Q&A with Tom Burge

Performing hasn't always come easy for Tom Burge. Having forged an extremely successful career as a performer and teacher, he talks to us about how he overcame his fears, and how that moulded him into the musician that he is today.

Can you tell us a bit about your career path – where did you start playing professionally, and what are you up to now?

I started playing professionally as a substitute with local orchestras in Sydney. Since then, I have made orchestral playing, chamber and solo performance, and teaching my career. I hold a Bachelor of Music from the Australian National University and a Masters from Juilliard. In Australia, I've performed in many different part- and full-time capacities with the Canberra, Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide Symphony Orchestras, as well as the Opera Australia Orchestra, Australian Chamber Orchestra, and The Queensland Orchestra.

In the United States, I've performed in the same capacities with the New York Philharmonic, the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and the Cleveland Orchestra. In addition, I’ve performed with the Atlanta, Cincinnati. Charleston, Jacksonville, North Carolina, Winston Salem, and Augusta Symphony Orchestras and the Spartanburg Philharmonic. 

I have also conducted some award-winning ensembles in both Australia and the United States and even had my own radio show on a U.S. NPR affiliate station for eight years.

As a teacher, I was a staff member at the Australian National University and head of the Brass Department. I have held similar and adjunct positions at Davidson College, Lenoir Rhyne University, South Carolina State University, Pfeiffer University, The University of North Carolina in Charlotte, and Central Piedmont Community College.

Currently, I perform with the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra and teach at Wingate University. I was recently appointed as trombone teacher at the University of North Carolina-Pembroke.

Who or what inspires you as a musician?

The who would be my main teachers: Arthur Hubbard, who was my first teacher, and helped me to organise my musical thoughts; Michael Mulcahy, who put my mind and thought process firmly on the right path; Ron Prussing, who nurtured and inspired me for the majority of my formative years during undergraduate school; and Joseph Alessi, who lit a fire underneath all the good information I had already received and helped me realise how much I needed to do to always take it to the next level. My career was made possible by all of them, and, much like college debt in the United States, I can probably never truly repay it. But I am supremely grateful.

Last but by no means least is the late, great Arnold Jacobs, who built the framework and thought foundation of the brass fraternity.

The what would be inspiration. Inspiration in performance must always be musical. That resonates through me, but this idea came from the teachings of Arnold Jacobs. Brass instrument performance has a physical aspect, no doubt, but the impetus -- the immediate inspiration during performance -- should be the imagined musical concept and not the physical. To inspire whatever physics may be necessary, it must start with the music.

Anything that moves you can inspire the music, which then inspires performance.

What are some of the specific pressures associated with the work that you do?

I think the perceived need to be perfect is very real for orchestral musicians. I've heard people say that fear is a good motivator. I think many would question the validity of this comment in colloquial settings and in terms of teaching and different aspects of our work. I won't speak to that, but I will say that, if you are focusing on fear as your main motivation -- or if your impetus is "I don't want to screw up" -- then you can definitely do better. Not wanting to screw up is more likely to attract nervousness in performance than protect against it.

Also, when we talk about fear in performance, we are talking about fear of failure. It stands to reason, then, that if our focus during performance is on fear and failure, that’s exactly what will happen.

After a nerve-ridden performance, many people will say to a class of colleagues, "I was so nervous". If you ask what else they were thinking about, their response could be, "I don't know - I was so nervous. And then kept screwing up." We've all been there at some point, and it makes sense.

If nerves cause you to focus on your nervousness and the possibility of screwing up, then those are two pretty negative thoughts to have in your mind during performance. Instead, focus on the music you will perform, describe to yourself what you hope to accomplish with feelings of positivity, and have a rock-solid strategy for every aspect of the music. Form these thoughts during your preparation; they are excellent defences against nervousness.

Has performance anxiety or nerves been something that you have had to consciously manage throughout your career?

Yes indeed, and it was definitely the most challenging when I was developing in college.

As a college student, I would get almost catatonic before a performance, as if I was trapped. It was a horrible feeling. There's an old-fashioned saying that captures it really well: I would go to water, as in, everything would turn to liquid or jelly. There was no substance to what I was doing. It was so far from what I had planned that the outcome seemed just a complete train wreck. In retrospect, I probably had poor perspective, but trust me when I say it was far below what I knew my capabilities to be. I was completely focused on the most negative aspects of my fear: the fear itself, the failure it caused. My mind would go blank to everything else.

I wanted to do well in the moment. I wanted to show people how good I was. But during college, I finally realized that was misguided. So, instead, I started trying to focus less on me and proving something about myself in performance, and more on how awesome the music was that I wanted to share. Over time, it became about giving people a great concert experience.

Brass performance class was Monday mornings at 11am in front of all the brass students. Everyone had to perform regularly, and everyone had to critique others positively. Those were the rules. Still, it was nerve-racking for me. Thinking back on it, I see now that there was a fair bit of dishonesty involved. I wanted to be good -- fast. So I fooled myself into thinking that my musical and technical deficits were not as big a deal as they were. When I finally separated the truth from the lies, it made things a lot clearer.

We had to perform at most every class. I always had something prepared.  My dishonesty began with the preparation when I crossed the line between preparing and manipulating my experience to make it easier to manage. I would arrive early and was always in the room first. I found if I was already onstage when everyone filed in, I’d probably be asked to go first, and it softened the experience if the class evolved around my already being there onstage. I was diluting the performance experience by doing this, but in retrospect it was an important early part of my process. I was not dealing with my nerves, I was trying to avoid them. In this early stage I had a few positive performances, and this built my confidence.

