“I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought.” – 1 Cor. 1:10 NIV

This can be the text of a good sermon dealing with divisions in the church, or it can also be the pleading of a bandmaster trying to correct the solo cornets for rushing because they think the tuba section is dragging…

Rhythm is an integral part of music making, particularly when two or more individuals are making music together as an ensemble. I don’t need to elaborate on the natural phenomena such as heartbeats, seasons, days, cycles, etc. which link rhythm to life as much as they link rhythm to music, the mirror of life.

When people decide to join together to make music, they are still individuals who each have a greater or lesser degree of conviction as to how the music they are about to perform should sound in the end product. Some individuals dominate because they think they know how the work should be performed (pipeline to the composer and all). Others rock the boat just to be difficult. Still others seek ways of making the performance focus on themselves, while the majority follows whoever is the loudest.

Then into this sociological time bomb is interjected a conductor. He is the savior appointed by the corps officer who is supposed to bring some semblance of order by just waving his arms around in an elaborate form of semaphore.

I hope this scenario isn’t too close to home in the corps band or songster situation that you find yourself. Glance back to the title of this essay and concentrate on the ‘discipline’ aspect. To play together, each individual must first of all want to play together. One has to be willing to sublimate his or her creative talents to that of the whole. No one wants to hear a group of soloists doing their own thing, but a musical treat can be found in players of soloistic caliber working together towards one common musical goal.

Rhythm is the main element that makes this common goal possible by large numbers of performers. To understand rhythm, you also have to understand the concept of subdivision of rhythm. Simultaneous subdivision is the means by which an orchestra of 100 players can sound as precise as a string quartet.

I see the roles of the conductor (bandmaster, songster leader) as being the coordinator of this corporate subdivision.

Let me back track now and explain subdivision further. Subdivision is mentally dividing the length of any given note into the smallest workable fraction --- how small depends on the note value and the empo indicated or chosen by the conductor.

For example:
 

The obvious conclusion is that the mind has to be thinking in smaller fractions of a beat, for slower tempos.

Rhythmic patterns then become logical and simple when subdivided mathematically. Rather than trying to copy the rhythm by ear from the latest recording of the work studied, we as bandmasters sometimes encourage the copycat method of learning rhythms when we are frustrated by slow assimilation of new rhythms. Teach the basic concept behind the rhythm, then let the individual figure it out for himself. 


 

Complex rhythms can become manageable and accurate through subdivision. [A suggestion to bandmasters:  If your group is having a rhythmic problem, isolate the problem and engage the mind of the performer by having them clap the rhythm --- it saves chops as well].

We have all heard Meredith Wilson’s tribute to The Salvation Army “Banners and Bonnets” (General Series #1546), arranged by Richard Holz. Throughout this piece is a very common, yet ‘complex’ rhythm. [It must be complex because it is played so poorly most of the time]. The rhythm is:


 

To solve the problem, take that measure and divide each quarter note into triplets (common denominator):


 

Then take the triplet value and group them by two’s:


 

No guesswork (or so the theory goes).

I know the musical elite who are reading this article are now thinking: ‘That’s all very well and good for you to say, Burden, you’ve got a degree in music. I’m working with players, some of which don’t know the fingering for the Ab major scale.’ All I have demonstrated so far is nothing more difficult than is taught in a grade three fractions class in mathematics.

If you want to talk about real complex rhythms we can discuss the Ives Second Symphony where there are three conductors, in three different times, three different tempos, and three different keys, going on at the same time.

Give your players credit:  They will only respond to the level of your expectations of them. Isolate the problems, then deal with the component factors one at a time: Notes, rhythm, balance, and pitch, at a slow tempo. Once these components are in place, work your way gradually up to the tempo you wish.

Today every bandsman should be able to afford a battery operated pocket metronome. This is a start, the rest is up to the mind. Once that regular pulse is set by the metronome, your mind then divides that moment into as many equal parts as it can accommodate.

We have been talking craft, let’s now talk art. This is where the role of the conductor / coordinator comes in. A conductor is not, and should not, be a metronome. The discipline of rhythm comes from the individual, and the ensemble is then coordinated by the pulses signaled by the conductor. If you as a conductor beat nothing more or less than regular metronomic pulses, then your final product can be compared with computerized disco.

You are the individual who the group relies upon to interject the human element into a necessary mechanical exercise, that results in many playing as one.

We in The Salvation Army have to speak to souls as well as to minds. You become that interpreter or link from the craft of music-making, to the art of making music as an ensemble.

Your interpretation breathes life into lifeless black and white dots on a piece of paper. If and when the individuals working with you are disciplined, yet sensitive to your interpretation, those dots begin to take on the life that they once had in the mind and the heart of the composer.

- written by Douglas Burden, a Salvationist and professor at the University of Ottawa, and bass trombone player for the National Arts Centre Orchestra of Ottawa Ontario Canada. Click here to learn more about him.