Musical Expression

Embracing it in our playing and listening

We enjoy music because it moves us.

Sometimes it makes us literally move: Tap toes, sway, march, or dance. Often, it moves us emotionally: Pulse envelops us. Beauty sets us aglow. Rhythms, harmonic chords, and melodies create moods and tell stories. We sense the feelings of the musician as intimately as if we were have a heart to heart talk.

This is why we listen to music, and why we learn to play it. As players of music, we are always seeking to refine and develop the musicality and expression that we naturally feel as listeners.

One way to develop our musicality as players is to keep what we already have as listeners. For some learners, it can seem like such a big job to learn all those notes and instrumental techniques that they feel they have to tune out their sense of expression in order to focus on “the basics” first. But such players can find it difficult or artificial to insert expressive ideas later, after having tuned them out. And without a sense of musicality, it often takes a lot longer to learn a tune, because it becomes a mere technical exercise.

Newsflash — Expression is the first “basic”! It is what motivates us to learn to play music in the first place, and guides us through all obstacles in our way. We usually select a tune or a style of music to learn because it moves us. So let’s hang onto that love of the music and not set it aside as we wait for perfection to find us. I know, sometimes we don’t select our own tune to learn but have to learn one selected for us by a group we play with, or a teacher. Even then, we can always find the musicality of a tune. Ignore those who dismiss a tune as boring or “squirrelly” or “easy” — to me, these glib epithets are a result of not really paying attention to the music, or wanting to impress people with fancy tunes.

Many of my students have heard me joke that we’re learning a technique in order to “impress our friends and neighbors!” Of course, they know I’m joking, but let’s get serious for a moment. The truth is, we play music not to impress but to move our friends and neighbors. And that can happen even if we’re beginners and happen to play some music that is meaningful to them.

Let’s get at how that works, with a few thoughts on how to protect our musicality and develop it in our playing. It’s impossible to cover this topic thoroughly here, so feel free to share your thoughts by leaving a comment at the end (looking at you, JK, and lots of others!).

Many words help us think about and learn techniques for adding expression to our playing — dynamics, loud and soft, light and shade, tempo changes, articulations, tonal shifts. These are important ideas, and in some music, especially classical, they can be written in by composers or editors. But taking these ideas too literally can transform expression into yet another technique, and expression is not technique. Having more technique gives us tools to convey more musicality; it can also open up new ways to express ourselves. But we have to feel and want to convey those ideas; they don’t happen by themselves, and they don’t happen by merely following someone else’s instructions.

If you’d like to increase the musicality of your playing, start at the level of a single phrase, which is usually two measures of a tune. Many tunes have two parts, each part built of four phrases — A1, A2, A1, A-end. Look for this structure. It’s usually a kind of call and response — question, answer, same question, better answer. You can even make up words for each phrase that use this call and response structure, as in: “Where have you been all the day?” “I can’t tell you, I don’t want to.” “Where have you been all the day?” “I’ve been at the movies.” (Try it to the tune of Bonnie Tammie Scolla!) Rather than merely memorize notes, try making these phrases speak to each other, as if you were singing the words to the song — and as if you really meant them!

Each phrase has an emotional arc. Bring it out so that listeners can hear it. In the first phrase above, try making the word “you” into the peak of the phrase, like an accusation (one possible interpretation, you might think of another). Make that note (“you”) loud, really loud. Meanwhile, start and end that phrase quietly. Really quietly. The contrast between the two is what will make a listener take notice and begin to enjoy what you are conveying. The high points of phrase two may be the two “I”s or maybe “tell” and “want.” Right there, we have two different ways of expressing the second phrase. Exaggerate the contrast and see which way sounds better to you.

Why exaggerate? Because it’s as if you’re on stage, like an actor playing to the audience in the back of the theater. An actor will never merely move a finger — the last row will miss that little gesture completely. Instead, the actor will move a whole arm, or even throw their body into it. It’s the same with music — if you don’t exaggerate, listeners won’t even know you’re trying to make a change from soft to loud, or from gentle to powerful. You have to grab their ears with the contrast so that they notice — and they’ll find it interesting and pay more attention, because changes is expression suggest a story, a progression. They make the music feel like it’s going somewhere, and listeners want to know where you’re going with it.

