Drum Physics, Pt. 3: Suppleness

Two sets of highly supple, warrior hands. Clyde & Jabo.

In the last post I talked about the two primary grip-styles and some of their advantages. Now I want to talk about the physical attitude that I want to have whether I use one grip-style or the other. The best word in the English language to describe the ideal is suppleness. Suppleness is an adjective meaning "bending and moving easily and gracefully; flexible" (Oxford English Dictionary). Other words that convey a similar idea are graceful, elegant, agile and deft. The opposite of suppleness is rigid, inflexible, stiff. The supple hand experiences the least friction, and so possesses the most speed, precision and stamina. In order to understand suppleness it is also important to understand that it is a way of controlling and using energy; mastering the physics of the energy that exists in the sphere of the drums.

Playing the drums is a physical activity which involves striking the surface of the drum, cymbal or other percussion instrument. It is an activity that produces a good amount of energy and heat. The motion I make when throwing and retrieving the stick reveals the level of suppleness I have obtained, and so the skill I possess in managing all that energy.

Here is a simple observation: gravity is a reality of our daily lives. Objects have weight because of the pull of the earth on them. This includes the sticks in my hand. If I release the stick, it falls. Seems obvious enough. But it's not our natural tendency to use this energy. We are prone to intervene, to overwork, to create friction. I want to move away from over-intervention. How do I learn to do that? Here are a couple of exercises to move towards greater suppleness.

First, if I release the stick over the surface of a drum, it bounces back a bit. In fact, if I hold the stick at it's fulcrum — the place on the shaft where there is a near-balance between tip and butt — I find that the tip of the stick will bounce multiple times on the surface, until it eventually comes to rest. If I drop the stick from a high enough position, it even seems to bounce back just below it's original starting point. I do my best to just get out of the way, and I find that the energy that emerges is free to run its' course. I do little but cause the fall to happen. Try this, without any action toward or away from the drum. It will feel dumb at first, because our natural tendency is to get involved, to do something. Remember, this is just an exercise; we are not making music, we are working at suppleness.

Second, I release the stick as before, but this time I allow for a certain number of bounces, say two or three, then I lift the stick up and let it drop again, until the time between the bounces becomes seamless. In order for this to happen, my hand must be relaxed and yet responsive to the motion and energy of the stick. I am simply controlling the energy, not creating it through any action towards the drum. I am lifting the stick away a bit perhaps, but I am not yet throwing it towards the drum. What am I doing? I am training my muscles to understand the nature of the energy that the stick and the drum produce. I am tuning myself to my instrument, not the other way around. I try this exercise on each drum and cymbal, because each will produce different response times as each possess different wave qualities.

Working towards a supple hand has a number of benefits, some I already mentioned, but one important benefit is the end of injury. When I first started playing my natural tendency was to hold onto the stick and in effect push it through the drum in order to get power. I was the driver. In fact, I used to think that using the dynamics of the drum was a kind of cheating, as I assumed that unless I muscled through it, it wasn't really playing. Odd thinking? Yep. The outcome was calloused, aching hands, broken sticks and heads and a few cracked cymbals. Now I realise that some drummers pride themselves on their scars and breaking drum heads, but you are doing it wrong. I can get as much or more power now, and I have not broken any sticks or heads in years. In fact I have to retire sticks because of warpage, not breakage. I change heads because they have outlived their tune-ability. I no longer get callouses or wake up after a gig with aching hands.

Some of this stuff began to dawn on me while engaged in another art. It was a revelation to me when a kendo instructor told me to cast the sword like a fisherman, holding it lightly. The principle being that a supple hand is a flowing and reflexive one. My natural inclination was to grip the bamboo sword, but I was getting in the way. My sensei was able to slap my sword out of my hands because I was too rigid, too controlling. Once I understood the need of suppleness, I was able to deflect blows by absorbing them. It sounds paradoxical, but giving up control allows for more elegant movements that actually create more control and finesse. I can become the manager of energy rather than it's creator or servant, preserving my own energy and stamina.

I hope the exercises are helpful. They are not an end in themselves, but a vehicle towards mastery. Until next time.

