggest a parallel with the flute, that also lacks any “external” reed. On the another hand, however, Jacobs states that the flute requires low mouth pressure and high rates of air flow, contrasting to what he 116 Stewart and Jacobs, Arnold Jacobs, 104-18. 117 Frederiksen, “Physical Elements, Diaphragm,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 118 Quoted in Brian Frederiksen, “Physical Elements, Lips,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind, Kindle Edition (Gurnee: WindSong Press, 2012). 119 Frederiksen, “Physical Elements, Lips,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 120 Stewart and Jacobs, Arnold Jacobs, 115. 49 affirmed for singing.121 Nonetheless, for Jacobs singing serves as a model for wind playing when it comes to timbral modification. Jacobs recommends the use of vowels as a means to change tone color, connecting it to the role of the tongue in shaping what he calls “airways.”122 Philip Farkas (1914–1992), an American horn player and a colleague of Jacobs, further explored the role of the diaphragm and the larynx's function as a valve to regulate airflow. While according to Jacobs the larynx should always stay open, assigning the function of regulating airflow to the embouchure, Farkas asserted that the glottis plays a fundamental role in controlling the exit of the air from the lungs in horn playing. This makes it an essential tool for controlled emission. According to Farkas: The diaphragm pressure needs something to lean on or push against. If there were no resistance somewhere between the lungs and the end of the horn bell, the least pressure put on the diaphragm would send the air rushing out of the lungs in one great, short burst. In attempting to avoid this effect, many players make their first mistake in the use of diaphragm. Instead of putting resistance somewhere in the air column, they leave it completely free and merely avoid that rush of air by putting little or no pressure on the diaphragm. This doles the air out more slowly of course, but because of the lack of muscular “grip” on the diaphragm, the air literally dribbles out and the result is a very uncontrolled, fluttery tone. This effect is particularly noticeable in pianissimo playing, when, because of this faulty method, the pressure has to be almost negligible.123 121 Frederiksen, “Instruments, Woodwinds,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 122 Frederiksen, “Physical Elements, Vowels,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 123 Philip Farkas, The Art of French Horn Playing: A Treatise on the Problems and Techniques of French Horn Playing (Evanston, Il: Summy-Birchard, 1956), 29. 50 Farkas’s reference to the larynx as a valve for regulating the airstream is specific to horn playing, yet this concept has also been applied more recently to flute playing, as I will discuss later. Jacobs and Farkas are revered as pivotal figures within the brass world, not only in North America but also internationally. Their teachings, however, have transcended brass instruments, influencing a broader spectrum of wind players. Their contributions in clarifying the processes of breathing and sound production reflect a first attempt from the performer’s standpoint to clarify what occurs inside the human body when playing a wind instrument. This effort extends beyond mere practice, expanding instrumental research to a comprehensive consideration of the processes underpinning effective breath-based technique. Moreover, their differing positions on airflow management and larynx function mirror a common debate among flutists, a topic I will address in the following section. 3.2 Flutists’ Perspectives Concerning flute practice in particular, I will summarize here how the concepts of breathing, support, and sound production have been analyzed in some of the most commonly adopted flute methods and manuals, with special attention to any discussion of parallels with singing. Sir James Galway (1939), one of the most influential and internationally renowned flutists with multiple accomplished students and a large audience, seems to have no doubt on the matter: Tone on the flute is directly related to singing—when warming up, a singer will use vowel sounds only, rather than words. Each of these vowels has, as well as a distinct sound, a different color, which the flute player can reproduce although he does not 51 make the actual sound. Bright colors are made by the more closed-up vowels said at the front of the mouth, dark colors by the vowels said at the back.124 Such an explicit parallel is not consistent across the flute pedagogical literature. Even among flutists who support such a parallel, opinions are largely divided. The debate essentially revolves around whether or not the laryngeal region actively contributes to sound production. Some assert that to take advantage of singing technique while playing, the throat must remain open and passive, while others argue that the larynx plays an active role in shaping the sound and needs to assume different degrees of aperture and closure. In both cases, the missing element is a comprehensive understanding of the physiological reasons why one position should be preferred over another. This lack of clarity extends to breathing processes, as the following review of common flute methods will reveal. One of the foundations of flute pedagogy, employed by teachers worldwide, is the Méthode complète de flûte, written by the founding fathers of the French flute school Claude Paul Taffanel (1844–1908) and Philippe Gaubert (1879–1941). First published in 1923, this method is still widely considered an essential tool in flute practice. The authors see the emission of air involved in playing the flute as regulated by the relation between the tension of the lips, the intensity of air flow, and the angle of airstream when it enters the lip plate on the headjoint.125 Their focus is on the embouchure and on the lips, considered as the main tool for dosing the exiting air and producing pitches at different octaves. Taffanel and Gaubert warn against using the jaw to modify airstream direction.126 In their treatise, the topic of breathing is approached exclusively from a musical perspective, stressing the importance of good breath to manage the quantity of air in relation to the length of a given musical 124 James Galway, Flute (London: Kahn & Averill, 2006), 97. 125 Claude Paul Taffanel and Philippe Gaubert, Méthode complète de flûte: en huit parties (Paris: Leduc, 1958), 6. 126 Taffanel and Gaubert, Méthode complète de flûte, 6-7. 52 phrase and personal lung capacity. The authors identify three kinds of breathing: deep, medium, and fast, each functional for a specific kind of phrasing and tempo. Taffanel and Gaubert suggest retaining air in the lungs as a reservoir, but they caution against holding it for too long, as the quality of air would decay after a long stay in the lungs.127 They do not provide guidance on how to breathe or regulate the air as it exits the lungs, focusing instead on purity of sound as the primary tool for achieving longer phrases. What should guide the flutist in mastering airflow and adapting it to phrasing is the musical style. Nonetheless, a deeper explication of the process is lacking, and there is only a brief reference to the lips’ aperture modification as a way to adjust tuning when performing a crescendo or diminuendo. In the whole method, there is no mention of singing technique, either as a way to explain breathing mechanism or as a tool to clarify sound emission. In another seminal work for flutists, De la sonorité, Art et technique by Marcel Moyse—whose influence reached the American continent thanks to his long stay in North America—the awareness of physiological mechanisms, both in breathing and sound emission, is also lacking. While Moyse’s prevalent focus remains on the embouchure, he elaborates on the role of the jaw, which he deems fundamental in regulating the angle between the lips and the flute and in controlling the direction of the airstream. According to Moyse, jaw adjustments allow the lips to vibrate freely and produce a variety of timbres and colours, just like an oboe’s reed.128 Even though Moyse notes the importance of good breathing, his method lacks further indications on how to breathe correctly. Like Taffanel and Gaubert, Moyse does not mention singing technique, not even in the last part of the book, devoted to tone management and interpretation. 127 Taffanel and Gaubert, Méthode complète de flûte, 47-8. 128 Marcel Moyse, De la sonorité: Art et technique (Paris: Leduc, 1934), 4. 53 One of the earliest references to singing technique as a model for flute playing comes from William Kincaid (1895–1967), who held the position of principal flute in the Philadelphia Orchestra from 1921 to 1960. Unfortunately, he did not collect his teaching in a method, and the only way to know his valuable contribution is through the reports by his students or by flutists who knew him. Among the latter is Kerry Elizabeth Walker’s dissertation, which analyzes Kincaid’s idea of resonance in flute technique. According to Walker, Kincaid frequently compared flute playing to singing, advocating for the use of different vowel sounds to create different resonances in the mouth.129 In doing so, he draws upon the science of vocal production and, more specifically, upon the vocalization techniques discussed in the previous chapter. Furthermore, Kincaid stressed the importance of considering the whole body as a resonator, thus expanding the sound production process to a physiological area beyond the mouth. The comparison with the voice is explicit: “To play loudly, open the mouth to create a big space between the teeth, as singers do.”130 For what concerns breathing and support, Kincaid’s indications are not very specific, as he suggests in a rather general way to support the air flow with the diaphragm and shape it—without squeezing it—with the lips.131 In contrast to the early sources reviewed so far, an author who systematically analyzes every aspect of flute technique is Trevor Wye (1935) in his Practice book series. A former student of Moyse, Wye reinforces and expands on ideas already examined in De la sonorité. He emphasizes the fundamental role of the joint action of lips and jaw in sound production, in regulating the airstream, and in maintaining the balance between air speed and volume. 129 Kerry Elizabeth Walker, “Cheek Inflation and Vowel Posture Techniques for the Flutist: The Exploration of a Kincaid Vision of Resonance made through Analogies to Vocal Pedagogy” (PhD diss., Texas Tech University, 1995), 9. 130 Elizabeth Churchville, “Nothing but Music,” Flute Talk 11 (February 1992): 10. Quoted in Walker, “Cheek Inflation and Vowel Posture Techniques for the Flutist,” 9. 131 John Krell, Kinkaidiana (Malibu: Trio, 1973), 5. Quoted in Walker, "Cheek Inflation and Vowel Posture Techniques for the Flutist,” 9. 54 Moreover, the jaw and lips work together to shape the angle of the airstream toward the flute’s headjoint, adjusting the pitch.132 Additionally, Wye presents the diaphragm as a relevant muscle in breath control and pays close attention to breathing mechanisms. Specifically, he focuses on the lung capacity and suggests exercises aimed at its development. Wye’s approach links the theoretical explanation of the breathing mechanism to performance practice, suggesting how to breathe and where to do it and proposing a set of examples drawn from the flute repertoire.133 Furthermore, he lists a few exercises for improving the quality of breathing, stressing the importance of keeping an open throat during air intake. Even if Wye’s perspective on breathing does not fully align with the reality of physiological processes, it represents the first significant attempt at understanding what happens inside the flutist’s body while playing. Regarding sound production, Wye emphasizes tone purity as a main goal but does not explain how to reach it, besides recommending constant work on tone refinement through practice and listening. At any rate, he stresses the need of differentiating sound colour according to keys and musical styles. In the last volume of his Practice book series, devoted to Advanced Technique, he highlights the role of the mouth cavities as a fundamental tool to enrich the flute’s timbral palette and shape sound’s resonance, inviting flutists to experiment with vowels and mouth cavities modifications while playing a sound.134 Even though Wye does not refer to singing techniques directly, his recognition of the role of mouth cavities and vocalization in sound production is important and constitutes a novelty (for that time, the 1980s) in flute pedagogy. 132 Trevor Wye, Practice Book for the Flute: Books 1-6. Book 1, Tone (London: Novello, 2014), 31, 39-40. 133 Wye, Practice Book for the Flute: Books 1-6. Book 5, Breathing and Scales, 156. 134 Wye, Practice Book for the Flute: Books 1-6. Book 6, Advanced Practice, 206. 55 Philippe Bernold explicitly compares singing and playing the flute in his books La technique d’embouchure and Le souffle, le son. In the foreword of La technique d’embouchure, Bernold laments the lack of published methods addressing embouchure and related issues, which he closely associates with airflow management, breathing, and support.135 In his method, singing serves as a guide for navigating sound production and breathing while playing the flute. Indeed, he labels the exercises in the first part of La technique d’embouchure as “Vocalises”. Here he recommends to keep an open throat and focus on inhalation while tensing the diaphragm to support the sounds. There is, however, no explanation on how to realize the suggested actions, nor a direct reference to singing. By contrast, the parallel becomes explicit in Le souffle, le son: “A singer would use more air and energy to sing higher pitches: the same applies to flute playing. In order to move from the lower to the medium register, and even more so to the higher register, the quantity of air should increase…”136 Furthermore, he invites the flutist “To play like a singer!,” a phrase that serves as subtitle for Chapter 4. More specifically, Bernold identifies “legato singing” as bridging the connection between the flute and the voice: Legato singing—the basis of a singer’s vocal and musical expression—results from the way the singer connects notes through breathing and breath control, making the sound flow from one pitch to another. It is probably the physical gesture needed to “sustain” the sound that affects the listener. One can notice how much intense emotional expression is used in the singing of wider intervals! Maybe musical expressivity lies “hidden” in intervals—in other words: the wider the interval, the more intense the expression!137 135 Philippe Bernold, La technique d'embouchure: 218 exercices pour maîtriser toutes les difficultés liées à l’embouchure de la flûte traversière et acquérir une belle sonorité, 4th ed. (Paris: La Stravaganza, Gérard Billaudot Editeur, 1988), 9. 136 Bernold, Le souffle, le son (Paris: Gérard Billaudot Editeur, 2016), 6. 137 Bernold, Le souffle, le son, 54. 56 What Bernold is suggesting here is attributing an intrinsically positive expressive quality to singing and to a flute practice molded on it. This proposition is crucial because for the first time it considers flute playing from a holistic point of view, embracing the physicality of sound production. From a strictly physiologically standpoint, however, Bernold does not elaborate further on how to realize breathing and airflow control, especially in relation to the role of the diaphragm. His discussion of the diaphragm is limited to a rather vague description of its function, lacking a more detailed examination of its physiological mechanisms. In La technique d’embouchure, Bernold briefly mentions the diaphragm, as follows: “by pushing the air into the bottom of the lungs, one gives oneself the means of regularising its supply (pressure and quantity) because the air is placed on the muscular membrane known as diaphragm, which may then function efficiently.”138 He also suggests tensing the diaphragm when passing from one note to another in the vocalises listed on the book.139 While lacking in-depth exploration of breathing mechanics, Bernold maintains the traditional pedagogical position on the embouchure, which assigns a central role in regulating the airstream to the lips. He illustrates the concept by employing a well-known metaphor among flutists—the gardening hose—to explain the change across registers. In flute playing, switching across registers requires the flutist to modify both the direction and pressure of the air directed onto the flute’s embouchure. If we need to water two flower beds, one close and one further, to reach the further flowerbed, we can choose between turning the tap to full capacity (with the risk of spilling too much water), reducing the water stream by closing the open end of the hose (with the risk of distributing an insufficient quantity of water) or, finally, giving more water and partially closing the hose’s open end, which is ultimately the 138 Bernold, La technique d’embouchure, 7. 139 Bernold, La technique d’embouchure, 3. 57 most successful choice. The further flowerbed represents the higher register, the quantity of water is the air blown out of the lungs, and the hose’s open end corresponds to the lips. In Bernold’s analogy, the recommended action is to “give a little more air by controlling the diaphragm while pursing the lips, and move the chin a little forward.”140 While not detailing how to control the diaphragm, this suggestion introduces the concept of a “valve” as a tool for regulating the airstream, recalling Farkas’s insights about horn playing. In contrast to Farkas, however, Bernold emphasizes the role of the lips, thereby reinforcing the position of traditional flute pedagogy. Exercises to master the breathing process through controlled practice are offered by Peter-Lukas Graf in his Check-up: 20 Basic Studies for Flutists.141 Graf does not analyze the breathing process from a physiological perspective; instead, he offers a set of studies suggesting actions to increase awareness of the body’s responses during inhalation, breath retention, and exhalation. Graf distinguishes between “abdominal breathing,” “total breathing,” and “economic breathing,” proposing a series of exercises to develop awareness of these different types of breathing. The first exercise, focused on abdominal breathing, helps the flutist to become aware of the involvement of the abdominal muscles and their role in providing support. Graf recommends blowing out the air into the flute until the lungs are empty, which allows the flutist to feel the contraction of the abdominals. After holding the breath without inhaling for a few seconds, the flutist can then relax the abdominal muscles and naturally experience the next inhalation. This process is considered a passive and entirely natural phase. The abdominal muscles will then return in a useful position for sustaining the next emission, an action that Graf defines as “support.”142 140 Bernold, Le souffle, le son, 73. 141 Peter-Lukas Graf, Check-up: 20 Basic Studies for Flutists (Mainz: Schott, 1991). 142 Graf, Check-up, 7. 58 The second exercise, designed for “total breathing,” requires a more conscious involvement of the rib cage. It involves deliberately expanding the rib cage after fully exhaling all the air contained in the lungs, without taking in fresh air through the mouth. This action pushes the abdominal wall inward for about two seconds. Subsequently, relaxing this tension leads to an intense inhalation, accompanied by the intake of a large amount of air directly into the lungs. This technique results in sound emission lasting significantly longer than in abdominal breathing.143 Finally, the third exercise is devoted to “economic breathing,” which involves experiencing rapid and frequent air intake, with the goal of gradually filling the lungs. During this breathing technique, the flutist should maintain an open rib cage, thus keeping the abdominal muscles constantly in the position of supporting the sound.144 In these exercises the breathing process is not explicitly explained from a physiological standpoint, but Graf provides a practical approach to proprioception of the muscles involved in the process. His exercises represent a first step toward awareness of what happens inside the body when the flutist breathes and produces the sound, demonstrating a certain degree of knowledge of the diaphragm and its function. With respect to comparing singing and flute practice, Graf is less explicit. Still, he introduces a technique in which the flutist must sing and play simultaneously: the flutist is asked to play a long tone while using the voice to sing a different (or the same) note. Although he does not explain the specific utility of this exercise, Graf mentions that the larynx should be relaxed. He suggests singing as if pronouncing an ö, allowing the tongue to be in a position useful to articulate.145 Graf does not provide further details on tongue 143 Graf, Check-up, 10. 144 Graf, Check-up, 12. 