Intonation is a musical term that refers to the relationship between pitches, which, in even-tempered music, is an equal relationship. All major seconds, minor sixths, or augmented fourths should have the same pitch relationship whether you start on a Bb, G# or C##. I don’t have above average musical talent, but one strength I’ve always had was an ability to hear pitch and play in tune. I want to take a moment to think about being in tune, equal relationships, and how it tests my even temperament.
As I’ve mentioned in other posts, blind auditions in classical music led to women instrumentalists eventually making up roughly half of American orchestras. Not knowing who is playing eliminates the bias that will hear flaws in instrumental performance based on the musician’s race or gender. There are no blind auditions in jazz. A mistake made by a woman can disqualify her while mistakes made by men are part of the rehearsal process. If you think you are unbiased in your listening, please remember that the classical adjudicators before blind auditions were just as confident. They thought they were being objective. Blind auditions proved they were not.
Interestingly, intonation has been a key area for men to adjudicate my existence in a band. During a meal with some players and the director after a gig I asked, “What do you think is the weakest aspect of the sax section?” He answered, “Jeff can’t find Do (as in Do-Re-Mi).”* I gave a nod. Ok, the director knows, I thought. The second alto player was regularly out of tune.
At the next rehearsal, I didn’t play during a couple bars that were always egregiously out of tune. After the song, the lead altoist leaned over and told me I was out of tune in that section. I said I wasn’t playing. There were some flustered blibs and blabs as the thought that the second alto player was out of tune rattled around in his head. Nothing more was said and we continued rehearsing. Some days later the director called to tell me I was fired. “Once there starts to be a problem like this in a horn section,” he said, “you’ve poisoned the well.” Perhaps this is when I mention I was the only woman in the big band. And point taken: women are not only disqualified for their mistakes; they are disqualified for men’s mistakes.
A few years later I played with a male tenor player who did not have good intonation and I was playing soprano. No longer naïve, I knew I had a conundrum. Do I blend with him or with the rest of the band? If I point it out, will I get fired? I did not say anything. I was chewed out for being out of tune by the male drummer.
Flash forward to today when I am daring to learn a new instrument while female. I recently purchased a $5000 Haynes flute and committed myself to this new instrument. Fortunately, my mind has mostly outgrown the world where women cannot make mistakes and must apologize profusely if they do make one. At a recent rehearsal I encountered a new issue with the flute: the notorious high-E that is difficult for all flute players because it is naturally sharp and a flautist needs to learn how to lower that pitch. At the rehearsal I held a sustained high-E that was as sharp as I will cut you if you are still in kindergarten on these issues after we’ve discussed them twenty times. Duly noted, I thought. I need to shed this. I was excited that the gig was an opportunity to start to get that together. If I couldn’t get it in tune by the gig, I knew I would take it down an octave.
I had forgotten that WOMEN CAN’T MAKE MISTAKES! On the morning of the gig, I was texted that the flute would be cut because a man had weighed in on the issue. He heard my mistake and consulted with the director about how to fix it. The best answer apparently was to have me leave the flute at home. The assumption was, she can’t play in tune and/or won’t make choices that will lead to good music. We need to make them for her. Here’s how I think it would go if I were a guy:
Guy 1: “Hey, you can hear that’s out of tune, right?”
Guy 2: “Indeed. I’m a new doubler and high-E is a bitch. I tried to get it in tune tonight but couldn’t do it. I’m going to shed it and if I can’t get it happening by the gig, I’ll take it down an octave.”
Guy 1: “Cool.”
See how easy it is to work with men!!! But women!! You can’t say anything to them. So you must cut them out and then maybe get an earful like it’s my fault she can’t play the flute!
By the by, during the gig the male guitarist’s amp suddenly released a soul-drowning feedback drone for 5 seconds in the middle of a tune! Ooooops. Imagine if that guitarist were a woman—ruh roh!! If she didn’t lose the gig, that would go in her “permanent file” as evidence she can’t hang. And she better apologize profusely for that! The guy? I didn’t hear him apologize or make any mention of it. All was forgotten. And that’s fine! Shit happens. That’s how it should be for everybody.
I did bring my flute and I did play the part: in tune! I shedded my ass off to do it and I am proud of that. Did it sound like a professional flute player? Not to my ears. I am a doubler and I have played the flute for 18 months. And guess what: that is ok! Just like men, women do not have to be perfect to keep their place in the GDMF band!
*Names have been changed because they are currently still interchangeable.