One great way to bring tunes to life is to imagine your music as the soundtrack to a movie. Of course, you get to make up the story, and you don’t even have to tell anyone what it is. It could be a tale of something that happened today, or something you wish happened. You might have been awed or melted by something or someone you encountered — or you might be furious about something. These emotions, as part of your movie, will make you play the music differently. And if you have a storyline, a plot of some kind, going in your mind, however simple or complex, however serious or ridiculous, however proper or bawdy, it will shape the way you play a tune. The second time through the tune will feel different, because your plot has moved to a new chapter. That princess who grandly descended the staircase at the beginning of your tune is now in the middle of an argument with her sister — the same notes will sound very different!

I recall judging a high-level fiddle competition at which a very good player used dynamics and good tone for a slow air, and then repeated the tune precisely the same way as it was played the first time. This made the tune feel cold and calculated. The expression came across as learned, memorized, technical, rather than feel like it was coming from the heart. The next player conveyed freshness despite playing the same notes the second time through their tune, and the contrast between these players has always stuck with me as a lesson about musicality.

Many learners try to learn the notes and techniques of a tune before “moving on” to musicality, as if expression is only for advanced players. To me, it’s far better to learn one phrase with expression, than to learn a whole tune without it. No one should wait around until they’re “good enough” or until they know a tune “well enough” to bring out their musicality. Musical expression is the best motivation for learning a tune in the first place, so aim for it from day one. Even a beginner can put emotion into a tune, and an advanced player can always add more.

If you can think of some kind of storyline for a tune or medley you’re playing, it will take your music beyond the notes. And it can be super simple. One time, I had trouble with a jump to a high note across two strings in the middle of a tune, but when I found myself imagining that the high note was the tweet of a bird out the window on the street, I played that part of the tune much better. I remember that bird every time I play the tune.

If you feel like experimenting (and there’s no better way to develop expression than to experiment!), try playing a tune to more than one story; deliberately express more than one mood, just as you may feel very different from one day to the next. If your tune was the soundtrack to a movie about flirting with someone you wished you had met, that’s a good start — then try playing the tune to a different soundtrack or mood entirely, such as a plot where you find yourself inside a boiling hot suit of armor while attempting to slay a dragon. The mood and drama of your two movies will push you to play the tune very differently. This can open your ears to different possible sounds for a tune.

On a very practical performance level, I’ve had to play the same tune very differently when it was moved from being the end of the first half of a program to the opening number in the second half — the mood of the audience, and the performer, is quite different in those two moments of a program, and the tune is going to feel different too. Can you figure out what dynamics and articulation can convey that different mood? And can you exaggerate those differences so the listeners can actually hear them? If working alone, you might try recording yourself both ways and see if you can notice the change. Intention is not enough; the listener has to hear the difference.

If you draw a blank about adding expressive ideas, or if you have trouble getting started with the idea of a soundtrack, set up some arbitrary rules to get yourself going. For example, start and end the first phrase of a tune so quietly you can hardly hear it, but at some point in the middle, make sure to play as loud as you can. After a few attempts at this pattern, reverse it — start and end loud, and find a very quiet spot in the middle. You might actually like some of the contours you hear while doing this. If so, keep them, try them again, and see if they spark a conversation with the next phrase, where you may want to repeat the same ideas, or mirror them, or reply in some other way. Sometimes even arbitrary rules can make you play in a way you wouldn’t have thought of before. You might well surprise yourself.

Johnny Cunningham, the great Scottish fiddler who loved to play super fast, once said that he liked to practice reels very slowly, playing them as if they were slow airs. In this way, he could discover the musical emotion of the tunes. Then when he played them fast again, he could still bring those expressive ideas into his playing.

A note to all fiddlers — your bow is the author of almost all your musicality and expression. It’s in charge of sound quality, dynamic tonal changes, and tempo. Your left hand can add some ideas, such as a bit of vibrato to warm up a note (if the bow supports it), slides that can convey a sigh or anticipation, and grace notes that add to pulse and crispness. But the bow brings it all to life.

Several bowing techniques that give you expressive tools can be found in articles here about Notches, Breathing Bows, Circular Bows, Meeting the Bow, and Slowbow. Notches can be read here in a previous post, with video; the others will be featured here in due course! All can also be viewed in Technique Video Group #2 on fiddle-online.com.

Keep in mind that expression is worth aiming for from day one. Tell your musical story. Bring out your ideas and dramatize your story with enough contrast, and your listeners will be moved.

Nobody can really tell you how you feel about your music. Experiment, set your playing free, and enjoy!