145 Graf, Check-up, 19. While suggesting the sound ö, Graf uses the pronunciation of the name “Schönberg” as an example, likely indicating a vowel pronounced with a lowered larynx. In the International Phonetic Alphabet, such a sound would correspond to a close-mid vowel, pronounced with a lowered larynx. See International 59 position, but his reference to the use of vowels directly recalls the use of vocalization in singing technique. Besides flute methods and books on instrumental practice, many recent handbooks written by flutists and pedagogues have explored extensively the technicalities of breathing and sound emission. Among them is The Flute Book by Nancy Toff, which dedicates an entire chapter to breathing.146 Toff employs accurate terminology and makes a clear distinction between the role of the diaphragm, abdominal muscles, and vocal tract. She also examines the role of the throat, recommending not to tighten the throat to prevent a strained sound.147 In the chapter devoted to tone, Toff analyzes the air column and the relationship between air speed, width, and length of the airstream, acknowledging the role of the mouth cavity in shaping the sound. In line with the teachings of flute masters such as Taffanel-Gaubert and Moyse, she emphasizes the prominent role of the embouchure. Michel Debost’s The Simple Flute brings together observations and perspectives from a long and wide-ranging career as solo performer and teacher.148 While the author’s primary recommendation is to prioritize music and its significance (emphasizing artistic outcomes over physiology), his grasp of physiological processes remains precise and reliable, offering valuable guidance for informed practice. Concerning breathing, Debost specifies that the diaphragm does not take an active role. Instead, it is the abdominal muscles, often mistaken as the diaphragm, that play a key role in the emission process. Furthermore, Debost believes that holding a large quantity of air is detrimental because it tends to make the attack of the sound explosive upon release. For this reason, he advises against systematically filling up the Phonetic Association, Handbook of the International Phonetic Association: A Guide to the Use of the International Phonetic Alphabet (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 12. 146 Nancy Toff, The Flute Book: A Complete Guide for Students and Performers, 3rd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 84-91. 147 Toff, The Flute Book, 87. 148 Michel Debost, The Simple Flute: An A to Z Guide (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002). 60 lungs and suggests using what he calls “middle breath.” By this term he means a more natural breath that does not reach the maximum lung capacity, and encourages taking short breaths in between articulation.149 Furthermore, Debost stresses the importance of air management, which he summarizes in three key concepts: “tenuto,” “sostenuto,” and “ritenuto.” With “tenuto,” he intends the stability of the flute on the chin, contributing to a stable and focused sound. “Sostenuto” refers to the support of the air blown out form the lungs, realized by the abdominal muscles (again, not to be confused with the diaphragm). Finally, “ritenuto” describes the action of the chest muscles, which resist thorax collapse during air emission.150 According to Debost, the ability to withhold the breath is crucial for saving air in order to play long musical phrases.151 Debost does not overtly discuss flute technique in relation to singing, other than recommending flutists to sing intervals mentally before fingering them. Additionally, in addressing posture, he emphasizes that the player’s body position should not be altered when taking a breath, just as in singing.152 When describing how to sustain a sound, Debost borrows a term from singing technique “appoggio,” which he prefers over “support.” According to Debost, the “appoggio” singing technique implies a conscious muscular action, an efficient way to manage the breath: It is a system of combining and balancing the action of the abdominal and chest muscles in the inhaling procedure as well as the dual phenomena of exhaling and sound production. The support of the abdominal muscles, without opposition, would lead to a rapid deflation of the lungs. The intercostal muscles (between the 149 Debost, The Simple Flute, 44-5. 150 Debost, The Simple Flute, 16. 151 Debost, The Simple Flute, 41. 152 Debost, The Simple Flute, 136, 186, quoting Richard Miller’s The Structure of Singing System and Art in Vocal Technique. 61 ribs) must counterbalance it. They actually prevent the collapse of the chest. Schematically, the singer or flutist’s effort is not to exhale, in order to achieve this inner balance. Once mastered, this equilibrium opens new horizons to the sound and feeling of bliss.153 In doing so, Debost clarifies the mechanics of emission, dismissing once and for all the term “diaphragm,” whose action is unconscious, and has been misunderstood and misused in flute pedagogy for decades. Moving away from a practice focused almost exclusively on external tools for controlling the airstream, such as the embouchure and the lips, Debost shifts the attention inward, giving prominence to an informed understanding of what happens inside the body while playing. Shifting the focus inward entails a closer analysis of the functions attributed to flutists under the rather general term “throat.” As examined in the previous chapter, in human physiology the laryngeal region is intricately complex. Its role in singing involves a sophisticated interaction among its constituent organs. Moreover, considering this complexity in the context of flute emission establishes a consistent parallel with singing, as both techniques involve the same anatomical area. Robert Dick and Giampaolo Pretto dedicate considerable space to compare flute and singing techniques, clearly speaking about the role of the throat in flute playing and proposing an innovative point of view on the topic. The North-American flutist Robert Dick, well-known for his experimental techniques, reshaped the musical possibilities of the instrument, creating new sonorities, and extending the flute’s possibilities far beyond its traditional role. In doing so, Dick has extensively examined the process of sound production in relation to the vocal tract, vocalization, and the use of the throat in flute playing. In his Tone Development through Extended Techniques, Dick presents a series of exercises aimed at enriching flute sound in terms of timbre and 153 Debost, The Simple Flute, 62. 62 colors.154 In particular, he introduces the concept of “throat tuning,” establishing a direct connection between flute emission and singing. Affirming that the flute sound is “a complex combination of the flutist and the flute,” he emphasizes the need to take advantage of the mouth cavities in order to enhance resonance and projection, and he suggests the use of singing as a useful tool: Then, prepare to sing! Before the note is sung, there is a change in the throat when the vocal chords are brought to the correct position to sing the pitch. When the vocal chords are held in position to sing a given pitch, the throat is in position to resonate that pitch best. […] Thus, this technique is equally applicable and effective for all flutists.155 Among the resonating cavities that both singers and flutists should rely on to project the sound, Dick lists the mouth, the neck, and the chest. In his view, the most useful way to shape the mouth cavities for amplifying the sound is through throat tuning, achieved by the active use of the vocal folds: Mastery of throat tuning is achieved by practice of singing and of simultaneously singing and playing the flute. . . When singing and playing together, the air speed is determined by the comfort of the vocal cords at all times! For those flutists who are reluctant to sing, I stress that singing and flute playing are acoustically so similar that is imperative to overcome this hesitation and begin.156 This technique enriches the flute sound palette and reinforces the core of the tone. The same conclusion about the role of the vocal tract in flute technique has been reached by the Italian flutist Giampaolo Pretto in his book Dentro il suono.157 According to 154 Robert Dick, Tone Development through Extended Techniques (New York: Multiple Breath, 1986). 155 Dick, Tone Development through Extended Techniques, 9. 156 Ibid. 157 Giampaolo Pretto, Dentro il suono (Roma: Riverberi Sonori, 2012). 63 Pretto, using the throat has several important outcomes. First, it promotes and improves the resonance of the sound, thanks to the properties of the vocal tract. Second, it functions as a valve, regulating the quantity of air blown out from the lungs and thus controlling the airstream.158 For Pretto, however, the laryngeal area is only one component of a system of “three points,” which also includes abdominal support and embouchure. The balanced interaction of these elements ensures optimal emission.159 To increase awareness and control of the three points, Pretto suggests a wide range of exercises, with a substantial portion of them based on the simultaneous production of voice and flute sound. With these exercises, Pretto aims to achieve a shift in tuning and timbre through the voice. In particular, Pretto directs his attention to what he calls “tonal color,” adjusting the micro-tuning of a sound according to its harmonic function. A specific exercise to clarify the concept of “tonal color” involves playing a sustained note while the voice sings arpeggios featuring the same note in its different tonal functions. For instance, when playing a sustained B4, the voice sings a B-major arpeggio (where B is the fundamental), an E-minor arpeggio (where B functions as the fifth), and so on. In each case, and adapting for each different interval, the voice automatically and intuitively adjusts the interval according to its harmonic function. When the voice stops, the throat retains the memorized posture for that particular interval. This retention not only enhances the flute’s sound but also imparts a unique timbre associated with the intended harmonic function, while additionally emphasizing awareness of the tonal function of each sound. Some exercises that involve singing suggest the use of specific vowels. In particular, “O” and “U” are associated with throat positions that produce a resonant sound.160 This idea aligns with formant theory, which concerns the acoustic 158 Pretto, Dentro il suono, 22. 159 Pretto, Dentro il suono, 32. 160 Pretto, Dentro il suono, 63. 64 characteristics of the vocal tract (see Chapter 2), even though it is not explicitly mentioned by Pretto. Another study that deals with vowels, vocal tract configuration, and mouth resonance is Kerry Elizabeth Walker’s doctoral dissertation. Walker details the parallel between vocal technique and flute playing, explaining the role of the larynx and mouth articulators in shaping flute sound. She quotes, among others, Robert Dick and Roger Mather, whose work is the last method I will consider here.161 Roger Mather’s The Art of Playing the Flute also draws a parallel between voice and flute. This study comprises three workbooks that extensively analyze issues related to breath control, embouchure, and resonance. Regarding the breathing process, Mather believes that the technique of airstream control in singing and flute playing is identical. His explanations are meticulous and address the mechanisms of inhaling and exhaling through numerous exercises. In his manual, singing—and specifically the belcanto vocal style—serves as a model for flute playing also in terms of sound quality and artistic result, shaping the ideal flute sound: “pure, brilliant, transparent, compact and projecting, with attacks that are gentle but precise.”162 Mather methodically catalogs the full range of sound colors, using vivid images and adjectives that evoke visual and tactile sensations, such as “transparent sound,” “floating sound,” “earth-bound sound,” and the like. In doing so, Mather links the practicality of producing these sounds to a network of bodily sensations that convey the desired sound quality. For each type of sound, the author describes how to produce it, specifying which overtones of the sound spectrum should be emphasized and the corresponding 161 Kerry Elizabeth Walker, “Cheek Inflation and Vowel Posture Techniques for the Flutist: The Exploration of a Kincaid Vision of Resonance made through Analogies to Vocal Pedagogy” (PhD diss., Texas Tech University, Lubbock, 1995), 31-42. 162 Roger Mather, The Art of Playing the Flute: A Series of Workbooks (Iowa City: Romney Press, 1980), 74. 65 embouchure.163 Such repertoire of sounds is intended to provide the standard palette of possibilities that a flutist might encounter in the repertoire.164 According to Mather, and contrary to what asserted by Dick and Pretto, modeling flute emission on singing technique relies predominantly on the modifications of lips and embouchure for color variations, while maintaining an open throat throughout. Nevertheless, among the techniques detailed in the final section of Mather’s book, the exercise on “silent singing” is a silent variant of the technique proposed by the aforementioned authors, including Graf, Dick, and Pretto. It consists of mimicking all the actions required for singing, but without producing the voice’s sound. Mather points out that, although no vocal sound is emitted, silently “singing” the pitches being played aligns the frequency of the vocal folds’ vibrations with those of the flute. This alignment results in favorable outcomes, enhancing the flute's resonance and sound quality.165 The exercise is even more effective if the flutist silently sings using different vowels. Mather recognizes in different vowels the quality to enhance different partials of the sound spectrum, noting that low register needs vowels less rich in overtones and with a stronger fundamental, such as “O”, and the opposite for the high register.166 Mather does not explicitly discuss the acoustic properties of the vocal tract but attributes a significant role to the mouth, which functions as a resonator. By coordinating the tongue and the jaw, the flutist can shape the mouth cavities in different ways to produce specific vowels. 167 The review of the above-mentioned flute methods highlights the evolution of flute practice and pedagogy toward a growing awareness of processes located within the body. 163 Mather, The Art of Playing the Flute, 153-9. 164 Mather, The Art of Playing the Flute, 154 165 Mather, The Art of Playing the Flute, 207. 166 Mather, The Art of Playing the Flute, 209. 167 Mather, The Art of Playing the Flute, 211-7. 66 While this awareness does not always align with accurate physiological understanding, there has been a notable shift from focusing on visible organs of sound production, like the lips, to internal structures, such as the larynx. This shift has strengthened the connections of flute playing with the voice, marking a significant development in flute technique and teaching methodologies, even though a consensus on how to concretely apply singing tools to the flute has not been universally reached. In the next section, I will analyze the scientific perspective on this topic. 3.3 Scientific Evidence Flutists and pedagogues are not alone in drawing parallels between singing and flute playing techniques. Physicists, particularly acousticians, have also taken an interest in this topic. An early comprehensive analysis of flute sound from the acoustic perspective is presented by Philip Bate in The Flute.168 While Bate supports the analogy between voice production and flute playing, he is cautious about extending the parallel too far. His detailed study of the flute’s acoustic properties leads to the conclusion that the instrument’s sound is primarily determined by the shape and dimensions of its bore.169 Nonetheless, when discussing the role of the mouth cavity, Bate also recognizes the importance of the physiological processes occurring inside the flutist’s body: This particular end correction [the lips opening] is very difficult to assess correctly as it is constantly modified by the changing position of the player’s lips. Indeed, deliberately varying this factor is one of the accepted techniques by which the flautist controls the intonation of the instrument. Moreover, the player’s actual mouth cavity has an effect here. When he is blowing his instrument, the air-body in the flautist’s 168 Philip Bate, The Flute, 2nd ed. (London: Ernest Benn, 1979). 169 Bate, The Flute, 47. 67 mouth—and, to extend the point, in his lungs as well—is loosely coupled to that in the tube of his instrument, so that resonance between the two may be set up. But the shape and volume of the mouth cavity are continuously variable, so the complexity of the relationship become extreme.170 According to Bate, the flute sound originates from the lips, which shape the air stream and direct it across the upper end of the resonating tube, which is the headjoint hole. Additionally, the player can influence the air stream’s speed by adjusting the shape of the lips, consequently modifying the pitch of the sound.171 By narrowing the lips’ aperture, the flutist can increase the air stream speed, causing the air column to produce tones an octave, a twelfth, or two octaves higher than the fundamental pitch determined by fingering. Another aspect that the player can modify using the lips is the dynamic range: shaping the lips to direct air into the flute at different angles produces sounds of varying intensity.172 While Bate attributes the primary role in sound modification to the lips, he acknowledges the significance of the mouth cavities in amplifying the sound. Nonetheless, he cautions that “body-tubes wind instruments possess complicated natural resonances,” and the tube wall and side-holes themselves have filtering properties that directly influence the sound.173 Recent scientific advancements in research applied to instrumental playing have in part challenged Bate’s conclusions. Over the past two decades, interdisciplinary research and scientific methods have studied the physiological aspects of playing wind instruments, 170 Bate, The Flute, 50. 171 Acoustically speaking, different pitches are produced by different lengths of the air column generated inside the flute and determined by the air stream’s speed. Concerning the lengths of air column inside the flute, different lengths of the air column are determined by the fingers’ action on the flute keys: when all the keys are pressed down, the length of the air column is the longest and the resulting sound the lowest; the opposite occurs when no keys is pressed. See Arthur H. Benade, Horns, Strings, and Harmony (New York: Dover, 2018), 206-9. 172 Bate, The Flute, 29. 173 Bate, The Flute, 47. 68 including the flute, leading to conclusions that cast a new light on the subject. Recent flute-related research has even employed new technologies and experimental diagnostic methods, like fMRI and electrolaryngography, to document in real time what happens inside the body of a playing flutist. One of the pioneers of this new wave of research is Isabelle Cossette, a Canadian flutist and scientist who has conducted several studies on flute playing, focusing on respiratory mechanism and biomechanics. In terms of analogies between singing and flute playing, her research suggests that singing and flute playing share similarities in terms of breathing mechanisms and support techniques.174 Cossette’s findings also underscore the individualized approach and personal style characterizing flute playing. She describes how different flutists employ various strategies and engage different muscle groups in distinct sequences, even when performing the same task, such as playing the same note at approximately the same intensity. According to her research, respiratory strategies also vary among players, with notable differences in the muscles involved in resisting the quick exit of air from the body. Commonly used strategies include lip aperture control, abdominal muscle engagement, and the use of the throat as a valve.175 One consistent result in Cossette’s findings, however, is the limited involvement of the diaphragm in producing long sustained notes, thus buttressing the idea that the diaphragm is not involved in support.176 In addition to Cossette, an increasing number of scientists have conducted studies validating the connections between singing and wind instrument playing. In general, those findings confirm that recognizing the role of the larynx and vocal folds is essential in wind sound production. This involves acknowledging that the throat, during both phonation and 174 Isabelle Cossette, Pierpaolo Monaco, Andrea Aliverti, and Peter T. Macklem, “Chest Wall Dynamics and Muscle Recruitment during Professional Flute Playing,” Respiratory Physiology & Neurobiology 160, no.2 (2008): 195. 175 Isabelle Cossette, Pawel Sliwinski, and Peter T. Macklem, “Respiratory Parameters during Professional Flute Playing,” Respiration Physiology 121, no. 1 (2000): 37. 176 Cossette, Sliwinski, and Macklem, “Respiratory Parameters during Professional Flute Playing,” 43. 