But, my teacher was a smart man. He saw this and began calling me offstage to sit with the group at the beginning of class. If you can only do something successfully one way then, when the situation changes, you won’t be prepared and he wanted me to approach nerves in all situations. He would just ask someone else to go first and my turn would come later, after sitting cold. It was torture, and a lot more difficult to deal with. But I persevered. Some weeks were really good and some felt pretty terrible,  but I'd wake up, eat my Weet-bix, and get ready for another round. Sometimes exhilarating. Sometimes soul crushing. Always informative.

Now if my recital or jury was at 9 a.m. on a Friday, I would run the performance at the exact same time every day the week leading up to the big day. This helped me experience what it would be like and I had prepared my daily routine -- even honed my sleep patterns. All of this meant fewer surprises. When I presented my recital to the public and my panel, it was the 7th or 8th time I had already played it, it was more familiar, and my approach was much more confident. The last day before the recital, after I finished my routine and performance, I would have a nice trombone-free day because I was as ready as I was going to be. It was like my gift to myself for being brave enough to do it all again.

These experiences showed me the depth of my preparation was key in helping me through performance nerves.

Be the master of your performance destiny:

Experience great live performance.

Listen to great recordings.

Record yourself.

Perform a lot in all sorts of situations.

My nerves are still a regular friend these days. My relationship with them has changed, because if it were not for nerves, and rising to their challenge, I would not be where I am today. Creating defences against nerves helped me improve my playing and performing, and heightened my musicianship to the point that I just had less to be nervous about.

What do you do to keep on top of your nerves and anxiety?

These days, I find I'm more likely to be nervous if something affects my readiness or preparation. I used to call it “warming up” but it’s more about finding balance. Physical balance would cover the relationship between wind and resistance (sound production), but musical balance (the more important) would be the one between my concept and the physical. Making sure my physics respond to my concept, and not vice-versa.

Nowadays I present annual chamber performances and solo recitals, and I don’t go easy! I want the challenge to create nerves. The personal purpose is to present myself with an honest, fresh experience to keep on top of nervousness. I go out there searching for nerves now. I am like a nerves warrior! I recently performed an all unaccompanied recital of flute, violin and recorder repertoire by Bach, Telemann and Paganini, and a suite by Mike Davis, all for an audience of Bach Scholars. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I was outside my comfort zone, but I always welcome the growth.

I also believe very strongly in incorporating regular breathing exercises:

www.windsongpress.com/breathing-devices/

Regular deep breathing away from the instrument helps keep me honest with the kind of relaxed, deep, controlled breath I would like to use always when performing. This kind of practice, combined with simple tone production, singing, and slur exercises helps set a solid foundation of breath and fundamental tone: a doctrine to flood your mind with in times of nervousness. I currently combine slow Charles Colin Lip Flexibilities with Brad Edwards's Lip Slur Melodies and Bordogni Vocalises to help a beautiful and simple musical phrase become an early part of my day.

This kind of practice is what I call doctrine. Doing it daily, it will become conditioned response.

If fear, self-doubt, or negativity creeps in during a concert, what do you do to get into a more positive frame of mind?

This is the two-million-dollar question. Now you are not just developing a skill in practice to help defend your music onstage. Instead, this question asks, "What if, even despite your best planning, fear rears its ugly head onstage? Then, what is your strategy?"

For me, I flood my mind with the music I'm performing and the doctrine I have built every day. Particularly focusing on song and wind, like Arnold Jacobs said. In times of fear, keep simple thoughts and goals. Then, as your confidence returns, start to remember that you actually do enjoy doing this.

What do you do to prepare for a concert, both physically and mentally?

Again, being prepared and breathing exercises are my main line of defence. I will do as much as 10-20 minutes of varied breathing exercises in my breath builder and my breathing bag, and then easy, slow, slurred exercises that have simple music in them and help me find my balance and confidence in tone production and phrase. Allen Kovsky, trombonist of the Cleveland Orchestra for many years, used to say, "Fall in love with your sound." I try not to take to the stage until there is at least the beginnings of some amorous infatuation.

What advice would you give to students today in regards to the mental side of performing?

Perform often. Your key to performance anxiety is in the depth of your preparation. Record yourself often and actively listen to the recordings. Take opportunities that put you outside your comfort zone. Take performance and audition opportunities. If there are none for you, create some. Focus on relaxed breath. Focus on relaxed posture. Focus on deeply moving, expressive musical lines. Saturate your mind with these positive thoughts. There’ll be less space for negative thoughts to fit.

We've maybe experienced performance classes in school where a teacher or colleague might intensely question us to test our depth of preparation. At the time it can feel invasive:

"Do you know the story behind this? What is taking place in the piece here? At which point in his/her life did the composer write this? What does the poem mean, on which this piece is based? Have you ever been to this place or stood at the top of a tall mountain like that?"

"If you know the answers to all these things, and can speak eloquently about each of them, how does that all make you feel? How does that - for you - inform or inspire your performance?"

That last question is really the point, isn't it? It might seem negative at the time, because sometimes it comes after a performance you gave in a class that wasn't as stellar as you hoped. So there's a real part of all of us, in that state, thinking that all this thought about these mundane questions isn't going to help you not miss that high E flat or clear up that octave slur or control that articulation.

Now, maybe at the moment of performance it won't make a huge amount of difference, but during the period of preparation these things could deeply inform your preparation so that the impetus or inspiration every step of the way is deeper or "beyond the physical". So when nerves strike, they are not really eating at the FOUNDATION of your performance as they have in the past, but they are relegated to merely minor obstacles that have a much less lasting impression on your performance.

Arnold Jacobs had a way of explaining things beautifully and simply that really resonates with me. I aspire to that. It's a challenge for me because I like to analyse. Now, some analysis is good and healthy, as it's an important part of improvement. But at the moment of performance, we need to don a different hat.

To read more about Tom, check out his website: www.tomburge.com