Yours in drums,
Christopher

Drum Physics, Pt. 2: A Primer on the Two Grip-Styles

Besides the nature of the sticks, there is also the question of how to hold them. There are a few aspects to this I want to cover. This includes the type of grip, suppleness, posture and energy. The main principle, the thing to aim at, is this: reduce friction as much as possible. When we reduce friction, we increase speed, energy, precision and stamina. The reduction of friction is an idea I will return to again and again. First though, a basic primer on the two grip-styles.

When I first started out playing on my dad's kit as a four-year-old I gave no thought to how to hold the sticks. My natural choice was to hold them in matched-grip style; one hand mirroring the other. I still use this style, as I am very comfortable with it, and alternate between it and the classic traditional-grip. I have found that both styles have their own unique sets of advantages. Here are some general distinctions between the different styles.

Matched-grip is the most natural way to hold the sticks. It is the most common among drummers of all kinds. People don't need to be taught this approach; we tend toward bilateral symmetry from an early age. Within this style there are a few variations. Traditionally the two main approaches have been called the German and the French grip. The former is a palms' down, all finger grip that employs the flexion and extension movement of the wrist. The latter is a palms-facing lateral approach and uses the ulnar and radial deviation movement of the wrist. In the French grip the fingers are the primary drivers as the ulnar-radial deviation of the wrist is much more limited than the flexion-extension movements of the German grip.

The traditional-grip style introduces asymmetry into the mix. One hand, usually the left, grips the stick in palm-up fashion, and the pronation and supination movement of the wrist and forearm are employed when striking the surface of the drum or cymbal. The stick rests in the fleshy webbing between the thumb and index finger. The index and middle finger rest on top of the stick, while the ring and pinky are bent inward to the palm. This grip was introduced as a way of striking a drum hanging at the waist of a military or marching drummer. The slope of the drum away from the soldier required it. When the drum kit was created, early drummers still angled their snares away from their bodies, creating a parallelism between the shaft of the stick and the surface of the drum. Some players still do this.

What I find with the traditional-grip is that I am far more conscious when using it, perhaps because of my being less familiar with the dynamics it provides and creates. But the necessity of two very different motor skills and technical movements requires a level of calmness and relaxation that matched-grip does not. Consider this. The human body sinks to certain actions when stress levels increase. One of these is bilateral-symmetry which is a simplification of motor-skills under physical and psychological duress. Police officers experience this sort of reflex when confronted by a threat and train against it in order to maintain the independent use of both limbs. When the heart rate, under stress, reaches 115 bpm, there is a noticeable loss of fine motor skills. In certain performance situations, this loss can hinder the ability to use the traditional-grip in an effective manner. In other words, all that subtle playing you did in the rehearsal room is all but lost. Ever notice how loud some drummers get in front of an audience? Some of that has to do with their heart-rate and stress level, which translates into a lack of subtlety. I don't want to go into too much detail here (more on physiological aspects later), but suffice it to say that traditional-grip requires more complex motor skills than matched-grip, and so requires a level of calm and control that the matched-grip does not. Just something to consider.

All this may be some of the reason that drummers tend to think of the traditional grip as the realm of the expert, and there is an aura of professionalism that surrounds those who use this style exclusively. It is not altogether an unfounded perception. Like the martial arts, we move through the Halls of Craft, honing our skills. In this case using both styles is a vehicle to all-around improvement and confidence. My advice is to practice all the rudiments around the kit alternating between both styles. Using one or the other exclusively is a limitation that may be a hinderance to further growth in later years.

Yours in drums,
Chris

Drum Physics, Pt. 1: The Sticks

Drums are a total instrument. I learned that from Elvin Jones. The kit is one instrument, not a bunch of disparate parts all stuck together. This includes those things we use to hit things: the sticks. How many times have I been handed a pair of sticks in a drum shop or by a well-meaning drummer that look like a couple of shredded wheat-bix? "You want me to play with these?" I think. It's like putting on a pair of shoes two sizes too small. For too many drummers the sticks are an after-thought. But, how much incomprehensible frustration and uncomfortable playing has been caused by the wrong choice of sticks? "Is it just me?" some ask. Maybe. But it just might be your sticks that are holding you back padawan.