69 instrumental playing, assumes various positions and apertures, challenging the notion that the throat must always remain open while playing to facilitate a free and projecting sound. Numerous studies have been conducted in this field. Sasumu Mukai, for one, reveals that wind instrumentalists adduct the vocal folds during tone production, a process that is also at the foundation of vibrato technique. Mukai notes that a narrowed glottis appears to control the airflow, while the embouchure’s role is primarily to receive the air flow.177 Claudia Eckley’s research confirms Mukai’s findings from a medical perspective. Eckley not only demonstrates the role of the glottis in airflow regulation but also suggests including wind instrumentalist in the group of “voice professionals.”178 Her observations of the dimensions and behaviour of the larynx during sound production demonstrate that the tone is produced with adducted vocal folds. Moreover, Eckley highlights the scarcity of studies on the topic of glottis involvement in airflow management, warning against the false believe that the larynx should be always be open in wind playing and the vocal folds abducted. This misconception, she observes, could potentially lead to health problems in wind players.179 Additionally, she notes that the technical difficulty of a certain passage can increase tension in the larynx, potentially causing constriction of the entire vocal tract. This linking between the emotional aspects of playing and the physiological response of the body implicitly suggests a consideration of instrumental practice from a broader perspective that includes both body and mind, supporting the embodied approach I discuss in this thesis.180 The need for a better understanding of the crucial role played by the larynx and vocal folds in both singing and wind playing is also emphasized by Sataloff and Trollinger, 177 Sasumu Mukai, “Laryngeal Movements during Wind Instruments Play,” Nippon Jibi Inkoka Gakkai Kaiho 92, no.2 (1989): 260–70. 178 Claudia Alessandra Eckley, “Glottic Configuration in Wind Instrument Players,” Brazilian Journal of Otorhinolaryngology 72, no. 1 (2006): 45-7. 179 Eckley, “Glottic Configuration in Wind Instrument Players,” 46. 180 Eckley, “Glottic Configuration in Wind Instrument Players,” 46. 70 respectively a voice scientist and a vocal coach. They assert that “optimal breathing technique and techniques of abdominal support are essentially the same for singers and most instrumentalists...” 181 Numerous studies, according to these scholars, have confirmed the significance of laryngeal activity and vocal tract shape in instrumental playing, influencing air stream regulation, tone color, pitch definition, and specific tasks like vibrato. Moreover, Sataloff and Trollinger observe that the degree of larynx involvement in creating intra-oral pressure varies among wind instruments, with reed instruments requiring different engagement comparing to brass instruments and flute. Depending on the size of mouthpieces, specific differences in resistance, flow rate, and flow volume apply.182 In line with Eckley’s findings, a misunderstanding of the larynx’s role can result not only in bad pedagogical advice, but also in a risk for the performer’s health.183 For instance, these authors point out that the general encouragement to maintain an “open throat” may indicate a lack of understanding of the throat’s complexity in singing as well as in wind playing, leading to inadequate instrumental guidance for students.184 Therefore, they stress the urgent need for a more profound comprehension of this phenomenon and for a dissemination of this knowledge among educators and pedagogues to enhance the quality of instrumental instruction. Scientific research applied to instrumental practice has spurred an increasing number of academic studies by performers, blending the perspective of performance practice with laboratory research. Among these, Osvaldo Gomes dos Santos Junior has explored the use of the throat in vibrato, challenging the traditional view that attributes vibrato production to 181 Valerie L. Trollinger and Robert T. Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 1,” Journal of Singing 76, no. 2 (2019): 172. 182 Trollinger and Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 1,” 171-9. 183 Trollinger and Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 1,” 173-4. 184 Trollinger and Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 1,” 175. 71 diaphragm movement. In particular, his study reveals the vocal folds and epiglottis involvement in vibrato, dynamics and tone production, through video nasendoscopy procedure.185 Similarly, Jessica Dalsant’s master thesis highlights and validates how the larynx contributes to vibrato production. She analyzes vibrato from a timbral perspective, relates it to the formant theory, and finally offers useful exercises connecting theoretical study to performance practice.186 Despite the evidence supporting the active involvement of phonation organs in flute playing, further research is necessary in this field. The flute is a complex system with various resonators at play, including the body and the instrument’s own resonators; given this complexity, we still lack a comprehensive understanding of how the lips contribute to transferring acoustic properties to the tube after being filtered by the vocal tract. As noted by Trollinger and Sataloff, an essential consideration is the acoustic coupling between the lip valves and the vocal folds. Moreover, further attention should be directed to the role of the tongue, especially during staccato techniques, an area yet to undergo thorough investigation.187 While it remains essential to emphasize adherence to scientific evidence when drawing parallels with singing—aiming to prevent misunderstandings and misinterpretations—in this chapter I provided elements that invite more robust connections between singing and flute playing from a variety of perspectives. The literature review I 185 Osvaldo Gomes Do Santos, “The Flute Inside-Out: Tracking Internal Movements in Flute Playing” (PhD diss., University of Sidney, Sydney, 2017), 2. The position of traditional flute pedagogy is summarized by Toff, who asserts that vibrato should be performed by the diaphragm and chest muscles, discouraging the involvement of the throat, as it may lead to excessive tension. See Nancy Toff, The Flute Book: A Complete Guide for Students and Performers, 3rd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 108-10. 186 Jessica Dalsant, “Avaliação de duas ferramentas para a representação das variáveis acústicas implicadas no vibrato da flauta” (Master Thesis, Federal University of Minas Gerais, Minas Gerais, 2011), 7. 187 Trollinger and Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 1,” 176. 72 conducted, which encompasses traditional and more recent instrumental methods, acoustical research, interdisciplinary perspectives, and analyses of physiological processes, corroborates the link between singing technique and flute playing. With the reinforcement of this parallelism, it becomes evident that flute technique is profoundly rooted in the flutist’s physiology and bodily processes. The consequences on performance practice are numerous. First, having a clear idea of the mechanisms behind sound production is a first step toward the ability to control such mechanisms, thus enriching the flutist’s efficiency in translating musical notation through their physical body; a more conscious approach to the breathing process expands possibilities in phrasing and shaping melodic lines based on musical ideas. Second, a better understanding of how to use the vocal tract and vocalization techniques enriches the timbral variety of flute playing, affording a wider availability of expressive tools. Third, shifting the focus to the processes that happen inside the flutist’s body has led to consider flute practice in a more holistic way, as seen in some of the studies analyzed above, such as those by Eckley and Trollinger and Sataloff, among others. Here, the technicalities of the actions required to achieve the final artistic result merge with attention to the physiology and, ultimately, the well-being of the instrumentalist. With the awareness gained from the analyses so far, the next chapter will introduce a practice model that merges the theoretical framework discussed in chapter 1 with insights derived from the investigations conducted in chapters 2 and 3. This model puts forth a daily routine, rooted in the analysis of my personal practice, with the aim of addressing flute playing challenges from an embodied perspective. 73 Chapter 4 THE PRACTICE MODEL Having established the theoretical framework of embodied practice, the previous chapters have examined the mechanisms underlying breathing and sound production. The embodied cognition model, coupled with insights from skill acquisition in sports, validates an integrated approach to instrumental practice. In addition, the singing voice’s inherent rootedness in the body offers a model for a “natural” approach to sound production in flute playing. Despite this natural embodiment, however, flutists must develop an explicit awareness of breathing and sound generation in their playing. They need a clear picture of the relevant physiology, particularly the activity of the diaphragm and laryngeal muscles, the roles of which have been misunderstood for decades. Awareness is a key concept in the ongoing debate between mindful and mindless practice, as previously discussed (see Chapter 1, section 1.3.) Moreover, as Eckart Altenmüller has argued, making music requires the conscious refinement of highly skilled movements, involving a complex interaction between sensory and motor tasks that engage and coordinate different parts of the brain. In particular, the basal ganglia connect the cerebral areas responsible for motor and sensory actions, playing a role in selecting the motor actions appropriate for a specific task. Another part of the brain, the cerebellum, is essential for movement accuracy and is primarily responsible for correcting errors and learning new skills. Finally, kinesthetic feedback allows for the control of motor actions. Such control occurs through a complex process in which somatosensory information is represented and stored in the brain. Interestingly, the brain does not represent muscles, but 74 rather movements, which aligns with Jaques-Dalcroze’s intuition about the importance of movement in music learning.188 The focus of this chapter is thus to define an awareness-based practice routine, which entails several steps, such as the conceptual understanding of the muscular activity involved in sound production, the recognition of such activity in one’s own body (kinesthesia), and the development of effective control of this activity (diaphragm and larynx) while playing the instrument. If the process is well managed, flutists should be able to integrate this newly acquired self-control into their already established performance schemata (posture, fingering, and so on). During this process, the body elements involved in instrumental performance undergo a comprehensive re-organization, facilitating a fluency that integrates analytical self-knowledge into musical practice. Ideally, the application of this mindful multi-step procedure should foster the gradual development of a positive mindless practice. First-class instrumentalists—indeed, creative individuals in many fields—have often reported this distinctive state of mind. The pianist Ivo Pogorelich, for instance, described the performance experience as a state in which the distinction between instrument and player fades away, “the notes have become you and you have become the notes”.189 The musician experiences a mindless immersion in the act of playing, achieving a state of optimal performance that psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi famously described as “flow.”190 The experience of flow, however, is only possible once the individual has developed necessary high-level skills. 188 Eckart Altenmüller, “Brain Mechanisms of Musical Learning and Performing” in The Oxford Handbook of Music Performance, ed. Gary E. McPherson, vol. 2 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022), 157-179. 189 Elyse Mach, Great Contemporary Pianists Speak for Themselves (New York: Dover, 1991), 244, quoted in Roger Chaffin and Gabriela Imreh, “Practicing Perfection: Piano Performance as Expert Memory,” Psychological Science 13, no. 4 (2002): 348. 190 Csikszentmihalyi describes flow as optimal experience, in which “the information that keeps coming into awareness is congruent with goals.” See Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Psychology of Happiness (London: Rider, 2002), 39. 75 Plenty of mindful work must have happened beforehand. In an apparent paradox, one must acquire absolute control of a particular domain to be able to relinquish that control. To facilitate this process and reach the ideal point of identification with the instrument, in this chapter I establish a connection between the concept of instrumental embodiment and daily flute practice, devising a practice routine grounded in an integrated approach to flute playing. This routine aims to deepen awareness of the gestures and movements that prove advantageous for playing the instrument. By training the brain to accurately move fingers and make internal adjustments in response to stimuli from bodily sensations, the proposed practice model creates a circular system of constant self-influence through sensory feedback, which is the foundation of an embodied practice. First, I conduct a meticulous review of my practice over the past year, compiling a list of the challenges I encountered most frequently during practice sessions. In it, I pay close attention to the specific body parts involved in various actions. Moreover, I reflect on the level of awareness I maintained during the analyzed task, exploring how an enhanced understanding of physiological and motor mechanisms can positively impact my practice. Upon transcribing my practice notes, a prominent pattern emerges around three main key areas: finger technique and micro-movements, breathing, and sound emission. I then devise a series of exercises aimed at addressing these three domains. While some exercises are the product of my own exploration and speculation, others draw inspiration from existing methods, particularly those focusing on sound emission. In the latter case, my original contribution lies in providing detailed instructions on executing these exercises and emphasizing how the specific body parts are involved in each action. 76 4.1 Awareness-Based Strategies and Exercises for Fingers Finger technique is a central component of flutists’ practice, from beginners to professionals. Yet it is usually considered something that does not require explanation or understanding but that can be acquired through purely mechanical practice. Most of the traditional flute methods focus on the repetition of rhythmic schemes, meant to facilitate the muscular learning of movement. What traditional methods often neglect is the question of why a specific technical passage is difficult, and how to optimize the bodily component involved in the relevant motor task to achieve the desired result. Additionally, they tend to treat finger technique in isolation from other aspects of flute practice, such as airflow management. For example, methods by Paul Taffanel and Philip Gaubert, as well as by Marcel Moyse, which are still widely in use, primarily focus on mechanical work, emphasizing precision in finger movement achieved through rigorous practice with a metronome at progressively faster tempi. Although the authors suggest playing the exercises with variations in phrasing and sonority nuances, implicitly alluding to the importance of airflow management, there is no explicit indication of how to integrate emission and finger technique.191 An analysis of micro-movements that focuses only on mechanical elements would be incomplete and superficial, lacking the necessary attention to the link between fingers and the emission process.192 The interplay between finger technique and emission is substantiated by acoustics and the mechanics of the flute, as discussed by Arthur Benade and further examined 191 Claude Paul Taffanel and Philippe Gaubert, Méthode complète de flûte: en huit parties (Paris: Leduc, 1958), 103; Marcel Moyse, Exercices journaliers pour la flûte (Paris: Leduc, 1923). 192 While finger movements on the flute keys are primarily responsible for the variation of the air column, resulting in different sound pitches, they are not the sole factor influencing the changing in the vibration mode of the air column produced inside the flute’s body. Pitch and tuning also depend on the energy impressed by the flutist blowing into the embouchure hole. If the flute player does not pair the mechanical action of moving the fingers with attention to air emission, the quality of the sound will poorly degrade. Indeed, every octave in the flute requires a specific combination of air quantity and pressure. The balance between the two varies significantly based on the desired nuance, intensity and timbre, notably influencing tuning as well. 77 in the Appendix.193 Additionally, recent works intended for flute players, such as The Flutist’s Vade Mecum by Walfrid Kujala and The Simple Flute by Michel Debost, approach finger practice comprehensively, pairing mechanic training with emission.194 In order to recognize the close connection between finger technique and other aspects of flute practice—and to embody finger technique—in my daily practice, I have found it useful to break down big problems into smaller ones. I then categorize exercises according to three main phases: recognizing the problem, addressing issues related to rhythm, and building automatism for new motor schemata. We can outline this process of categorization as follows: § Problem identification: recognizing the specific issues and challenges in the given passage. § Rhythm amending and beat internalization: clarifying the distribution of rhythmic values by regrouping the passage; repeating and recombining the passage with different rhythmic schemes, accents, and phrasing. § Building new automatism: passage embodiment, by slowing down the tempo and connecting finger movements to body sensations, allowing them to become ingrained physically and physiologically. 193 Arthur H. Benade, Horns, Strings, and Harmony (New York: Dover,1992), 223. 194 In his method, Kujala places finger technique into a broader perspective, connecting it to musical repertoire and pairing it with embouchure technique. In the introduction to his method, he analyzes challenging finger combinations and recommends facilitated fingerings to improve proficiency. Kujala also addresses weaknesses in specific fingers, such as the thumb or little finger, and provides explanations for different slurs. Additionally, he suggests recording personal practice sessions and practicing in front of a mirror, advocating for a comprehensive approach to problem resolution. Moreover, in the afterword “To Your Health,” he emphasizes the significance of the flutist’s well-being in both daily and performance practices. See Walfrid Kujala, The Flutist’s Vade Mecum of Scales, Arpeggios, Trills and Fingering Technique, 2nd ed. (Evanston, Illinois: Progress Press, 2012), 7-11; 130-5. Michel Debost, in his manual, emphasizes that finger technique cannot be separated from sound quality. He explores emotional and general muscle tension, analyzing the physical manifestations of performance-related stress and proposing strategies to address the issue. With specific attention to finger action, he addresses finger antagonism (when some fingers lift while others press) and the control involved. He notes that “down” fingers move faster than “up” fingers, owing to reflex and gravity. See Michel Debost and Jeanne Debost-Roth, The Simple Flute: From A to Z (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), 78-82; 230-3. 