98: The Winds of Change

Reed instruments have existed for millennia. Now they've got an upgrade.

Name That Tune

This week’s Name That Tune was submitted by Listener Jeremy. Here’s your hint: This composer is decidedly NOT best known as a composer. That’s all you get!

As always, your goal is to provide as much accurate analysis as possible. First try to get the nationality, year, and genre, then make educated guesses about the composer and — if possible— the piece. If you know the piece immediately, send us an email at toneprose@substack.com instead of commenting so the rest of us can have fun guessing. 

Last Week’s Results
Tone Prose 97
Dvorak, No. 2 Intermezzo from Six Piano Pieces, op. 52

Looks like I (Will) was the only one to get this, and as I said in my comment, I only knew it from Joey’s clue, which, for those of you who need a reminder, was about a composer who loved train watching. If you want to learn more about that topic, Dave Hurwitz has a whole video about it.

Think you can stump your fellow Listeners? Go ahead and try!

Head to our Google Form to upload a 30-second clip of an unidentified piece of classical music for us to try to identify.

Guest Post: Getting In the Reeds

This guest post comes from frequent TP contributor Listener Jeremy.

When I was a clarinet student, some 20-plus years ago, reeds were the bane of my musical existence. They’re fickle. As they’re an organic product (made from cane), they have all the variation, inconsistency, and brevity inherent to a living material. I played Vandoren V-12s, and out of a box of 10 reeds, I could expect to get maybe 1-2 of performance quality, maybe 1-2 more that are practice quality, lasting maybe a couple of weeks. And that was only after a long period of breaking them in, cleaning them up, shaping them with various tools (a reed knife, sandpaper, reed rush). 

Despite the fact they are sold by “strength” numbers (1-5, kind of like the spice scale at a Thai restaurant), the reeds you get out of the box are never quite right. They can be too hard, too soft, unbalanced, lacking a proper heart, they can be warped. They’ll behave differently based on temperature and humidity. And once you’ve got a playing reed good and ready, you have to open up a new box and start again. 

The reed — being the source of sound production on the instrument — is vitally important to tone, articulation, and air flow. A reed could make or break me back in the day. When I decided to put my clarinets in the case for good, I ceremonially broke all my reeds. It was cathartic. 

Of course, I still counted my blessings. At least I wasn’t a double-reed player! Clarinetists buy their reeds pre-cut, whereas oboists and bassoonists have to cut their reeds from blank pieces of cane. Pity the plight of the double-reed player.

Recently, I picked my clarinets back up, inspired by the greatest composition of the 21st century, and once again, I found myself having to deal with those hated reeds. As happy as I was to be playing again, the reeds were still a source of frustration and a time suck. So, I decided to try something 20-year-old-student me would’ve looked down on with utter disdain: a synthetic reed.

And dear Tone Prose readers, I am here to tell you I absolutely love it! The reed is perfectly balanced. It is consistent. It requires zero prep. I can articulate more easily on it, blow more freely and with more control. If there is any loss in tonal quality (doubtful at my skill level), that loss is entirely worth it for the greater ease in playing. Plus, they’re cheaper over time (a single synthetic reed costs about as much as a box of 10 quality cane reeds, but lasts much longer). Synthetic reeds are absolutely ideal for me, an enthusiastic amateur playing for myself. 

And here’s the thing…I’m pretty sure they’re ideal in a lot of professional environments too. Synthetic reed technology has developed a lot in the last 20 years and the professional quality offerings are numerous. The synthetic reeds I’m using are made by Légère, a pioneer in synthetic reeds, and at this point they’re several generations into their reed development technology. They’re made from polypropylene that has undergone “a process called orientation” (Légère is understandably vague on this point). They have many cuts providing different tonal qualities, and they are offered in more granular strengths than typical cane reeds.

There’s a lot to love about them and they’re only going to get better. Backun, the hot, newish clarinet manufacturer in British Columbia only sells Légère reeds on their website and claims their mouthpieces are “designed to play well on both synthetic and cane reeds”. I don’t think that means anything, but it shows the legitimacy of synthetic reeds.

Synthetic reeds are here to stay. I’m a total convert and I’ve never been happier. Anyone want a couple of unopened boxes of Vandoren V-12s? I don’t need ‘em anymore.

Editor’s update: I (Will) asked my friend Hsing-Hui (the clarinetist who gave the world premiere of the greatest composition of the 21st century) what she thought about synthetic reeds. She said she hadn’t yet found one that she liked, but she knew that Ricardo Morales, the famed principal clarinet of the Philadelphia Orchestra, had switched to synthetic, and now the entire PO clarinet section has done the same.

Tone Praise

Chopin, “Tristesse” (Etude Op. 10, no. 3)

Joseph has recently turned me (Will) onto the delights of the BBC series Jeeves and Wooster and frankly I wonder how I ever lived without it. In the most recent episode I watched, a character was playing this piece at the piano, and it’s a sentimental favorite.

Tone Prose is a co-production of William White, Joseph Vaz, and the Listeners (i.e. you.)