For those of us who have committed our lives to an instrument, the path from the practice room to the professional stage is rarely just about technical mastery. It is a journey through a systemic landscape that can, over time, fundamentally disorient the human nervous system.
When a musician says they are "burned out" or "losing their chops," we often treat it as a fatigue issue or a practice deficiency. But the science suggests something far more profound. When the nervous system is subjected to chronic social and emotional threat, it doesn't just get "stressed." It physically reorganizes itself.
Throughout my career as a performer and educator, I’ve found that music truly comes alive in the spaces between people. Whether you are a parent trying to keep your child engaged with the cello or a professional navigating the complexities of a new project, a partnership isn’t just a luxury; it’s a catalyst for excellence.
In Soviet Russia, You No Play Note - Note Plays You
A hesitation occurs when a player intends to start a note, but at the exact moment of playing, the body holds back air against the player’s conscious wishes. The sound doesn’t speak cleanly—or sometimes at all—even though the player wants it to.
I remember when my brother, a French horn player, would get into terrible bouts of frustration and anger while practicing in high school. At one point he even wrinkled his bell by punching it.
Frustration is something we need to listen to. It’s important feedback.
In complex movement tasks—whether in golf, athletics, or especially instrumental music—technical problems rarely come from doing too little. More often, we’re simply doing too much. When we remove unnecessary tension and interference, our body’s natural coordination takes over, and movements begin to flow with a kind of miraculous precision.
How First-Hand Experience in Parallel Activities Can Help Trombonists Transcend Barriers
The way you surf a wave; carve snow on skis; shred with a longboard on asphalt; take high speed turns in cycling or in a car - is the same way you should surf the sound with the air at the bell of the trombone.
This interplay between air and sound — what Jan Kagarice calls the sound membrane — is what Arnold Jacobs’ famous “Song and Wind” is all about.
Skill Bridges—intentional connections between non-trombone activities and core brass-playing skills—allow players to retrain movement patterns without triggering the neural pathways that reinforce the problem. For players who feel stuck, plateaued, or overwhelmed by technical issues, these parallel experiences can unlock natural, efficient, expressive music-making in ways traditional practice simply cannot.
This article explores how Skill Bridges become the most powerful tool we have for breaking through deeply entrenched barriers.
Student motivation is one of the most important factors in a trombone player’s growth—and it’s directly shaped by their teacher.
Whether in music lessons or sports coaching, research consistently shows that teaching style determines not only how students learn but whether they stay motivated to keep learning.
In my lessons at San Diego Trombone Lessons, I often begin sessions with a short body-scan: 30 seconds – 2 minutes of checking in with the body and noticing what feels good or less than good. This isn’t a luxury—it’s a core part of how I help students move with greater ease, clarity, and musical freedom.
In this post I’ll explain why this kind of emotional-body awareness matters, how it links to movement quality, and what I do in that scan. If you’re a parent considering lessons, you’ll see exactly how this unique pedagogy supports your child’s growth—not just technically, but holistically.
Air Flow is the most important aspect of brass playing mechanics. When the air flows freely, everything else falls into place. Free air flow begins with the breath. The most common problem I see in brass players is that they accumulate enormous tension on the inhale. As a result they cannot move air freely on the exhale and tone, range, and articulation suffer. Below is the scientific basis for proper breathing and practical steps to improve your playing.
At San Diego Trombone Lessons, my teaching is designed to help students break through those plateaus by tapping into what psychologists call “flow state” — a mental zone of full engagement, focus, and enjoyment that accelerates learning and unlocks musical breakthroughs.
Brass pedagogy is full of metaphors: buzz your lips, support with air, keep the throat open. While some of these work in practice, many are hand-me-downs that don’t actually reflect how the instrument functions at a physical level.
What happens when we go back to first principles—standing waves, impedance, and the bell effect—and ask: What is the instrument really doing, and how should that reshape our approach to playing?
Research in music sociology and gender studies continues to document patterns of gender inequity across orchestral and instrumental domains. Within brass performance, and particularly among trombonists, gender representation remains markedly unequal. This synthesis reviews recent empirical and qualitative studies, case analyses, and institutional responses that illuminate the mechanisms sustaining this disparity.
Helping a child succeed in music isn’t about shortcuts or luck — it’s about setting them up with the right environment, the right instrument, and the right practice habits. My 10-year-old daughter just started fifth-grade band this year on the flute, and within two weeks she became first chair. Here’s how my wife and I supported her journey — and how you can help your child thrive too.
If you’ve ever found yourself stuck in the practice room obsessing over your embouchure, tongue placement, or whether your throat is “open” enough, you’re not alone. Brass players are often handed a laundry list of technical instructions—each one aimed at producing a better sound—but paradoxically, all this internal focus can sometimes make us sound worse. That’s where the research of Gabrielle Wulf comes in. Wulf has spent years studying something called attentional focus—essentially, where we direct our attention while performing a skill. Her findings, tested across athletes, dancers, and musicians, are striking.