78 4.1.1 Developing Problem Identification Skills and Practice Strategies The first step for addressing problems in my daily practice involves identifying them, a process that applies equally to finger technique. When faced with difficulties in a specific passage, I first research the origin of the problem, which may not always be immediately apparent. It is common for my playing to become overly automated, resulting in a diminished awareness of finger movement. While wrong notes may result from erroneous movements, I find it essential to address why the executed movement deviates from the functional one. In some cases, superficial auditory feedback leads me to internalize mistakes. Mistakes often occur in conjunction with unusual or less frequent finger combinations. The third register is particularly challenging, both because the finger scheme for a given pitch differs from those of the first and second octave, and because third register pitches require better control in air stream management. In the case of errors stemming from a lack of clarity in the motor scheme, the problem is particularly evident when playing unusual pitch combinations, or intervals that frequently occur at fast tempi in flute literature, such as thirds. Here, I will consider the case of major thirds. One primary challenge is keeping a steady legato, because the third octave requires a continuous adjustment of the air blown into the instrument, which can result in uneven air flow (more on the issue below). A second challenge with playing thirds is strict adherence to the interval scheme, as I have tended to unconsciously rearrange it, especially in descending motion. I noticed that the upward and downward motions display a different sort of challenge. While ascending, my fingers play with ease the motor scheme organized by thirds: C-E, D-F, and so on. However, at the top of the scheme, when playing the highest couple of notes, I have often found myself unconsciously thinking of a different organization of the intervals. I realized that I overlapped a scheme of ascending seconds with the scheme by thirds. At the top notes, I rearranged the coupling of notes as A-C, B, D-C, A-B, G-A instead of the correct A-C, B-D, C-A, B-G. The 79 inadvertent reorganization might have to do also with metric accent, not only with the interval mental schema, with a shift is from trochee (C-A, B-G) with accent on the first note of each pair to iambic (A-B, G-A) with accent on the second note of each pair. This realization emphasizes the importance of continuous and conscious monitoring both of the motor scheme (since the lack of muscular awareness can lead to the memorization of a wrong movement and disrupt the correct learning of an entire passage) and the accentuation, which also depends on air management and legato. Another challenge associated to finger technique is the tendency to rush the tempo while tensing the lips and the throat and stiffening the fingers, both of which I noted more prominently in fast ascending passages in the third register. This tension might be a physiological response to the fear of failing a passage, which is consistent with the relationship between anxiety and dexterity, as investigated by Shuntaro Kotani and Shinichi Furuya, which I will discuss in section 4.5.195 Muscular tension can also result from a poor posture or overall muscular rigidity. 196 In my observations, I have noticed that my fingers tend to lift considerably, moving farther from the keys during challenging passages or transitions between unfamiliar fingerings. This imbalance in finger movement can compromise the stability of the instrument and result in less steady sound emission. For example, in passages such as the transition from C-C# to D-D# in the second register, where there is a sudden shift from engaging one or two fingers to utilizing almost all fingers of both hands, the instrument’s equilibrium is often disrupted. Conversely, in the first octave 195 Shuntaro Kotani and Shinichi Furuya, “State Anxiety Disorganizes Finger Movements during Musical Performance,” Journal of Neurophysiology 120, no. 2 (January 2018): 439-451. 196 When the overall muscle system is compromised due to excessive tension caused by poor posture or rigidity, it negatively impacts the movement of the fingers. Postural re-education has been extensively explored by various body awareness methods, including the Alexander Technique and Feldenkrais methods, to name two well-known approaches. More recently, a technique known as “body mapping” has been developed, which aims to enhance awareness of how the body’s muscles function for better control of movement. 80 challenges arise in passages involving the fourth and little fingers of the right hand. These challenges are exacerbated by physiological constraints such as hand size. Players with smaller hands may find it challenging to reach the keys corresponding to the lowest notes of the flute, and the discomfort of attendant finger stretching may compromise the instrument’s stability. In my case, with small hands and a short little finger, reaching the B roller key while maintaining stability is particularly difficult. To address the above-mentioned issues, two familiar strategies I have found useful are slowing down the practice consistently and practicing in front of a mirror. Slow practice allows for careful scrutiny of finger transitions, enabling me to pinpoint any coordination issues that may arise. Practicing in front of a mirror provides visual feedback of finger movements in relation to the flute axis, ensuring that the resulting pitch matches the correct fingering and helping to identify even the slightest motor imprecision that could disrupt the passage's fluidity. To develop awareness of finger coordination, I first practice the passage slowly, using the metronome and starting at 50 bpm for the quarter note. I perform the exercise in front of a mirror, focusing closely on finger movements and paying attention to finger synchronization, monitoring at what speed the movement becomes disrupted. Using a fragment of scales by thirds in C Major, in this exercise (ex.1) I focus specifically on the third register. This approach can be applied to any challenging passage. Example 1. Major thirds. For exercises involving the fingers of the right hand, particularly in the first octave, I pay close attention to the stretching of the little finger, ensuring that the movement involves only      81 the pinky and does not disturb the hand’s position in relation to the flute axis (ex. 2). Any deviation may lead to ineffective hole closure and poor sound quality. Example 2. Right hand: stretching of the little finger. Having identified the problem area and the specific fingers involved, I focus on the movement of each individual finger and monitor the resulting sound. I pay close attention to the sensation of the fingers pressing the flute’s keys, creating a cohesive connection between hearing, vision, and kinesthetic feeling. Repetition of the most challenging passages at an extremely slow tempo helps me to imprint the correct movement in muscle memory and ensures proper acquisition of the motor task. In addition to that, I practice the passage away from the flute, mentally visualizing the movement of the fingers, consciously reinforcing the motor pattern. Following this phase, I proceed to verify the accuracy of the rhythm I am performing, ensuring that my fingers have not memorized the wrong movement, as detailed in the next section. 4.1.2 Rhythmic Integrity and Beat Internalization Executing written rhythms, especially if the grouping is irregular, may be challenging if my fingers have not fully internalized the required movements. Therefore, before focusing on rhythm integrity, I prioritize teaching my fingers the correct movements by exploring all possible combinations of rhythms and articulations. While some of the following exercises are familiar, others, such as the repetition in backward motion and pairing fingers with steps, represent my own contributions. First, I repeat and recombine the passage with various             82 rhythmic schemes, accents, and phrasing. I begin at a slow tempo and gradually increase the speed, practicing with different slurs and combinations of staccato and legato (ex. 3 and 4). Example 3. Eighth notes slurred in groups of four. Example 4. A variation of the slurring pattern. The same concept can be applied to explore all possible combinations, including different metres (ex. 5-7). Example 5. Metric variation. Example 6. Grouping variation                55 5 5 83 Example 7. Phrasing variation applied to regrouping. I then practice all the previous exercises in backward order, from slow to faster tempo, and with different combinations of slurs and accents. Subsequently, I practice varying accents, repeating each pattern for the entire bar (ex. 8). Example 8. Variation in accentuation. When dealing with runs consisting of many notes organized in odd groups, as in the passage from Karg Elert’s Sonata Appassionata, Op. 140 (ex. 9), I break them into smaller and slower chunks with even rhythms to familiarize my fingers initially. Subsequently, I reassemble the passage to restore its rhythmic integrity once I feel confident in my finger movements. Example 9. Karg Elert Sonata Appassionata, Op. 140, (Frankfurt: Zimmermann,1921), mm. 45- 48.    55 5 5  6 66 6 84 Example 10. Odd group rearranged into regular chunks. Maintaining a steady beat is essential when focusing on finger technique, ensuring the muscular movements align with the rhythmic subdivision in the score consistently. Traditional flute methods recommend the use of external devices, such as metronomes, to safeguard rhythmic integrity. As discussed in the first chapter, research on sports skill acquisition also underscores the utility of external devices for performance monitoring. These tools offer external feedback through visual or sound alerts when deviations occur, reducing the need for constant guidance from an instructor or coach and fostering independent practice. Relying solely on these devices can be risky, however, as the positive outcomes of augmented feedback are temporary and do not have a substantial impact on learning. I regularly use external devices, such as a digital metronome, to assist me in monitoring my practice. It helps in maintaining a steady beat and practicing challenging fingerings with gradual tempo progression. I have nonetheless observed that this method seldom guarantees the resolution of the problem. Moreover, any progress made with the metronome often diminishes when I turn it off. Despite rigorous and lengthy training with the metronome, I still tend to rush passages or accelerate the tempo, especially during highly stressful performances. In fact, as reported by David I. Anderson and his colleagues in the domain of skill acquisition in sports, augmented feedback devices offer external help that, while useful 3         33 85 at the moment, prevents the internalization of feedback (such as the metronome beat in music) because it blocks the processing of internal and intrinsic feedback.197 Recent research in neuroscience and groove supports the notion that the challenge of maintaining a steady beat in music arises from a lack of internalization of the musical pulse. This is highlighted in studies exploring the strong connection between the motor system and time perception. For instance, Fiona Manning and Michael Schutz report that moving in time with the beat can enhance the perception of timing, making it easier to identify the beat. They also highlight the significant interactions between the auditory and motor systems.198 Another study by Yi-Huang Su and Ernst Pöppel emphasizes that visible physical movements, such as foot tapping or head nodding, help musicians maintain a steady pulse and tempo.199 These findings support approaches like Jaques-Dalcroze's Eurhythmics, which integrates body movements into music practice as a way to internalize the rhythmic beat, as discussed in Chapter 1.200 Incorporating these findings into my daily practice, I have introduced exercises involving movement, such as playing while walking, to internalize the beat and pair it with finger micro movements. Essentially, the main principle I apply is akin to the one suggested in ex. 8, and consists of breaking down the passage into smaller units and rearranging rhythmic groupings until the motor scheme is acquired. What I add here is the physical gesture of a step, which marks pivotal notes and serves as reminder to pay particular attention 197 David I. Anderson, Richard A. Magill, Anthony M. Mayo, Kylie A. Steel, “Enhancing Motor Skill Acquisition with Augmented Feedback,” in Skill Acquisition in Sport: Research, Theory and Practice, edited by Nicola J. Hodges and A. Mark Williams, 3rd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2020), 6-7. 198 Fiona Manning and Michael Schutz, “’Moving to the Beat’ Improves Timing Perception,” Psychonomic Bulletin & Review 20, no. 6 (2013): 1133-9. 199 Yi-Huang Su and Ernst Pöppel, “Body Movement Enhances the Extraction of Temporal Structures in Auditory Sequences,” Psychological Research 76, no. 3 (2011): 373-82. 200 Émile Jaques-Dalcroze, Rhythm, Music, and Education, trans. Harold F. Rubinstein, 5th ed. (Geneva: The Dalcroze Society, 2000), 36-46. 86 to the most complex combination of notes. Maintaining a deep awareness of the finger movement and kinesthetic attention to their position on the keys while walking to the accent also aids me in establishing a strong connection between the beat and the rhythm written in the score. I incorporate walking practice using ex. 8 as a reference. Instead of playing accents, I take a step to counteract the risk of rushing the tempo, as shown in ex. 11. I focus on feeling the evenness of each step and carefully distribute the rhythmic values accordingly. In the following exercise, “s.” stands for step. Example 11. Regrouping with steps. I break down the irregular group into more regular rhythmic patterns and reorganize them around pivotal notes, accentuating them with a step. Once I feel comfortable with the regrouping and can play it effortlessly, I shift the pivotal note, adjusting the accent and stepping to the new focal point in the passage. I repeat this process for all possible combinations of rhythm and accents. This comprehensive approach helps me develop muscle familiarity and enhances ease in playing the various components of the passage. After gaining confidence with the combinatory process, I reconstruct the passage according to the written score, aiming to achieve a sense of unity. This method has been shown to be beneficial for encoding information, as evidenced by several studies on instrumental musicians’ practice reported by Peter Miksza. According to his research, breaking down material into smaller      s.s. s. s.s. s. s. s. s.s.6 6 6 6 87 chunks and then piecing them back together in larger portions allows musicians to better encode information and enhance their awareness of the task they are performing.201 An alternative approach to maintaining the beat without relying on a metronome and preventing rushing is to play the passage with staccato articulation. Staccato allows flutists to engage the tongue, which helps monitor the integrity of the rhythm, functioning as a kinesthetic “conductor” that maintains the pace and keeps the rush impulse under control. For example, when practicing a challenging passage from André Jolivet’s Chant de Linos (see ex. 12), for instance, I first play it legato, and I selectively introduce staccato articulation to the notes that pose the greatest difficulty, as in ex. 13. Example 12. Jolivet, Chant de Linos, (Paris: Alphonse Léduc, 2002), mm. 9. Example 13. Articulation variation. The exercises described above are just a few instances of how to embody the correct movement needed for passages with difficult finger work. Numerous variations can be created to address technical difficulties, ensuring that practice remains engaging and diverse. 201 Peter Miksza, “Practice,” in The Oxford Handbook of Music Performance, volume 1, ed. Gary E. McPherson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022), 164.      88 Miksza's research on musicians' practice highlights that gaining expertise extends beyond merely achieving technical proficiency. It involves refining various mental representations that give musicians greater control over their performance. According to Miksza, deliberate slow practice, along with chunking and learning methods that prioritize conscious practice over automatic routines, can enhance the efficiency of the motor system.202 This concept aligns well both with the embodied theoretical framework discussed in Chapter 1 and the exercises I proposed. 4.1.3 Building Automatism The issue with automated practice arises when the process lacks strict intentionality, potentially resulting in the internalization of incorrect techniques, as noted by Miksza. Some level of automation, however, is essential for mastering a task, as it frees up the performer’s attentional capacity, making them more adaptable and better able to handle distractions during a performance.203 Therefore, the challenge lies in developing a beneficial form of automatism that reinforces newly established motor patterns developed through deliberate and attentive practice. Here too, initial mindfulness is necessary to enable later mindlessness. As seen, a valuable strategy involves practicing the problematic passage in various rhythmic combinations to ensure the precise execution of the relevant muscular movements. A recurring challenge I face, however, is that the technical resolution of a given passage does not guarantee smooth integration into the broader musical context. This challenge might arise from faulty muscle memory associated with the surrounding musical segments. One effective way to address this issue is to build embodied awareness “outward” from the already resolved passage: I gradually incorporate the notes preceding and following 202 Miksza, “Practice,”154. 203 Miksza, “Practice,”164. 89 the problematic passage, maintaining conscious control and thus bridging the motor awareness acquired in the passage to the performance of the surrounding music. A second strategy is mixing different tempos. I keep the surrounding music at the final tempo while playing the difficult passage at half the speed. Gradually, I speed up the difficult passage until it also matches the desired performance tempo. This strategy allows me to blend already fully automated skills with those that still require attention, eventually “writing” into muscle memory a new and unified motor scheme for the entire section that contains the problematic passage. In practice, the procedure unfolds as follows. I break the problematic passage by inserting a sudden stop immediately before the trickiest finger switch, thus directing my attention to the muscular movement involved at the exact point of difficulty as in ex. 14. Example 14. Isolating the passage. I then mix different tempi, replacing the written rhythm with a slower one in correspondence of the difficult switch, as shown in ex. 15 and 16. Example 15. Applying a slower rhythm to the tricky switch      666 6   6 90 Example 16. Applying a different slower rhythm to the tricky switch Finally, to consolidate the newly acquired motor scheme, I practice the passage by gradually adding previous and following notes, slowly reconstructing the broader musical section. A thorough application of this technique can “resolve” the performance of an entire piece. 4.2 Awareness-Based Strategies and Exercises for Breathing As I have discussed in chapter 2, learning how to breathe efficiently and maximize air intake is a crucial aspect of flute practice, requiring years of consistent training. For effective breathing, maintaining a good posture is crucial, as any unnecessary muscular tension, particularly in the neck, torso, and head, can restrict rib cage expansion and compress the airways. This can result in inadequate lung inflation and, consequently, poor sound quality. Typically, one of the first instructions given to flutists is to maintain a straight yet relaxed posture while playing. Without delving into a topic extensively covered in specialized literature, I have personally benefited from techniques learned from the many methods focusing on body awareness, such as the Alexander Technique, Mezière Method, and the more recent Body Mapping. These techniques promote a more conscious use of the body, allowing musicians to improve muscular efficiency with reduced effort and tension. Body Mapping, in particular, focuses on learning movement patterns that support optimal musical performance. It emphasizes the importance of having an accurate understanding of anatomy   6 91 and physiology, including breathing processes, to achieve peak performance free from pain and injuries.204 Equally important is understanding how to breathe in relation to our musical goals while adapting the breath to our personal physiology. This process involves recognizing the specific characteristics of each individual’s body, as different lung capacities require different strategies to manage airflow. A study conducted by Isabelle Cossette and her colleagues highlights the individual nature of breathing strategies. Four flutists played scales and difficult orchestral solos while she and her team analyzed the subjects’ breathing processes and their relationship with mouth pressure, abdominal muscle engagement, lips movements, air stream length, and air pressure. The findings show that different flutists employ individual strategies and solutions based on their personal characteristics.205 Moreover, individual factors such as “stature, sex, body mass, posture, habitus, ethnic group, reflex factors and daily activity pattern” determine the size of the lung, as reported by the European respiratory society.206 This specificity is important to acknowledge, as the forces involved in the breathing process are related to lung volume.207 Applying this “tailored-breathing” philosophy to my own practice, I have indeed realized that a natural approach to breathing shaped by my physical structure enhances my playing, particularly in terms of phrasing. Although breathing in wind instruments is a component of playing technique, it should remain anchored in natural physiology. While 204 Johnny L. Pherigo, "Science and Medicine: What Every Musician Needs to Know about the Body—an Introduction to Body Mapping," The Horn Call 45, no. 1 (2014): 92. 