There are a number of aspects to consider when choosing this element of our instrument.

First, the materials. Wood is still the most common and most popular material used for the sticks. There are some exotic synthetics available now, including carbon fibre and composites like sta-pac®. Yet, simple woods still dominate. There are reasons for this that transcend marketing. Wood has vibrational and aesthetic properties that no science lab has yet been able to duplicate. Wood is an orthotropic material with three mutually perpendicular axises: longitudinal, radial and tangential. What does this mean? Due to its cellular structure, wood is adaptive, resilient, and easily formed yet strong. Different types of wood possess sound qualities that make them ideal for musical instruments of different kinds. Wood has yet to be bested. (For those interested in the science see here for more).

The two major types of wood used for sticks are hickory and maple; oak and persimmon are also used but are less common. All of these possess qualities that create distinctive sonics.*

Of the two common types, maple is the less dense, softer and lighter wood. The cellular structure is larger, and because of this the vibrational qualities create warmer, deeper sounds on cymbals and drums. Sound travels slower through maple, and as such the waves are larger and thus lower than hickory. Don't take this as some kind of absolute scientific fact, but I tested both a maple and hickory stick on a ride cymbal using a spectrogram and the response of the cymbal was 1KHz lower than the hickory stick (both with tear-drop tips). The perception is that the maple sticks creates lower volumes, but the difference is actually the frequency, which requires higher volumes to be heard. "Warm" is the metaphor used when describing the frequencies of maple.

In terms of comfort, maple has some advantages over hickory, let alone oak. In the hand maple warms faster than the denser hickory. The vibrational aspect is lower, as mentioned before, and because of this the dissipation of energy is less intense; maple has a built-in dampening quality. The feeling of burning often experienced by those who grip the stick is less affective.

The transient response of the two types of wood varies. Some of this depends not just on the wood, but the form, diameter, type of tip on the stick and the skill or hand-technique of the player. But generally speaking, because of the cellular structure, maple tends to have a slower response, that is, a slower return after striking. Hickory is comparably stiffer, and as such has a slightly quicker return. I am not sure what the exact differences are mathematically, but in my experience this is a distinguishing quality between the two types of wood.

Second, the form. There are six facets to every stick: the butt, the shaft, the shoulder, the taper, the tip and the over-all length.** Each of these plays a role in the dynamics, sound qualities, transient response and relational comfort of the stick. I choose a butt and shaft size that fits my hand, and in my case it is a larger .595"/1.51 cm up to a .610"/1.55 cm diameter and a generally longer stick. I buy Vic Firth*** sticks, and the two models that I have found to work for me are the AJ1 (16"/ 40.64 cm L) and the SD10 (16 1/8" / 40.96 cm L). Although these designs have a large butt and shaft, they both have tapers that are quite long, providing a response that is fast and easy.

The tips on both models are the acorn or tear-drop type. Compared to other shapes, this one seems to provide the most contact with the surface of the cymbal and the drum head leading to greater spread, texture and volume. Other tips have different properties, like a more focused sound, that is very specific and contained, sharp. Others, such as barrel or round, may provide a quicker response.

Besides the models I mentioned above, I also keep a few standard 5B's and the smaller and lighter AJ6 around for different playing situations. The four models seem to cover any playing situation I might find myself in, and they each have different dynamics that I like. Out of the four only the SD10 is maple. I do have a couple of pairs of some maple sticks from Canada called Headhunters. They are hard to find in stores, but if you come across them, try them out.

Having said all this, there are some players that seem to defy the apparent physics of the stick. I have a pair of Thomas Lang sticks that I bought out of curiosity, as they are some of the heaviest and largest tipped sticks I have ever seen played by a pop-jazz player. Lang plays highly technical, subtle and fast jazz with these monsters (.650" / 1.65 cm D). Lang created a stick that fits his abilities and needs. His effortless attack seems to speak to the way in which a highly refined hand-technique precedes the design of a stick. More on this aspect of physics in a later post.

