My amazing flute teacher: HAROLD BENNETT
I want to share some thoughts about my experience with Harold Bennett, a truly amazing flute teacher. I was stationed at the USMA Band at West Point, August of 1966 - 1969. Vietnam was raging and I would have been drafted but was able to audition and get into this great band (one of five "special service bands"). I graduated college, got married one week later
and entered boot camp one week after that.
My wonderful flute mentor at the University of Louisville was Francis Fuge (he passed away this year -2013). In my last semester he encouraged me to take some "moonlighting" lessons with another flute teacher in the Indiana area (James Pellerite) who really knocked me for a loop. Fuge had given his OK for these lessons (being the wonderfully open and supportive teacher he ALWAYS was, but then when I entered the Army I became rather lost in my flute path.
I was completely overwhelmed by the level of musicianship at West Point, especially the young clarinet players
(most of whom had graduated from the big-name universities and conservatories in the US).
My plan had been to really get my flute playing to the next level during my three years there, but with the insecurity that resulted from those "other" lessons, plus the high level of playing of my Army colleagues,
I more of less put my serious flute playing ambitions in the closet.
Not having enough money, I had hoped to study privately in NYC while in the Army, but in that first year, I simply didn't have the courage or money to audition for Julius Baker in NYC or William Kincaid in Philadelphia (reputedly the best teachers in the US). It took a change of policy or “good break” from the Army to get me out of my lethargy. They began providing funds for private lessons one year into my enlistment. I asked all of the other 6 USMA flutists, “whom I should study with”. The overwhelming recommendation was Harold Bennett, considered to be a real teacher, not the biggest name or reputation, but a dedicated and innovative TEACHER.
In those days the rumor was that many of Julius Baker's students would go to Harold when they needed to solve any kind of flute-related problem. Baker was considered the master teacher for those who really didn't have many "flute issues". I was told that in the period of roughly 1955- 1975, many of Harold's students saw him on that "moonlighting" basis. He was on the faculty of The Manhattan School of Music and had some great regular students there. He also was the master teacher for woodwind doublers. All of this because of his love of and ability to diagnose problems, then to provide practical "flute" cures. He was a true "nuts and bolts" teacher. There was never a better teacher to address the fundamentals of flute playing AND basic musicianship. The most impressive thing to this day (as I am actively teaching and trying to follow in his footsteps) is to come close to the standard he always exhibited in playing anything. TRUTH: I haven’t come close to being able to plck up any piece or excerpt my students are working on and demonstrate the way they should sound. I have come to rely far too heavily on my words, rather than my actions to demonstrate solutions and musical ideals I want to communicate. (It might be time for a change in preparation methinks).
My personal experience: In 1968 I called him to set up my first lesson, still in recovery from those confusing lessons in the last part of my senior college year. As I soon learned, this man was the perfect teacher for me, and the timing was 100% perfect. I was ready to commit to sustained hard work for the first time in my life and he had the inspiration, dedication and knowledge to provide the impetus. The reality that I wasn't in the top league of flutists at that time forced me to confront my lack of sustained and focused practice. His lessons changed my life. They gave me the fuel to propel myself to a much higher level of practicing and playing.
Lesson #1 was probably similar to many students of my level (someone who worked the flute fairly well, but had a long way to go). His teaching schedule was quite unique. He had been retired from the Met a couple of years, so most of his career work was teaching and playing a few commercial gigs (mostly jingles/commercials). Generally he taught from 12-1 to 6 pm, and then took a dinner break and a nap until 9 pm when he resumed teaching until midnight or beyond. As was the case with Trudy Kane, my lessons started at 9 or 10 pm,
Following a long drive (1 1/2 hours) from West Point to Jackson Heights. After those lessons I would be very excited and awake enough to make the return trip to West Point, often going over and replaying his lesson pointers with my then pianist-wife, whom had often commuted with me to the lesson.
In that first lesson I told him I wanted to become a symphony flutist and was prepared to work hard. I wanted to memorize all of the main flute orchestra excerpts and wanted him to push me. He quietly agreed, but it was clear that he had a plan, which included a lot more than learning these small extractions from the orchestra literature. He immediately introduced me to Anderson op. 33 and suggested I bring back one or more etudes for the next lesson. I accepted and secretly thought (after seeing that these weren't really all that difficult looking), I would prepare 4-6 etudes for the next lesson (some two weeks later). His simple instructions were: use a metronome and play each one perfectly (AFTER MASTERING EVERY 4-NOTE GROUPING or “finger exercises” IN THE ETUDE). Well, was I in for a rude awakening, I simply did not have the kind of concentration to be able to get through half of #1 without several mistakes. Mistakes gained a new “Bennett” definition suddenly: a missed note, a wrong rhythm, a missed breath, an underplayed dynamic, etc.etc. I immediately lowered my expectations to preparing only number one, and I wasn’t confident that I could play it flawlessly (WITH THE METRONOME). In many ways, this wake-up call was one that changed my flute playing life. For the first time I clearly saw some specific flaws in my approach to preparing musical material.