205 Isabelle Cossette, Pierpaolo Monaco, Andrea Aliverti, and Peter T. Macklem, “Chest Wall Dynamics and Muscle Recruitment during Professional Flute Playing,” Respiratory Physiology & Neurobiology 160, no. 2 (2008): 187-195. 206 Philip H. Quanjer, G. J. Tammeling, John E. Cotes, Oluf F. Pedersen, René Peslin, and Jean-Claude Yernault. “Lung Volumes and Forced Ventilatory Flows. Report Working Party Standardization of Lung Function Tests, European Community for Steel and Coal. Official Statement of the European Respiratory Society,” The European Respiratory Journal, Supplement 16, (1993): 5. 207 Quanjer, Tammeling, Cotes, Pedersen, Peslin, Yernault. “Lung Volumes and Forced Ventilatory Flows,” 5-40. 92 years of efforts to develop lung capacity and breath control have provided valuable insights into distributing and controlling the airstream, this intense focus has, at times, led to excessive stress on my neck muscles, shoulders, and back, negatively impacting my sound quality. To embrace a more natural approach to breathing, I have adapted my phrasing to align with my body structure and lung capacity, as opposed to imposing predetermined phrasing requirements on my body. Instead of fixating on filling my lungs to the maximum and then exerting stress to regulate airflow, I have experimented with a more natural breath. As vocal pedagogue Joan Sundberg points out, fuller lungs result in higher subglottic pressure, necessitating an increase in glottal resistance to control the air flow.208 Indeed, I noticed that my attempt to retain a large quantity of air often creates excessive tension in the glottal area, which leads to strained sound. While the glottis plays a significant role in regulating airflow, and serves as a substantial tool for sound emission, I have reflected on the need to use it effectively without applying excessive tension. I have thus learned to distribute the air more effectively in alignment with the musical features at hand and adjust my sound to the physiological features of my body, as I will detail in the exercise below. The development of breathing awareness can also rely on external guidance. I have experimented with a device called “Breath Builder,” which I have found effective for gaining consciousness of processes otherwise “hidden” in our physiology. The device, invented by bassoonist Harold Hansen in the 1970s, aims to improve the ability to inhale deeply, and its use has been supported by renowned tubist Arnold Jacobs. Additionally, Keith Underwood has successfully employed the Breath Builder for over two decades in his pedagogical activity at the NYU Steinhardt Department of Music. Both musicians find it an efficient aid 208 Johan Sundberg, The Science of the Singing Voice (DeKalb, Illinois: Northern Illinois University Press, 1987), 29, 35-41. 93 for connecting with their breath and maintaining a consistent airflow.209 The device consists of a plastic cylinder sealed at the two extremities, with a ping-pong ball inside. On the top, there are four holes: one raised hole, one large hole, and two smaller holes, offering different degrees of resistance to the air blown. The Breath Builder comes with two straws of different diameters, which allows to adapt its use to different instruments: the narrower straw requires less airflow and greater air pressure, while the wider one need more airflow and less pressure. When the user exhales an adequate amount of air into the Breath Builder, the ping-pong ball rises to the top of the cylinder. The objective is to keep the ball at the top of the tube by inhaling and exhaling through the straw, maintaining a balance among airflow and its pressure, as insufficient airflow or pressure will cause the ball to drop.210 Moreover, by covering the holes on the top, it is possible to adjust the resistance according to the flow rate required by each wind instrument: covering one or two of the three open holes lowers the resistance.211 Since the flute is a small instrument requiring a high flow rate, the recommended configuration is to use the larger straw and leave open the largest hole on the top.212 The ping-pong ball serves as visual feedback, indicating a decrease in airflow when it falls or sinks. In essence, its use exemplifies the idea of embodiment by explicitly revealing the internal process of blowing out the air, and it has proven to be relevant for my practice in at least three ways. First, it enhances my awareness of the inhalation process and the muscles involved in it; isolating the breathing process from sound production allows me to focus on 209 The Breath Builder™, developed by bassoonist Harold Hansen in the 1970s, was designed to assist students in achieving proper breathing technique without tension. See Wendy E. Mazon “The Effect of the Breath Builder™ on various Lung Functions and Musical Performance Abilities of Clarinet Players” (DMA diss., The University of Arizona, 2009), 10-11. 210 Brian Frederiksen, “The Jacob’s studio, Breath Builder,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind, Kindle Edition (Gurnee: WindSong Press, 2012). 211 Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 2nd ed. (Lanham, Maryland: Rowan and Littlefield, 2019), 34. 212 Ibid. 94 breathing without concern for producing a quality sound. Second, the visualization of the ball helps me monitor if I am breathing with the right pressure, because if I breathe out normally without creating the needed pressure, the ball does not move. Lastly, by training me to blow out regularly and with the right balance in airflow and pressure, the Breath Builder helps me to consciously develop the ideal breath support, a concept I will explore further in the next section. Below there are two exercises that I have devised to assist my breathing technique. The first one is adapted from Moyse’s De la sonorité, as in ex. 17. However, it is advisable to avoid the low register initially, as focusing on the sound may lead to forced exhalation and strained emission. I begin by taking a moderate breath and playing the exercise without forcefully retaining the air. I observe my natural breath capacity. Then, I focus on opening the mouth without tensing my neck, raising the shoulders, or making noise while breathing in. I take the needed time and avoid rushing the inhalation. Once I feel more comfortable with my breathing, I gradually increase the duration of the played fragment, holding the air for a progressively longer time. In the next step, I practice inhaling more quickly. I repeat the same exercise without the flute, using the Breath Builder instead, paying attention to how the abdominal muscles engage and how long I can retain the air. Returning to the flute I observe if there are any differences in the way I exhale, comparing the length of the emission with the exercise from the previous step. Example 17. Moyse, De la sonorité: Art et technique, (Paris: Leduc, 1934), 10. 95 I then apply the same strategy explored above to a piece from the flute repertoire, like the opening phrase of Sergey Prokofiev Sonata for flute and piano, op. 94 (ex. 18). I explore my lung capacity, playing without forcing the air retention, and I find my own phrasing. I adjust my sonority and nuances according to the musical phrasing while maintaining natural airflow management. Example 18. Sergey Prokofiev, Sonata for Flute and Piano, op.94, (Frankfurt: Peters Edition, after 1991), mm.1-4. The excerpt in ex. 18 exemplifies a long phrase that can be played in just one breath or segmented into multiple parts. For this reason, it represents a good exercise for understanding the relationship between breath control, musical phrasing, and lung capacity. 4.3 Awareness-Based Strategies and Exercises for Emission I analyzed emission and sound production in the previous chapter, where I validated the parallel with singing and emphasized how awareness of the internal processes that leads to sound production is a fundamental element of an embodied perspective on instrumental practice. Wind instruments are more challenging than strings in this regard. Acquiring awareness of one’s bodily involvement is obviously easier when the processes are external. Instruments like the piano or violin, where sound production is linked to visible movements of the arms or fingers, allow the instrumentalist to immediately relate a movement to the sound it produces. Moreover, all the different actions needed to produce a given sound are immediately felt on a muscular level. For example, a pianist playing a fifth with thumb and 96 middle finger will immediately relate the feeling of stretching the hand to the required width and the auditory sensation of that interval. But sound production in wind playing does not depend solely on visible actions, such as the finger movement, but is strictly related to physiological processes that are partly concealed, such as mouth shaping and internal air-flow management.213 Thus, the relationship between physiological processes and sound production is less obvious and needs to be investigated before it can be consciously controlled for music making, and for flute practice to be fully embodied. Jaques-Dalcroze offers an excellent example of the relation between physiology and embodied musical practice. When discussing the need for instrumentalists to develop inner hearing, he strictly relates it to vocal sensations: I therefore set about devising exercises to enable my pupils to recognize the pitch sounds, estimate intervals, apprehend harmonies, distinguish the different notes in chords, follow the contrapuntal effects in polyphonic music, distinguish keys, analyze the relations between hearing and vocal sensations, sensitize the ear, and—by means of a new system of gymnastics applied to the nervous system—open up between brain, ear and larynx the necessary channels to form of the entire organism what one might call the inner ear.214 To relate all these ideas to the practicality of flute emission is crucial to take awareness of how to blow out the air to produce a sound for music purpose. This is closely tied to the concept of support, which, in turn, is strictly linked to breath. 213 Further evidence of the importance of emission during fingers action is the need to increase the air speed when switching between similar fingerings across octaves. Most of the third-octave sounds are produced by fingerings similar to those of the first and second octaves. For example, to play a third-octave D, the flutist normally employs the same fingers used to play a first-octave G, except that the left index is lifted. But this simple action will not make the D speak out unless the flutist also adjusts the air’s speed. 214 Jaques-Dalcroze, Rhythm Music & Education, 2. 97 As Isabelle Cossette highlights, while flutists commonly talk about “breath support”, the term is often misused and there is no consensus among flutists on how to support in flute emission.215 Support is intimately connected to breath, as noted by many wind players, including Arnold Jacobs, who defined it as the “movement of air required by the embouchure or reed.”216 Here, I adopt Susan Maclagan’s definition of support as the ability to control and manipulate air speed to regulate the pressure behind the breath – a notion that most flutists would agree upon, although there is still no widespread consensus on how to achieve this support. 217 In the practice of emission, support translates into the skill of blowing out air in a manner that ensures a stable and even sound across different registers and expressive nuances. This skill involves maintaining a constant air speed between contiguous notes of the same dynamic level or varying air speed consistently but smoothly between notes that are apart by large intervals or different dynamic levels. Such ability, in turn, depends on the quantity and consistency of air blown over a given timespan by the coordinated actions of abdominal muscles, laryngeal region organs, and embouchure.218 Without delving too deeply into the detailed relationship between acoustic features, sound results, and the physical actions required to achieve the desired sound—topics I address in the Appendix—for the sake of clarity, I offer here a brief explanation of the terms I will use in reference to flute sound production. The air stream refers generally to the air blown from the lungs into the instrument. Within this stream, air flow indicates the volume of 215 Isabelle Cossette, Pierpaolo Monaco, Andrea Aliverti, and Peter T. Macklem, “Chest Wall Dynamics and Muscle Recruitment during Professional Flute Playing,” Respiratory Physiology & Neurobiology 160, no. 2 (2008): 187-195. 216 Frederiksen, “Elements, Diaphragm,” in Arnold Jacobs: Song and Wind. 217 Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 34. 218 For a detailed explanation of the relation between speed of the air blown, its pressure and their effects on the resulting sound, refer to the Appendix. 98 air and is measured in litres per second, while air pressure corresponds to the force driving the air and is directly related to the velocity of the air stream, measured in metres per second. Traditional flute methods offer valuable guidance and a wide range of exercises for various sound emission techniques such as flexibility across registers, legato, staccato, and vibrato. What traditional methods often lack, however, is a precise understanding of how these techniques engage relevant body organs to achieve the desired results. Moreover, when referring to sound emission, most methods focus on the visible portion of the muscular action—the embouchure. Taking staccato as an example, while it is evident that the tongue is involved, awareness of how the tongue works in relation to the desired artistic outcome remains relatively unexplored in the old methods. Without examining the precise mechanic action of each organ involved in different sound emission techniques (which exceeds the scope of this work and would require extensive laboratory experiments), I will present here a series of exercises aimed at developing bodily awareness in specific areas. I rely on traditional exercises that provide effective ways to train legato, tonguing, and vibrato; my contribution lies in emphasizing how to perform them with a heightened consciousness of the body’s actions. As Cossette emphasizes, strategies for regulating emission may vary among flutists. I have chosen to focus on the main three bodily areas involved in the processes of sound production: the lips, the throat, and the abdomen, which Giampaolo Pretto discusses in his manual Dentro il suono.219 Specifically, the following exercises aim to develop awareness of these organs, muscles, and actions: § Abdominal and chest muscles (in particular intercostal muscles) for regulating air stream speed 219 Giampaolo Pretto, Dentro il suono (Roma: Riverberi Sonori, 2012), 32-6. 99 § Lips and their different positions to mold the air stream, administer the air needed to produce a given sound, and direct the air stream into the riser. § Throat opening variation as an accessory tool to regulate air stream and change internal cavity resonance. To develop awareness of the abdominal muscles, the two exercises I discuss focus on feeling the air passing through the flutist’s body. In the first one (Aeolian sounds), I blow out a minimal quantity of air, aiming to make the dispersed air around the embouchure hole audible while stabilizing its pitch.220 This exercise enhances my awareness of the lips’ function and teaches effective control and retention of air, as it requires only a minimal quantity and involves passive lip engagement. By retaining air in the lungs, I may feel pressure on the abdominal muscles, aiding in the understanding of their function. In the second exercise (Harmonics), I produce higher pitches by overblowing the fundamental sound for each fingering of the first octave, thus forcing the air into a higher vibrational mode. Producing harmonic involves increasing the pressure of the airstream. 221 This task can be accomplished in various ways, each developing different strengths. Authors such as Peter-Lukas Graf, Robert Dick, Philippe Bernold, and Giampaolo Pretto highlight the usefulness of harmonic exercises for different reasons. Peter-Lukas Graf suggests playing harmonics to adapt the embouchure to different registers.222 Robert Dick lists numerous exercises on harmonic sounds to enhance lip strength and develop embouchure awareness.223 Philippe Bernold also recommends their use as a tool for developing lip muscles.224 Giampaolo Pretto, 220 Aeolian sounds are characterized by a hollow timbre and are produced with a very unfocused airstream, using very little air. See Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 6. 221 Arthur H. Benade, Horns, Strings, and Harmony (New York: Dover, 1992), 223. 222 Peter-Lukas Graf, Check-up: 20 Basic Studies for Flutists (Mainz: Schott, 1991), 30. 223 Robert Dick, Tone Development through Extended Techniques (New York: Multiple Breath, 1986), 14-22. 224 Philippe Bernold, Le souffle, le son (Paris: Gérard Billaudot Editeur, 2016), 25, 32. 100 instead, emphasizes the importance of keeping the embouchure as open as possible while playing harmonics, focusing on varying the direction of the angle of blown air.225 My contribution lies in identifying the specific areas targeted by each method and in elucidating the musical tasks for which each exercise is beneficial. To reinforce the lips, the two exercises I propose enhance awareness of the air passing through the mouth. In the first one, for a given fingering, I jump to the higher harmonic by bringing the lips closer together and making the aperture of the embouchure smaller; this exercise enhances lip musculature as the lips resist and shape the air stream with increased pressure. The second exercise targets the small muscles at the center of the lips (labium superius oris), training them to withstand a consistent and intense airflow. I blow out the air at a regular rate and consistent speed, while progressively reducing the size of the embouchure hole by squeezing the lips, akin to squeezing a straw, playing up the harmonic series, on a sustained sound. This exercise proves beneficial for several reasons. First, it aids me in correlating different lip widths with variations in timbre and loudness, as the aperture of the lip influences sound volume.226 Second, it promotes a physical exploration of the air pressure exerted, determined by the varying closures of the lips.227 Finally, to develop awareness of throat opening variation, for a given fingering, I jump to the higher harmonic without engaging the lips. Instead, I increase air pressure at the laryngeal region by pronouncing a closer vowel, such as “E,” which narrows the throat opening. The heightened pressure is created before the air exits the mouth, maintaining a more neutral embouchure. This exercise promotes awareness of different mouth shapes and investigates the potential for vocalization. 225 Giampaolo Pretto, Dentro il suono (Roma: Riverberi Sonori, 2012), 16-20. 226 As explained in the Appendix, according to flute acoustic, the tone loudness depends both on the structure of the instrument and the action of the player. The latter can modify the air stream and its property mainly by modifications of lips’ shape, opening of the embouchure hole and varying the velocity of the blown air. 227 See Appendix, Arthur H. Benade, Horns, Strings, and Harmony (New York: Dover, 1992), 223. 101 This process of discovering specific proprioceptive bodily feelings related to a given sound has helped me build an embodied memory of the internal actions needed to produce the required sound. This memory can be retrieved on a physical level when needed during a performance, without relying on speculations or abstract theories about what needs to be done. 4.3.1 Intonation According to flute acoustic, stable tuning resides in the ability to keep the balance between air speed and air flow. A comprehensive discussion of the connection between the acoustic properties of the air stream and the bodily actions required to manipulate it is provided in the Appendix. Here, I will focus on the practical aspects of balancing the two parameters. As we just saw, the support provided by abdominal and chest muscles plays a fundamental role in regulating the air blown from the lungs. Other factors influencing air pressure, however, include the lips and the vocal tract. Most flute methods traditionally assign the role of regulating the air stream to the embouchure. Therefore, the exercises in these methods effectively raise awareness of the lips as a tool for controlling air flow. Exercises based on the so-called sons filés, sounds of the third octave played in pp nuance or diminuendo, require significant effort from the lips to maintain tuning.228 When playing these sounds with a neutral vocal tract, the lips have to sustain the sound with great effort to avoid the tuning to fall flat while playing pp in the third octave. Moyse’s Sonorité provides useful recommendations in this direction.229 More recently, however, some flute methods have 228 Philippe Bernold, La technique d’embouchure: 218 exercices pour maîtriser toutes les difficultés liées à l'embouchure de la flûte traversière et acquérir une belle sonorité, 4th ed. (Paris: La Stravaganza, Gérard Billaudot Editeur, 1988), 55. 