Ian Bousfield: Unlocking the Trombone Code Ian Bousfield | Page 12

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accompanies them, lies human expression. And it is our job to translate and transform them into
something which conveys emotion and speaks directly to the listener.

Musical Narrative

As musicians, we are basically storytellers. When we say that someone plays with great
personality, what we really mean is they are telling us a story, speaking to us with every note.
They stand on the stage and they hold our attention from the first note to the last. There are no
dead points and their performance captivates the listener. Yes, this is a very rare occurrence,
particularly on our instrument, but this is about having a story in your head, or in your heart,
that you want to tell to an audience. It is really important that we never lose sight of why we are
doing this: people like us have existed since the very beginning of time. Like healers and people
with spiritual gifts, human communities have always had a storyteller, a musician, who would take
centre stage at important occasions. When we get bogged down with boring practice routines, it is
all too easy to forget that we are drawn to what we do because of our desire to communicate, and
perform through the arts: the trombone just happens to be our voice of choice. So, we have to
form the story we wish to tell and have this story in our heads whilst we are practising, which goes
back to my old point: we never practise, we should just perform. All of the time, then, that we are
performing, we are forming ideas of stories, and how we are going to express the emotions within
those stories. This might even be to the point of considering how we are going to move, when it
comes to performing in front of a live audience.
As performers, all too often what we are going to say is the last thing we think of (if at all!).And
in many cases, it is when we are actually in the concert, or audition. So it is not surprising we get
scared! Therefore, always have a story; even a simple scale or arpeggio can have its own story.
Nobody needs to know the story, other than you, but it is important that you do have one. Often
when we are practising, a scenario, emotion, or memory will come into our head at a certain
point in a piece. The music has inspired a feeling within us: it will be fleeting, so make a strong
mental note of it, or, better still, write it down.

Interpretation

Interpretation is a much discussed subject within the world of performance. I personally do
not believe it is my job to interpret. Rather, it is my job first to understand what is on the page,
and then to allow the composer’s intentions to be realised through the use of my own human
emotions, my response to the music, and its story. Interpretation, so often it seems, is an excuse
to change rhythms, to change dynamics, and to change tempos because the performer feels
they have the right to “interpret”. If we play really, truly, and exactly what is on the page with
correct rhythm, metronomic tempi, good intonation, articulation, phrasing and dynamics, I
honestly feel, it leaves very little to be “interpreted”. This is not my advocating sterile or cold
performances, where we are not emotionally involved. No far from it. Too much of what passes
as ‘interpretation’ is little other than tinkering with what is written on the page. The meaning of
the music is in the rendering of the narrative.

Unlocking the Trombone Code