To this day, I realize that almost every student whom I work with has a similar “cloudy” view of etudes. Sometimes I allow the etude regimen with my students to slip into a secondary role. With the younger ones (pre-college) I often hear: “these are so boring”. Yes, it is boring to play the same mistakes over and over. It is NOT boring to play tricky and difficult sequences of musical phrases over and over perfectly! My philosophy of teaching my students these days Includes etudes, repertoire and orchestra excerpts. The metronome is NOT optional. (A modern metronome has endless options, which help more than the tick-tock box of our teachers).
After my first return lesson with my prepared op.33 #1, I got the message very clearly when he said with that wry, quiet voice of his: “you seem to only breath when you make mistakes”. I have never forgotten that message and to this day I struggle to maintain the necessary high standard about “planned effective breathing” when playing ANYTHING. I often laugh at myself at the numbers of times I simply play the “lazy breathing card”. My view of breathing, comes compliments his strict view of breathing every 2 bars (CONSISTENTLY). There will always be room for discussion about where to breath in all of our flute music (etudes, solo rep, orchestra parts, chamber music, commercial music). Most often the structure and architecture of the music gives the best indications of where to “fill up”. Often I find that the phrasings indicated by the composer or the editor, seem somewhat counterintuitive. In those cases, I feel that keen research of each phrase will yield the direction of breathing. Often if isn’t what the composer or music editor chose. A choice needs to be made, and that phrase's breath needs to be played with 100% conviction
(until it no longer works or a teacher or colleague suggests an alternative.}
Given my relative state of “flute insecurity” when I went to Mr. Bennett, he could sense that I was wandering somewhat. He immediately suggested vibrato studies which rang a harmonious bell with me: I had learned vibrato from Frederick Wilkin’s “Guide to Flute Playing” book, produced in collaboration with the Artley Flute Company in the 1950’s. I learned the mechanics of the vibrato mechanism with the book (and record) and these years later was re-introduced to Bennett’s version of those simple, but effective exercises. (A curious coincidence is that James Galway also learned from this small, powerful book many decades ago.)
By my third lesson I was beginning to feel some confidence with his etude demands and with the vibrato exercises. To be able to play completely through any of those etudes was an astounding achievement for one had never set that as a REAL goal. I believe it was in that lesson that he said to me, “you know, you are a very good flute player”. I have to say that those simple words (not necessarily uttered to change my life) had a remarkable effect on me. It was as though I had somehow passed his muster and he wanted me to know that he thought “I WAS A PLAYER”. It was the booster rocket, which propelled me to work the hardest 2 years of my life. It gave me the true meaning of dedication and regimen leading to success. I have never forgotten that moment and throughout the next 45 years I have often channeled that “newly found” confidence and commitment to my flute playing.
As I moved seriously into the whole catalog of orchestral excerpts, his encouragement allowed me to feel that I would be able to achieve my goal of playing all of those difficult passages with understanding – maybe even winning a job someday. I had determined that memorizing all of the excerpts was a critical step in my path to winning an audition. The point of memory was more my own goal, but he supported me fully. As I began to feel more “comparable” to my USMA colleagues, I was more willing set up mock auditions with my buddies. Being able to perform well for my great musician friends was a bigger challenge than doing it alone in a practice room. I will always be grateful to my bandmates at West Point for their challenging support of each other.
It was a special time for many of us.
During those two years of study with Mr. Bennett I was a member of two woodwind quintets from the USMA Band as I continued learning many lessons: not just about the musical aspect of performing, but the business side of trying to get gigs with appropriate programs. Learning to speak to an audience of young children about our performances provides a big opportunity for my growth. One of my enduring memories is that each member of the group would do a demonstration of their instrument, performing a couple of our most difficult excerpts. This was great preparation for the auditions which followed (although there were some very quizzical reactions from the elementary school children subjected to these “audition preps”.
Harold Bennett was probably best known as the “crazy flutist” who homogenized musical instruments (especially flutes). He had always been a good mechanic with the flute and understood how to adjust keys and pads. He was convinced that the molecular structure of the flute needed to be kept in alignment to render the best possible acoustical platform for the performer. He could accurately make small “repair” adjustments in those many points on the flute, which require delicate touch and patience. But beyond that, he was convinced that each instrument (on the planet) could play at a higher level by aligning all of the parts of the instrument. The method of achieving this led to some raised eyebrows, but many were convinced that his methods worked wonders on their previously “non-homogonized” instruments.
I do not know the details of the final chapter of Harold Bennett’s life, but I do know that he left a powerful legacy of beautiful flute playing and extraordinary teaching. I will forever give him the credit for my orchestral career. I also give him credit for recognizing in me the potential to do things beyond classical playing as he sometimes would say after hearing me play some kind of technical/jazzy lick: “I don’t know how you do that, I never could but wish that I could”. That simple off the cuff comment was also a key factor in my developing a musical path which went beyond the world of orchestras.
Thank you Mr. Bennett for being an amazing teacher, both for me and hundreds of other flutists.
We were enormously blessed to be in your presence and to learn from a true Master Teacher.