229 Marcel Moyse, De la sonorité: Art et technique, 8. 102 highlighted the importance of the vocal tract as additional tool for airstream regulation.230 Mouth shapes also influence timbre modification, which is inherently linked to tuning.231 The following two exercises aim to make the flutist aware of how modifying mouth shape through different vowels can influence tuning and timbre, emphasizing different partials of the sound. In the first exercise, I propose to use a tuner as reference to make it easy to detect shifts in the pitch based on modifications of the vocal tract shapes. Despite the wide variety of vowels found in human languages, I have chosen here to simplify by using only the five vowel letters represented in the Italian alphabet: A [a], E[e], I [i], O [o], U [u].232 Figures 6 to 12 show the tuning variations on a B4 while shifting vowels. The green area indicates when the pitch is in tune and the red one when it is flat (on the left) or sharp (on the right). It is evident how the pitch changes considerably according to the vowel pronounced. When singing the vowel “A”, the tuning shifts slightly to the right, sharpening by about 6 cents (see fig.7). This tendency becomes more pronounced when singing “E” (14 cents sharper, fig. 8) and even more so whit “I” (30 cents sharper, fig. 9). Conversely, the opposite tendency is observed when singing “O” (fig. 10) and “U” (fig. 11), with shifts of approximately 18 and 5 cents flatter, respectively. All the images have been obtained by using Tunable application and have been produced by the author. Furthermore, the use of a simple spectrogram program allows to observe the differences in the frequencies that compose the sound spectrum. 230 Robert Dick, Tone Development through Extended Techniques, 9; Giampaolo Pretto, Dentro il suono, 38. 231 As well known, timbre or sound color depends the frequency spectrum, specifically on the relative loudness of each harmonic. As discussed in Chapter 2, according to formant theory, frequency filtering is highly dependent on the shape of resonance cavities. In both singing and flute playing, mouth shapes have the potential to emphasize different frequencies, thereby altering the sound's color, making it either brighter or darker based on whether higher or lower frequencies are amplified. See Bate, The flute, 36-46; Benade, Horns, Strings, and Harmony, 119; Sundberg, The science of the Singing Voice, 113-4. 232 Pietro Maturi, I Suoni delle Lingue, i suoni dell'Italiano, 3rd ed. (Bologna: Il mulino, 2006), 47-55. 103 The figures 12-17 analyze the acoustic components of the same B4 when produced with different vowels. The horizontal lines on x-axis represent the frequency of the harmonics of the spectrum, while the intensity of each line indicates the loudness of that harmonic. The variations in the intensity among the lines, according to the vowels, reveal a distinctive spectrum for each sound, implying a different timbre for each vowel. All the images have been obtained by using SpectrumView application and have been produced by the author. Fig. 6. No vowel: tuning of B4 in the absence of vowels. Fig. 9. Vowel I: tuning of B4 when pronouncing the vowel I. Fig. 7. Vowel A: tuning of B4 when pronouncing the vowel A. Fig. 10. Vowel O: tuning of B4 when pronouncing the vowel O. Fig. 8. Vowel E: tuning of B4 when pronouncing the vowel E. Fig. 11. Vowel U: tuning of B4 when pronouncing the vowel U. 104 A variation of the previous exercise involves two players and highlights the effectiveness of vocalization when tuning with another instrument. The first player produces a sustained sound, for instance a B4, while the second plays a G#4, a minor third below. To achieve a beat-less interval while keeping the root stable, the first player will need to sharpen the B4 by approximately 16 cents above the needle of an electronic tuner. Thinking of pronouncing an “I” can be particularly useful for the first player in adjusting the interval. Conversely, in the case of a major third below, the first player sustains a B4 while the second plays a G4 to form the major third. Here, as the third needs to be flattened about 14 cents Fig. 12. Vowel A: Spectrogram of the frequency spectrum of B4 while pronouncing the vowel A. Fig. 15. Vowel O: Spectrogram of the frequency spectrum of B4 while pronouncing the vowel O. Fig. 13. Vowel E: Spectrogram of the frequency spectrum of B4 while pronouncing the vowel E. Fig. 16. Vowel U: Spectrogram of the frequency spectrum of B4 while pronouncing the vowel U. Fig. 14. Vowel I: Spectrogram of the frequency spectrum of B4 while pronouncing the vowel I Fig. 17. From Vowel A to U. Spectrogram of the frequency spectrum of B4 during the transition from the vowel A to U. 105 below the needle of an electronic tuner, the first player will successfully achieve a beatless interval by thinking of pronouncing an “O.” Building on the tuning refinements of the previous exercise, I tailor my vocalization to address specific challenges I encounter in my daily practice. In particular, I find the tuning of the third octave to be the most challenging, tending to go flat when playing soft and sharp when playing loud. To correct these deviations, I create a smaller mouth space with a close vowel, such as “I”, when playing soft, whereas I use “O” to create more space in the mouth cavity when playing loud.233 In addition to correcting the tuning of the third octave, I also use vocalization to facilitate the emission of the low register, which presents some difficulties. To play low notes, one must direct the airstream vertically toward the head-joint’s edge, which leads to excessive closure of the lips and an unnatural position, causing neck and throat compression and resulting in a forced sound. Open vowels provide a useful corrective to this problem, as does lowering the jaw while thinking of opening space between my upper and lower teeth. Using vowels as a tool to achieve the desired timbre and correct tuning provides a prime example of what I mean by embodied practice. It allows me to establish a precise connection between airspeed, lips opening, resonance, and a distinct proprioceptive feeling in my mouth. This process imprints a specific memory of a given sound in my body, which I can recall when needed. 4.3.2 Legato Maintaining a steady legato requires the flutist to adjust the blowing pressure according to the intervals being played, ensure control over the air flow, and harmonize the different pressures 233 A more detailed analysis of the relation between mouth shapes and acoustical properties of the flute sound is found in the Appendix. 106 that characterize each sound. When executing legato passages across octaves, the technique of smoothly connecting sounds separated by large intervals is called “flexibility”. The adjustment in the required flow and air pressure increases with the size of the interval being played. Besides the fundamental action of breath support in maintaining a constant air flow, a good legato is achieved either by means of lips and embouchure or by taking advantage of the properties of the vocal tract. Traditional methods are valuable for enhancing awareness of one’s lips, the conventional approach to legato technique since the work of Taffanel & Gaubert and Moyse. Specifically, Moyse’s exercises on flexibility in Sonorité offer an excellent means to understand the lips’ role in shaping and directing air flow across octaves, while striving to maintain sound and timbre homogeneity in large intervals. As the authors suggest, each note should be produced by adjusting the lips’ pressure, as illustrated in ex. 19. Example 19. Moyse, De la sonorité: Art et technique, (Paris: Leduc, 1934), 18. Regarding the role of the vocal tract in legato technique, I have found it beneficial to integrate exercises that involve simultaneous singing and playing, as developed by Robert 107 Dick and Giampaolo Pretto. Ex. 20 shows a possible application of the technique as it suggests playing a sustained note with the flute, while singing a scale with the voice. Example 20. Pretto, singing and playing, Dentro il suono, (Roma: Riverberi Sonori, 2012), 39. Singing and playing simultaneously helps me recognize the influence of the vocal folds on my playing and teaches me how to manage the outgoing air more effectively. When singing, the vocal folds adduct, restricting the quantity of air passing through the glottis. This exercise is particularly useful when playing piano in the third octave, because it requires minimal air flow. The exercise is beneficial also because the slow release of air exerts pressure on the abdominal muscles, facilitating awareness of their function. This sensation can be linked to the concept of supporting the sound, as a way to ensure the air flow’s steady and regular release through the use of glottis as a valve. If different vowels are alternated while singing, this exercise also helps me experience various internal resonances. To experience the effect of different throat widths in relation to sound intensity, I incorporate vowels while playing legato scales or arpeggiations. I choose open vowels for louder emissions and closer vowels for refining softer nuances. D.S. Wood’s studies are valuable in this regard, as they feature upper sections of scales in different meters and tempos; they also provide a good example of how to combine finger training with emission practice, as ex. 21 and 22 exemplify. 108 Example 21. Wood, Studies for Facilitating the Execution of the Upper Notes of the Flute, (Massachusetts: Carl Fischer Music Publisher, 1966), 14. Example 22. Wood, Studies for Facilitating the Execution of the Upper Notes of the Flute, 20. The same focus on internal awareness applies to exercises on flexibility, where I direct my attention to adjustments happening inside the mouth. Instead of relying only on lips work, here I adopt what may be called “internal flexibility,” the ability to modify the air stream by shaping mouth’s cavity. The immediate application of internal flexibility is the practice of arpeggiations, especially across octaves. The adjustment in air pressure and flow is more challenging when done quickly, as in fast passages, or when the interval between the 109 notes is wide, and it requires a substantial alteration of air stream parameters. In my daily practice, I use Philippe Bernold’s Vocalises, which offer a great variety of intervals’ combination and keys as well as examples from the repertoire, linking closely the development of technical skills to their application to music. Ex. 23, from Philippe Bernold, presents ascending and descending arpeggiations of different amplitude, training flutists to adjust the relation between air quantity and air pressure: increasing air pressure is needed for upward motion, decreasing it for downward motion. The transposition of the exercise up one semitone at a time leads to gradually develop resistance and support, especially in the second and third octave. As I practice them maintaining the focus on internal adjustments of mouth shaping, they represent a good example of embodiment of emission technique. Example 23. Bernold, La technique d’embouchure: 218 exercices pour maîtriser toutes les difficultés liées à l'embouchure de la flûte traversière et acquérir une belle sonorité, 4th ed. (Paris: La Stravaganza, Gérard Billaudot Editeur, 1988), 10. Progressively, I incorporate vocalises with increasing interval spans, as proposed by ex. 24, presented by Bernold: 110 Example 24. Bernold, La technique d’embouchure, 23. My focus in embodying these vocalises centers around two key elements. The first one is variation of airstream direction. Here I vary the angle at which I direct the air according to melodic motion, adjusting the position of my jaw (dropping for low notes, raising for high pitches) and using different vowels. My second focus is mouth sensation. Here I explore different mouth shapes according to dynamics and register. For each interval, I pay attention to the proprioceptive feeling of my mouth according to the movement of the jaw, to how air pressure changes between the two notes of the interval, and to their effect on the embouchure and abdominal wall. For example, a major second involves a smaller jaw movement than a major seventh. Furthermore, when playing a crescendo, the need to increase air-flow demands more space in the mouth to balance the tuning and prevent sharpness. Conversely, when playing a diminuendo, reducing the space inside my mouth is necessary to prevent flattening. When I play exercises for internal flexibility, I use a digital tuner for reference. However, just like the metronome, the tuner offers little benefit unless it contributes to building awareness of bodily sensations that can be recalled when the device is turned off. Thus, my use of the tuner involves actively feeling and memorizing the corresponding sensations in my mouth and lips when the sound is in tune. 111 4.3.3 Staccato Staccato can be achieved either by blowing a single air puff for each sound or by interrupting a continuous air-flow into chunks of sound. In the first case, the entire emission apparatus is involved. In the second, the interruption of the air stream is caused by the obstruction of the vocal tract, either via the tongue or the lips. In flute playing, one may sometimes use only the lips to attack and interrupt a sound, similar to pronouncing the consonant “p.”234 The tongue, however, remains primarily responsible for staccato technique. By segmenting the air stream, the tongue provides definition to the sound, depending on which portion is used and how. A wide variety of tongue strokes were used in the Baroque era, where flutists employed different consonant sounds.235 In the contemporary repertoire, extended techniques have significantly expanded the types of staccato sounds, challenging flutists to produce sounds of all sort.236 Consequently, understanding how the tongue works is crucial, as its use differs based on the different degrees of definition required by the scores, allowing for the expansion of artistic possibilities. Depending on where the vocal tract is obstructed and how it happens, the resulting sound differs. Linguistics defines sounds obtained by the obstruction of the vocal tract as consonants, and categorizes them according to their place and manner of articulation. The first place of articulation is at the front of the mouth with the lips, and the articulation progressively moves backwards to the glottis, according to the International Phonetic Alphabet.237 According to linguistic studies, both the body of the tongue and its tip allow for 234 Michel Debost, The Simple Flute: An A to Z Guide (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 27. 235Johan Joachim Quantz, On Playing the Flute, trans. Edward R. Reilly (London: Faber and Faber, 1966), 71-86. It was first published in German as Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (Berlin, 1752). 236 Philip Bate, The Flute: A Study of Its History, Development and Construction, 2nd ed. (London: Benn, 1979), 242-5. 237 Catherine Anderson, Essentials of Linguistics (Hamilton: McMaster University eCampus Ontario Open Textbook Library, 2018), 62-71. 112 the production of different consonant sounds. The consonants most commonly used for staccato in flute playing are “t” and “d”. We produce these sounds by striking the tongue against the alveolar ridge located on the hard palate just behind the teeth.238 While single tonguing primarily involves the tongue’s tip against the teeth, double tonguing also actively engages the back of the tongue. In double tonguing, the first strike uses the tip, the second uses the tongue’s body moving against the velum, thus producing the sounds “k” and “g”.239 While the role of the tongue in relation to vocal tract resonance, lips, and vocal folds has not yet fully studied by specialists, I propose here a series of exercises that combine tongue’s strokes and the shaping of mouth cavities.240 As shown by my exploration of various mouth shapes and their resulting resonances, each configuration of the articulators produces a different acoustic output. As discussed earlier, this alteration of the mouth cavity leads to a unique selection of harmonics in the sound spectrum, resulting in a modification of timbre. Experimenting with how the tongue interacts with mouth cavities and air stream serves as a starting point to associate the sensation of the tongue with the resulting sounds.241 The following exercises on repeated notes aim to expand awareness of the different articulations produced by various tongue actions and mouth-shape combinations. I play a sequence of repeated eighth notes and experiment with pronouncing different consonants, as showed in ex. 25. Attuning to proprioception, I identify which part of tongue I am using and where it strikes during each articulation. Additionally, I try different combinations of consonants and vowels on a same note, such as: tu-tu-tu-tu, te-te-te-te, du-du-du-du, 238 Anderson, Essentials of Linguistics, 64. 239 Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 2nd ed. (Maryland: Rowan and Littlefield, 2019), 72. 240 Trollinger and Sataloff, “Respiratory Behaviors and Vocal Tract Issues in Wind Instrumentalists, Part 2,” Journal of Singing 76, no. 3 (2020): 291. 241 This approach is also supported by Robert Dick observations on mouth resonance and tonguing. Robert Dick, Tone Development through Extended Techniques (New York: Multiple Breath, 1986), 12-13. 113 or de-de-de-de. I utilize a tuner as a reference to assess whether different articulations affect tuning and, if so, in what manner Example 25. Consonants and vowels variation on repeated notes One particular type of articulation, detaché, produces gently separated sounds while maintaining an overall sense of unity in phrasing. The goal is to sustain the emission as if playing legato but pronounce each note with a gentle stroke of the tongue. The regularity of the strokes required for this articulation is achieved by placing the tongue in the same position consistently. Therefore, control over the placement point and regularity of the tongue’s movement is crucial. Mathieu André Reichert provides relevant exercises that explore all major and minor keys, as presented in ex. 26. Their extension across multiple octaves allows for the integration of tongue training with the challenges of adapting emission to different registers. A more open vowel can facilitate the tongue’s stroke in the low register, whereas a close vowel can aid in keeping the register sounds in tune while preserving clarity of pronunciation. Example 26. Reichert, Sept exercises journaliers pour la flûte, Op.5 (Mainz: B. Schott Söhne, 1872), 1.                  dedetetutu detutu tetetete dete de de dedudududute te detu tu tu tu dudududu 114 Another technique involves a dual action of the tongue: double tonguing. While the tip pronounces the consonant “t” or “d” against the front teeth, the body of the tongue strikes the velum pronouncing a “k” or “g”. Since the tongue works more intensely in double tonguing, this technique can lead to fatigue, resulting in stiffness and excessive tension in the throat (to which the tongue is attached). This tension may adversely affect the quality of the sound. To find the internal mouth position that leads to the clearest articulation without tensing the throat, I experiment with different vowels, alternating strokes on the teeth and the velum, as shown in example 27. Example 27. Vowels variation on double tonguing. The exercise in ex. 28 focuses on producing short bursts of air without using the lips or tongue for articulation, aiming for a staccato that is full and rich in harmonics. This technique involves the movement of the abdominal muscles to achieve a strong attack. It is accomplished “by taking a breath in and using the abdominal muscles to kick the airstream, rather like a dog barking.”242 However, due to a common misconception, this action has sometimes been attributed to the diaphragm rather than the abdominal muscles. Some flute methods, such as Bernold’s La technique d’embouchure, and Pretto’s Dentro il suono, propose exercises on air puffs, presenting them as a way to train the diaphragm.243 More accurately, Trevor Wye acknowledges the role of the abdominal muscles in producing 242 Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 2nd ed. (Maryland: Rowan and Littlefield Publishers, 2019), 3. 243 Bernold, La technique d’embouchure, 72; Pretto, Dentro il suono, 36.                  degetekutu gekutu teketeke gete de ge deguduguduke ke detu ku tuku gudugudu 115 separate sounds.244 The exercise I propose is essentially the same but emphasizes the role of the abdominal muscles in expelling air, as well as mouth cavity awareness. Indeed, as the speed of the strokes increases, the abdominal muscles may no longer provide sufficient support for each note, and in such cases, control of the air column shifts to the mouth cavity. Here, the importance of embodiment lies in the flutist ability to develop fine-tuned internal physical awareness in order to adapt the production of air puffs from the abdominal area to the laryngeal area. The following exercise is taken from Reichert. It offers a harmonic framework useful for training air puffs across octaves and different keys, with each note of the quadruplet produced by a single burst of air. Example 28. Reichert, Sept exercises journaliers pour la flûte, Op.5 (Mainz: B. Schott Söhne, 1872), 3. The staccato produced by air puffs tends to have poor definition, as the tongue is not involved. A variation of the exercise just proposed, where the lips help direct the air stream into the flute riser, results in a more defined sound and also strengthens the lip muscles. Another technique that trains a specific type of articulation in the flute is “pizzicato.” This technique involves a specific kind of articulation that produces a resonant sound, which Pretto calls “bell sound” and explores extensively in his method.245 The pizzicato consists of 244 Trevor Wye, Practice Book for the Flute: Books 1-6. Book 3, Articulation (London: Novello, 2014), 98. 245 Pretto, Dentro il suono, 9-11. 116 forceful strikes executed by the tongue on the front teeth, resonating the air already present in the mouth cavity without emitting additional air. Playing this way has proven useful in developing awareness of the quantity of air in the mouth and how to balance it in response to the strength of the tongue’s strokes. This approach proves particularly effective in baroque repertoire and in all other instances where the score suggests a polyphonic use of the flute, emphasizing the bass line. In this repertoire, such as Telemann’s Fantasies for solo flute or Carl Philip Emanuel Bach Solo Flute Sonata, the flute assumes a polyphonic role and mimics bass harmonic support, and thus a resonating pizzicato helps accentuate the implied harmonic line. The opening fragment of Carl Philip Emanuel Bach’s Solo Flute Sonata (ex. 29) exemplifies the flute’s polyphonic role, with the first eighth note of each bar emphasizing the harmony, while the remaining notes carry the melody. The harmony notes are marked with a dot above them, indicating they should be played short. Employing the pizzicato technique enhances their resonance, mimicking the sound of an imaginary bass string instrument. Example 29. Carl Philip Emanuel Bach, Sonata in A minor for Solo Flute, Wq 132 (1747), ed. Andrea Bornstein (Creative Commons Attribution, 2017), mm. 1-6. My choice of the kind of staccato to be used in a given piece depends on the musical style of the work, and it involves stylistic and aesthetic considerations that, for reasons of space, I cannot address here. Nevertheless, distinct repertoires require different techniques. For instance, when playing the flute solo from Felix Mendelssohn Midsummer Night’s Dream, the recommended approach is detaché. The melody consists of long passages of ascending and descending diatonic scales, suggesting a long phrase to be delivered as a unit, 117 as shown in the solo fragment in ex. 30. In this context, employing a gentle mode of attack convey the continuity of the longer musical phrase. Example 30. Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Midsummer Night’s Dream, Op. 61 (Leipzig: Breitkopf&Härtel, 1874-82), mm. 338-385. Flutists will benefit from mastering precise control of tongue movements, consciously adapting its use with varying degrees of definition to suit the specific demand of different musical styles. Developing a fully embodied proprioceptive awareness of the tongue is thus not only essential for achieving technical mastery but also for unlocking the flutist’s full artistic potential and expanding their expressive capabilities across diverse repertoires. 118 4.3.4 Vibrato Vibrato is a technique of emission that enhances the expressivity of the flute sound. Acoustically, it involves a periodic variation of both intensity and pitch. Similar to staccato, vibrato can be achieved through different methods, activating different organs to obtain differences in speed and width.246 Most flute methods lack explicit instructions on how to produce vibrato. As with other aspects of flute technique, however, there is an ongoing debate among flutists on the correct use of abdominal muscles and the potential misuse of the throat in vibrato production.247 Recent research, such as the study conducted by Erika Boysen and David Brown, provides a new understanding of the laryngeal production of vibrato. This investigation, grounded on laboratory observations, demonstrates that vocal folds are involved in vibrato production and it contributes to a deeper understanding of the anatomical aspects behind its execution. Notably, the research supports the idea that the abdominal muscles activate the ones in the laryngeal area, that are thus enabled to actively control vibrato.248 This valuable observation calls for a more conscious and informed approach to vibrato production. Thus, a greater awareness of the specific body parts involved in various vibrato types becomes paramount. 246 Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 302. 247 For an overview of vibrato history and related techniques, see Nancy Toff, The Flute Book: A Complete Guide for Students and Performers, 3rd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 118-126. Concerning the flute methods, the ones analyzed in the flute literature made in the previous chapters tend to neglect the description on how to realize vibrato, with only a few offering any substantial guidance. For example, Bernold affirms that vibrato is a recent technique appeared only at the beginning of the 20th century, mainly produced by the throat, which use is not recommended while playing exercises on emission’s control. Graf describes vibrato as the product of quick rhythmic impulses, not specifying how to make them. Wye digs deeper in the topic, stressing the need of approaching vibrato through a systematic learning. He lists a series of exercises aiming to develop different vibrato techniques to be realized through lips, diaphragm and throat. Pretto suggests using tuning variation while singing in order to impress in the vocal folds the memory of pitch variation. See Toff, The Flute Book: A Complete Guide for Students and Performers, 3rd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 118-26; Bernold, Le souffle, le son, 72; Graf, Check-up, 40-41; Wye, Practice Book for the Flute: Books 1-6. Book 4, Intonation and Vibrato, 137-141; Pretto, Dentro il suono, 58-9. 248 Erika Boysen and David Brown, “Mapping Anatomical Locators for Musicians: Laryngeal Vibrato Production in Flutists,” The Flutist Quarterly 46, no. 3 (2021): 20-7. 119 To heighten awareness of vibrato production, I found that two exercises have contributed to enhance my engagement of abdominal muscles and throat. The first is similar to an above-mentioned exercise on staccato, and uses abdominal muscles to set the air column into vibration. I draw on the suggestions of several flute teachers and on the idea, widely shared by flutists, that vibrato comes from the abdominal area. The exercise primarily involves exciting the air column to produce regular wobbles at a progressively increasing speed by means of the abdominal muscles. Starting from a plain note, the abdominal muscles exert rhythmic impulses on the air column, producing wobbles of sound, in a progressively faster way, as in ex. 31. A similar exercise is mentioned by Trevor Wye.249 However, there is potential confusion in his reference to the diaphragm and singing technique. In my practice, I perform this exercise with a strong focus on the abdominal muscles, with proprioceptive attention to their role in producing the quick rise and fall in pitch corresponding to increase and decrease in air volume, in turn regulated by the abdominal impulse. In the following exercise, each note should be produced via an impulse from the abdomen. Example 31. Abdominal impulses for vibrato The second exercise is taken from Giampaolo Pretto’s book, and it is intended to foster a thoughtful use of the throat in vibrato production through singing. As ex. 32 shows, the exercise centers on singing descending and ascending semitones while sustaining a steady note on the flute, at a progressively faster speed. By oscillating the air column in the larynx area, the singing voice serves to imprint in the vocal folds’ memory the movement required to 249 Trevor Wye, Practice Book for the Flute: Books 1-6. Book 4, Intonation and Vibrato, (London: Novello, 2014), 138.              120 achieve vibrato. According to Pretto, singing the descending semitone adds depth to the resulting vibrato sound, while the ascending one enhances the sound’s brightness.250 Example 32. Pretto, singing and playing for vibrato, Dentro il suono, 58. As previously mentioned in my discussion of staccato, knowledge and control of the processes involved in vibrato production facilitate the flutist’s ability to expand their artistic possibilities according to the desired music outcome. 250 Pretto, Dentro il suono, 58. 121 4.4 The Emotional Component In addition to considering the practicality of flute technique within the context of an embodied practice, I have also devoted a few considerations to the influence of the emotional component. Confidence plays a crucial role in achieving successful practice sessions. While this notion is familiar, maintaining confidence in—and being satisfied with—the results of daily practice can be challenging, especially in situations of continuous skill refinement such as those required in professional instrumental practice. While confidence in performance and practice depends on multiple factors, mastering the instrument and its technical challenges serves as a solid foundation for building positivity and control. In my contemplation of instrumental embodiment, I have pondered whether embodied techniques can enhance confidence in my abilities and empower me as a musician. While this topic warrants further analysis beyond the scope of this dissertation, I wish to offer some reflections. The emotional component of practicing can yield both positive and negative outcomes, leading to either arousal or fear. According to recent research in performance science conducted by Liliana Araujo and Claudia Spahn, fear may paralyze the musician, ultimately leading to poor performance, while positive arousal can sharpen focus and increase alertness, enhancing a sense of control.251 This particular aspect of performance is intimately linked to musicians’ wellness, and has recently received attention from scholars. In particular, researchers in performance science and psychology have focused on performance anxiety, but the emotional outcome of daily practice has yet to be thoroughly investigated. Recent research in the field, however, suggests that an unorganized approach to practice can result in the assimilation of incorrect methods, leading to a waste of time and of motivational and 251 Liliana Araújo and Claudia Spahn “Promoting Health-Related Lifestyle,” in The Oxford Handbook of Music Performance, ed. Gary E. McPherson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022), 2:286. 122 emotional resources.252 Conversely, as Liliana Araujo writes, “adding positive emotions such as enjoyment and positive attitude … contributes to healthier and more effective practice, hence increasing confidence and motivation.”253 In his research on practical approaches to achieving expertise, Peter Miksza emphasizes that reaching the stage of expertise relies not only on technical mastery, but also on control over performance. The study of cognitive processes has highlighted various methods to increase focus and attention. Among these methods, addressing mistakes and technical issues has the overarching goal of alleviating learning fatigue and preparing the musician to be “more flexible in the moment of the performance or more able to react to secondary tasks.”254 In my daily practice, I have observed that the fear of failure or the inability to complete a task can have negative outcomes in my daily practice, even during those solitary sessions away from the judgmental ear of a teacher or an audience. This fear often leads to a loss of muscular control and a general feeling of stiffness. Consequently, it becomes much more difficult to control the micro-movements of my fingers and make the internal adjustments required to play in tune and at the desired dynamic. My daily annotations provide several instances not only of the fear of failing difficult passages, such as rapid fingerings switches in the third register, but also of losing control in seemingly less challenging moments, which can trigger an emotional response of tension, thereby contributing to increased stress during practice. My physical reaction to fear varies according to the specific technical challenge I have to face. When the problem relates to fingerings, a common reaction is that my fingers freeze, failing to respond to the actions they should perform as if my mind cannot execute the 252 Peter Miksza “Practice,” in The Oxford Handbook of Music Performance, 1:153-73. 253 Araujo and Spahn, “Promoting Health-Related Lifestyle,” 290. 254 Miksza, “Practice,”164. 123 motor scheme accurately. Conversely, if the difficulty consists of an emission issue and demands fine control by the mouth cavities, throat and lips—such as when playing pianissimo in the third octave—my reaction to fear manifests itself as excessive tension in the throat and lips. This observation aligns with the findings of Shuntaro Kotani and Shinichi Furuya on the relationship between anxiety and dexterity. In their study, they emphasize how stress-related situations can compromise the finger coordination and degrade fine motor control. Among the factors that influence dexterity, they include the vulnerability of attention and working memory in reaction to stress.255 While Kotani and Furuya’s study focuses on finger actions during piano performance, it provides insights for further research tailored to flute practice as well. I have also noticed that, even after repeatedly working on a technical passage and having solved it out its context, the issue often reappears when I integrate the challenging passage into the broader musical context. The inability to solve the problem effectively, even after spending a fair amount of time working on it, leads to a spiraling process of fear for the specific passage, accompanied by a general sense of frustration, low self-esteem, and lack of confidence in my abilities. On an emotional level, this sense of failure and frustration is what the psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls “psychic entropy”, “a disorganization of the self that impairs its effectiveness” that can even lead to inability to focus and reach intended goals.256 This sense of inadequacy in performing a highly skilled task contrasts with the experience of flow, a “lacking the sense of worry about losing control”.257 According to Csikszentmihalyi, a fundamental element in building an optimal experience is self-awareness 255 Shuntaro Kotani and Shinichi Furuya, “State Anxiety Disorganizes Finger Movements during Musical Performance,” Journal of Neurophysiology 120, no. 2 (January 2018): 439-451. 256 Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Classic Work on How to Achieve Happiness; with a New Introduction by the Author (London: Rider, 2002), 37. 257 Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Classic Work on How to Achieve Happiness, 59. 124 and emotional control, allowing individuals to maintain control of their consciousness.258 In highly skilled activities such as music making, the ability to control consciousness determines “the ability to focus attention at will, to be oblivious to distractions, to concentrate for as long as it takes to achieve a goal”.259 I have discussed above an approach to solving difficult passages that I also find useful in coping with emotional challenges: breaking down the problem in smaller components, isolating the challenging passage, and practicing it at different tempi and with different rhythmic patterns. Likewise, once the isolated passage has been mastered, I consolidate the new motor scheme by gradually reintegrating the passage into larger sections of the score, because solving the specific challenge in isolation does not guarantee that I will be able to perform it correctly when playing the entire piece from start to finish. This approach, that aligns with Miksza’s discussion of chunking and chaining passages together during the learning process, not only aids technical problem-solving but also reinforces a sense of control and confidence, which in turn helps manage the emotional challenges that can otherwise disrupt performance.260 The importance of maintaining awareness of one’s emotional state during practice sessions is underscored by Liliana Araújo in her study on musicians’ well-being.261 Of particular relevance to my research is Araujo’s statement that “regular practice of body-oriented approaches allows controlled repatterning or relearning of movements that may have rigidified or created imbalances caused by several years of instrumental playing.”262 By suggesting to integrate the emotional awareness into the broader context of music embodiment techniques, Araújo’s recommendations represent the link between artistic 258 Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Classic Work on How to Achieve Happiness, 25. 259 Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Classic Work on How to Achieve Happiness, 31. 260 Miksza, “Practice,” 164. 261 Araújo and Spahn “Promoting Health-Related Lifestyle,” 291. 262 Araújo and Spahn “Promoting Health-Related Lifestyle,” 292. 125 practice and the framework of embodied cognition, which I have been trying to apply to flute practice. As it is evident from the analysis of my practice conducted in these pages, the primary focus across all the areas I considered is awareness, whether of micro-movements and internal processes or of emotional states. In terms of personal practice, becoming conscious of covert processes involved in producing the desired sounds enriches all the exercises that were already part of my routine with a new and meaningful perspective. Embodied awareness enhances my ability to solve technical problems by understanding emission issues from their origin rather than merely observing their result. This newfound independence in problem-solving has allowed me to adapt the tools acquired over years of practice to different situations and even invent new exercises. These developments have not only enhanced my personal practice but also equipped me with effective solutions to guide my students. In teaching, the focus shifts to helping students explore their feelings and bodily sensations in relation to their desired outcomes, acknowledging the highly personal nature of each individual’s body. Furthermore, a heightened consciousness and understanding of the covered physiological processes have allowed me to get a clearer sense of previously overlooked techniques of emission control and dispel taboos around throat use, vocalization, mouth shape variation, and internal flexibility. This expanded awareness translates into a broader array of tools available to me to achieve artistic results. The practice model outlined in this chapter, moreover, aligns with new general paradigms of the embodied approach to music practice that center on consciousness of movements and processes related to the music-making activity. The goal of all the exercises I proposed above is to keep the focus on bodily sensations as an intermediate step toward internalizing gestures, ultimately aiming to diminish my perception of the instrument as something separate from my body. 126 In this framework, embodied flute practice is both theoretically grounded and physically experienced in daily practice. It embraces a perspective wherein there is not a part of our being that is prevalent on another one. Mental components such as theoretical structures and abstractions are instead strictly interconnected with sensory-motor approaches in a system that continuously bridges the two and improves itself thanks to the exchange with the environment. The cognitive functions of the performer’s mind aid in understanding the internal and physiological processes that would otherwise remain hidden from awareness. 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Sonata for Flute and Piano, op.94. Frankfurt: Peters Edition, after 1991. Sciarrino, Salvatore. L’opera per Flauto. Milano: Ricordi, 1990. Websites Laurel Irene and David Harris, “Voice Science Works,” Harmonics VS. Formants, https://www.voicescienceworks.org/harmonics-vs-formants.html. Wolfe, Joe. “Air speed and blowing pressure in woodwind and brass instruments: how important are they?” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/air-speed.html 137 Wolfe, Joe. “Flute acoustics: an introduction to how a flute works,” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/fluteacoustics.html Chen Hsue Chu, Rebecca. “Formants of Vowels,” https://corpus.eduhk.hk/english_pronunciation/index.php/2-2-formants-of-vowels/ 138 Appendix EMISSION AND FLUTE ACOUSTICS In this thesis, I have described how air emission and breathing are strictly related, analyzing the underlying physiological processes and validating the parallel between flute playing and singing. This appendix aims to clarify the relationship between the flute’s acoustics, sounds parameters, and the bodily actions available to flutists for modifying sound. Flutists learn from the beginning of their training that two elements of air stream are essential to determine sound intensity, pitch, and timbre: air quantity and air pressure. How one should regulate these two elements, however, is not always clear. While air flow is simply the air flutists blow against the flute edge to produce a sound, the methods for controlling it—and for teaching players how to manage it—vary greatly depending on individual teachers and flute schools. These approaches can differ significantly. As Isabelle Cossette and her colleagues emphasize, the control of air stream includes dosing air pressure and speed, linked to the so-called “breath support.”263 The phrase “breath support” itself, however, suffers from terminological confusion. According to Susan Maclagan, “breath support” is an enigmatic expression that means different activities to different players. Broadly, most would agree that it is the control and manipulation of airspeed and/or that it is the control of the pressure behind the breath, but there is controversy about how this should be achieved. Physically, many believe it 263 Isabelle Cossette, Pierpaolo Monaco, Andrea Aliverti, and Peter T. Macklem, “Chest Wall Dynamics and Muscle Recruitment during Professional Flute Playing,” Respiratory Physiology & Neurobiology 160, no. 2 (2008): 187. 139 involves the use of the abdominal muscles (which some incorrectly refer to as the “diaphragm”) to maintain pressure behind the air column. Some insist that it is also the use of the chest musculature in addition to the abdominal area to maintain this pressure. Others believe that the pressure should be controlled by the pharyngeal muscles and the tongue. Some believe that muscular contraction is not necessary and that the pressure can be accomplished by breathing normally. Another approach is to consider support as a whole-body activity, not isolated in one location.264 Examining the issue from an acoustic perspective will help clarify what the terms mean and create a common ground that bridges the gap between scientific understanding and practical application. Physical acoustics shows that the quantity of air blown out and its pressure are two closely related but distinct elements of air flow. In acoustic terms, air quantity is properly labeled “air flow rate,” measured in litres per second. Air pressure is directly related to “air speed,” how fast the air is blown, measured in meters per second. The flow of air passing through a pipe increases either when the cross-sectional area is enlarged, or when the air speed is increased.265 Managing and generating the necessary pressure is a complex process, involving the coordination of various muscles both in the torso and in the area of the mouth, to ensure a smooth increase, a consistent supply, and a gradual decrease in pressure for each note. When a flutist blows, the muscles in their torso increase the air pressure in the lungs and mouth. In the mouth, the blowing pressure drives the air to move quickly between the lips, and the kinetic energy of this 264 Susan J. Maclagan, A Dictionary for the Modern Flutist, 2nd ed. (Lanham: Rowan and Littlefield, 2019), 34. 265 The cross-sectional area refers to the size of the stream of air as it exits the lips or another opening. 140 fast-moving air is approximately equal to the energy provided by the blowing pressure. When air flows rapidly between the flutist’s lips, the pressure inside the mouth is higher than the pressure outside or inside the instrument, both of which are near atmospheric pressure. If the flutists blocks the air passage with their tongue or lips, the air stream stops, and the air speed drops to zero, even though the pressure in the mouth remains high.266 At the torso level, as described in Ch. 2, when the lungs are near their maximum capacity, the natural elasticity of the expanded torso works to contract the lungs and push air out. This elastic action can be assisted by the muscles responsible for exhalation if more force is required. Conversely, when lung volume is low, the torso’s elasticity tends to expand the lungs, creating a slight vacuum, which means additional muscular effort is needed to exhale under these conditions. The diaphragm, a muscle typically used for inhalation, may also be engaged to decrease or control the blowing pressure, particularly when very low pressure is needed for soft playing while the lungs are still full. Isabelle Cossette and her team provide detailed explanation of the relationship between the air pressure at the mouth (Pm), the area of embouchure created by the lips (Aem) and the abdominal muscles. They describe how Pm is created by passive and active forces in the abdominal area. Simply put, the natural tendency of the lungs and chest to return to their resting position after inhalation (elastic recoil pressure), is counterbalanced by the active contribution of respiratory muscles, such as the intercostal muscles, which contract or relax to regulate air stream energy and speed. The elastic recoil pressure depends on lung volume, while the active pressure exerted by the intercostal muscles is determined by the respiratory efforts. As a result, “for a 266 Joe Wolfe, “Air speed and blowing pressure in woodwind and brass instruments: how important are they?” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/air-speed.html 141 given recoil pressure of the respiratory system, the flutist can decrease Pm by recruiting inspiratory muscles or increase Pm by recruiting expiratory muscles.”267 According to Cossette Pm can also be reduced by “narrowing the glottis rather than by inspiratory braking.”268 Controlling Pm is important because it influences pitch, just as Aem does. The latter is independent of Pm and can vary according to lips’ aperture. While Pm and Aem can vary independently, their relationship determines the velocity of the air stream across the lips.269 Flow rate and speed are important elements because they influence the acoustic properties of the sound including pitch, tuning and loudness. As seen, flutists have practical ways to control these aspects by adjusting their emission. According to the physics governing flute acoustics, however, the sound’s acoustic properties result not solely from the flutist’s actions, but from a complex interaction between instrument and player, since the air stream blown by the flutist oscillates in cooperation with the resonant properties of the air column inside the instrument.270 On the one hand, the flute bore has its own resonances, corresponding to the ratio of the harmonics. Factors that influence the flute’s resonance include the structure and alloy of the instrument, the open and closed holes, the temperature, and the composition of the air column inside the flute. 271 On the other hand, “the air jet has its own natural frequency that depends on the speed and the length of the jet.”272 The interaction between the air blown into the 267 Isabelle Cossette, Pawel Sliwinski, and Peter T. Macklem, “Respiratory parameters during professional flute playing,” Respiration Physiology 121, no.1 (2000): 34. 268 Cossette, Sliwinski, and Macklem “Respiratory parameters during professional flute playing,” 43. 269 Cossette, Sliwinski, and Macklem “Respiratory parameters during professional flute playing,” 34. 270 John W. Coltman, “Resonance and Sounding Frequencies of the Flute,” The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America 40, no. 1 (1966): 101. 271 Coltman, “Resonance and sounding Frequencies of the Flute,” 101. 272 Joe Wolfe, “Flute acoustics: an introduction to how a flute works,” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/fluteacoustics.html 142 flute and the flute’s resonant system has a direct impact on the sound produced. If the frequency of the note being played matches the frequency of the air vibrations produced by the flutist’s airstream at a certain speed, the resulting sound is amplified, producing a sustained note.273 Among the properties of the air stream, its pressure (related to its speed, as seen) is particularly important, because its variations have repercussion on pitch frequency, legato and even phrasing.274 One of the most evident consequences of air stream pressure variation is the change in register for a given fingering. For each fingering, corresponding to a particular combination of closed keys, the flute can produce different sounds on the harmonics sequence depending on the vibrational mode it is set to. The vibrational mode describes how the air stream vibrates, and it corresponds to the harmonics that a flutist is able to produce with a given fingering, by changing the blowing pressure.275 Neville Fletcher explains that “a competent flute player can play at will any of the first six modes on a flute with all finger holes closed, simply by adjusting blowing pressure and jet length.”276 To toggle between different upper harmonics the flutist needs to modify “the velocity and angle of the blown air,” as Arthur Benade points out.277 According to John Coltman, to increase the speed of the airstream and shift register, the flutist can press the lips together while moving them closer to the mouthpiece, which raises air pressure and sets the jet into a higher vibrational mode.278 This register shift also involves reducing the coverage of the embouchure hole, which helps raise 273 Joe Wolfe, “Flute acoustics: an introduction to how a flute works,” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/fluteacoustics.html 274 Joe Wolfe, “Air speed and blowing pressure in woodwind and brass instruments: how important are they?” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/air-speed.html 275 Joe Wolfe, “Strings, standing waves and harmonics” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/air-speed.html 276 Neville H. Fletcher and Thomas D. Rossing, The Physics of Musical Instruments, 2nd ed. (New York: Springer-Verla, 1998), 546. 277 Arthur H. Benade, Horns, Strings, and Harmony, (1960; repr., New York: Dover, 2014), 223. 278 Coltman, “Resonance and sounding Frequencies of the Flute,” 106. 143 the stream’s velocity.279 Additionally, when the lips move closer to the edge, the jet length decreases, facilitating the shift to the higher vibrational mode.280 As well as Coltman, Fletcher also highlights the importance of lip configuration in producing and controlling the air stream, including its pressure. Key variables include the width and height of the lip aperture, the jet length, and the blowing angle.281 Lip configuration also influences loudness: a larger embouchure hole aids in producing loud low notes, while a smaller one is more suitable for high notes or softer sounds.282 Coltman further suggests that to strengthen the low register, flutists should use a wider orifice and a more open embouchure.283 On the topic of the low register, Fletcher conducted a study among four flutists to explore the relationship between harmonic spectrum (the combination of all the frequencies that contribute to the resulting sound) of the low register and performance technique. He found that the intensity of partials varies in loud and soft playing based on blowing pressure levels. Specifically, in loud playing, the fundamental partial is weaker than the second and third harmonics; however, in soft playing, the fundamental matches the upper partials’ intensity, due to the reduction in the second and third harmonics’ strength. This effect is amplified if the flutist also decreases the blowing pressure. In simple terms, to maintain a rich tone with prominent second and third harmonics, the flutist need to keep the blowing pressure steady, even when playing soft.284 Differences in pressure do not only determine the pitch and the harmonic spectrum, but they also influence phrasing. Fletcher defines legato as a variation in pipe resonance 279 Coltman, “Resonance and sounding Frequencies of the Flute,” 105. 280 Coltman, “Resonance and Sounding Frequencies of the Flute,” 105. 281 Neville H. Fletcher, “Acoustical Correlates of Flute Performance Technique,” The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America 57, no. 1 (1975): 234. 282 Ibid. 283 Ibid. 284 Fletcher, “Acoustical Correlates of Flute Performance Technique,” 235. 144 achieved by changing the fingering while making a slight adjustment to the blowing pressure. He specifies that it is “difficult to play large leaps in a legato fashion because of the hysteresis associated with the overlapping pressure ranges for sounding of different notes,” meaning that the flute, following a behavior common to all pipes, tends to maintain the vibrational mode even if the pressure is changed before transitioning to another mode.285 In contrast, staccato involves controlling the onset of each note “by tonguing to interrupt the air supply so that the attack is plosive, abrupt, or gradual, giving characteristic audible effects.”286 Other sound parameters, such as loudness, appear to rely less on pressure variation and more on the energy of the flow rate transferred from the air stream to the air column within the flute.287 According to Fletcher, pressure does vary between soft and loud playing, with higher pressure generally associated with louder sounds, but it is not the primary determinant of loudness; rather, the cross-sectional area of the air stream plays a more crucial role.288 In practical terms, a larger cross-section produces a broader air stream directed into the flute, resulting in a louder sound, while a smaller cross-section creates a narrower air stream and a softer sound. As seen earlier, this correlation entails lips and mouth shapes. Mouth shape also significantly influences the harmonic spectrum. According to Fletcher, not only “the colour of sound can be controlled by changing the precise direction of the jet against the lip of the embouchure,” but the “resonance in mouth cavity may also have some effect, though its acoustic coupling to the rest of the system is rather small.”289 (For a more detailed analysis of the relationship between timbre and mouth shape, see Ch. 2.) 285 Fletcher and Rossing, The Physics of Musical Instruments, 536-7 and 527. 286 Fletcher and Rossing, The Physics of Musical Instruments, 547. 287 Cossette, Sliwinski, and Macklem “Respiratory parameters during professional flute playing,” 42. 288 Fletcher and Rossing, The Physics of Musical Instruments, 545. 289 Fletcher and Rossing, The Physics of Musical Instruments, 548. 145 Additional suggestions on how to modify sound parameters come from the School of Physics at the University of New South Wales, Australia. For instance, to lower the pitch of a note, a flutist can use a combination of techniques, such as drawing the chin back or pushing it forward, rolling the flute's embouchure hole toward or away from them, and adjusting the jet geometry, as shown in the Fig.13.290 Fig. 18 Lips position in relation to head-joint riser, from “Flute acoustics: an introduction to how a flute works,” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/fluteacoustics.html. Specifically, covering a larger portion of the embouchure hole with the lower lip and reducing the radiation angle increases the effective length of the flute, thereby lowering the resonant frequencies and making the note flatter. Conversely, rolling the embouchure away and/or extending the lower jaw has the opposite effect, raising the pitch.291 When it comes to the loudness of a sound, which mainly depends on the volume of air flow, players can modify it by changing the cross-sectional area of the exit through adjustment of the lip opening. Fletcher also found that the shape of the embouchure changes with both register and 290Joe Wolfe, “Flute acoustics: an introduction to how a flute works,” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/fluteacoustics.html 291 Joe Wolfe, “Flute acoustics: an introduction to how a flute works,” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/fluteacoustics.html 146 loudness: the embouchure hole is larger for low notes played loudly and smaller for soft sounds or high notes.292 To summarize, Cossette identifies four key elements that flutists must control and balance in their playing, and she details how to combine them in order to modify sound parameters. These elements are the flute tube length, the length of the air stream between lips and flute edge, the air stream velocity and the air stream flow. Since the flow rate of the air exiting the lips depends on the relationship between Aem and Pm, flutists can control the air stream velocity and flow rate by manipulating Pm (mouth pressure) and Aem (embouchure area created by the lips), thereby modifying pitch (producing a higher note) and loudness. Without delving too deeply into the mathematics of the relationship between Aem and Pm, I outline here Cossette’s suggestions for managing sound parameters in the practical context of flute playing. If you keep constant the lip aperture and increase the mouth pressure, both pitch and loudness increase. Conversely, if you keep constant the mouth pressure and vary the lip aperture, the pitch remains constant, but loudness varies. If you want to maintain loudness while raising pitch, you need to adjust air stream dynamics, and specifically increase its velocity and decrease its volume. A way to play louder while keeping the pitch constant is to increase the pressure and increase the distance between the lips and the flute edge. Conversely, if you want to play a note soft, the possible strategies are either reducing Aem (flow) and keeping the pressure constant, or reducing both Aem and Pm but also reducing the distance between lips and flute edge, to balance the flatten sound derived from a reduced blowing pressure.293 292 Fletcher, “Acoustical Correlates of Flute Performance Technique,” 234; Fletcher and Rossing, The Physics of Musical Instruments, 546. 293 Cossette, Sliwinski, and Macklem “Respiratory parameters during professional flute playing,” 42. 147 Science is only one piece of the puzzle in understanding flute playing. For it to be useful to flutists, it is essential to bridge the gap between scientific principles and the practical realities of sound production, using correct terminology. For instance, the concept of air speed can be difficult to grasp, and its meaning can be unclear to musicians. Since air stream pressure and speed are closely related, when a teacher tells a student to “maintain air speed,” they may actually be referring to “maintaining constant blowing pressure.”294 As I observed in this thesis, the understanding of breathing physiology and sound production is still limited among educators and practitioners. The gap becomes even wider when trying to connect acoustic principles to the specific action flutists can take to modify their sound. Although some authors, like Robert Dick, have made progress in this area, a significant lacuna still remains.295 What is missing is a clear link between the exercises being taught, the body parts involved, and the sound parameters affected by these actions. More research is needed to integrate acoustics, bodily actions, and artistic intent into a cohesive understanding. From this perspective, the embodied model—which combines physical actions, body awareness, scientific knowledge, and artistic outcomes—offers a paradigm that allows flutists to fully integrate these elements, creating a more holistic approach to playing and performance. 294 Joe Wolfe, “Air speed and blowing pressure in woodwind and brass instruments: how important are they?” https://newt.phys.unsw.edu.au/jw/air-speed.html 295 Dick relates the flutist’s actions to flute acoustic when he writes that the acoustic properties of air stream are not only determined by lips but they originate inside the flutist’ body. He sets a clear correspondence between bodily processes, sounds parameters and artistic result, stressing that for every pitch there is a specific embouchure position, with a specific shaping of lips, jaw, mouth cavity, and throat, that the flutist needs to know and acquire to obtain a beautiful tone. In particular, “throat tuning,” which involves the fundamental exercise of singing while playing, is crucial in modifying the speed of the air stream. See Robert Dick, Tone Development through Extended Techniques (New York: Multiple Breath, 1986), 14, 13 and 9.
Thesis/Dissertation
eng
Music - Orchestral Instrument
Vancouver : University of British Columbia Library
Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International
Graduate
Franch-Ballester, Josè
Music embodiment in flute practice and performance
Text