Some Advice
When deciding on a stick, I suggest starting with some of the base-line or standard models that have stood the test of time: 7A, SD4, 85A, 5A, 5B, and the 2B. These designs are good starting markers, like guiding stars, within the ever growing constellation of stick designs. They are standard sizes among all the manufacturers as well, although there are slight differences between each version. Between these models are all the variations and exotic design spin-offs with non-standard names like "Manhattan Jazz" that can overwhelm the padawan drummer. Once you know where you are it is easier to sail out into the wilds.

Find a drum store where the staff will let you have some fun trying out a variety of sticks on pads and on a drum-kit. The better shops are staffed with guys who will not frown on this.

Have fun.

*I am not going to talk about nylon tipped sticks. They possess their own qualities that some drummers find helpful. I used them on a few occasions, but found them awkward and have not used them since.

** Who came up with the anthropomorphic descriptions? Presumably, some guy going through Freudian therapy.

***By the way, I am not a Vic Firth endorser, and this is not an ad. I have tried many stick brands over the years, and have just landed on Vic's after trying to find the right fit for me. There are a number of great stick manufacturers out there. What I am writing here is due to a long process of elimination over 25 years of playing.

Co-opting the Arts?

When one moves from the northern to the southern hemisphere, the shift in context is total. Even the stars suffer a topsy-turvy turn, and the sunlight that once intuitively directed in the right direction now quietly deceives; a sorted of mysterious cheated feeling sinks in. Why can’t I find north? This is especially troubling when one is trying to give it a go at social assimilation, because even when one might feel like they’ve “got it”, a persistent niggle says otherwise. Blame it on astronomy maybe, or just a stubborn disposition, either way it can make for long nights.

As I am a recent émigré to the city of Adelaide from the United States — somewhere near Seattle, best known as the stomping grounds of Kurt Cobain, K Records and home to the world’s best coffee (not Starbuck’s!) — the slow process of “getting it” has just begun. As a designer and musician, I have been deeply curious about just what makes up the “art industry” in this part of the wonderful world. The seeming abundance of bands, venues, nightly gigs and regular festivals were motivating factors in moving here, and I am looking forward to getting to know as many musos and others involved in what appears to be a flowering culture of the arts. But up to this point I had been naive about the way things are done here. As I started digging, I found some aspects that were quite surprising, and felt like I had to write this stuff down to help myself come to terms with what is a very different structure than what I knew back in the States — not to say better or worse, just very different. I am talking more about the business side of things and, to be blunt, how deeply involved the SA government seems to be with artists and many major events (their logo seems to appear on just about everything… http://www.creativesa.org/). The following is a sort of personal list of pros and cons about government involvement in the arts, and my attempt at a brain twist to see things from what is a new perspective for me.

Naturally, I start with the negations. Obviously these will grow out of a bunch of prior assumptions I bring with me from my past experience. “This doesn’t taste like Swiss chocolate” can only be spoken by those who have tasted. I have always worked best if I line up the sticky-wickets and have a go. So, first, the cons.

Government is designed — and more specifically Australian democratic government — as an egalitarian entity, representing the just interests of every person as far as they are able. This is a noble perspective when it comes to juridical concerns and should be applauded, but in the field of aesthetics, it means a flattening of expectations. In other words, everyone should have access, but by the very principle of equal-share implied by the political philosophy, no one can be excluded. Every artist that seeks funding or support is by virtue of an equal society free to share in that society’s tax-funded services. Now whether this actually happens is questionable, but the basic principle of government supported arts, implies that every citizen who claims to be an artist should have access, regardless of the quality or lasting significance of their work. No curating is allowed.

Government investment in the arts stifles profitable, private investment and a competitive, artistic marketplace. A lasting music industry infrastructure cannot compete with government “free” services that are the purvey of the private sector. Granted, the expansive industry in the United States has been problematic and at times presented a seemingly impenetrable wall to the working artist. For many it is just a monster. But there can be no doubt that it has also been the source of deep and lasting economic and artistic advancement for those who have worked within and understood the ins and outs of the institution. The experience and work-ethic of the U.S. music scene is driven by an entrepreneurial spirit that is based soundly on enterprise free from government investment or involvement. That same infrastructure could not have come into existence if government had offered services or access that competed with the private sector. Not to twist the thorn, but it is still a common story that an Australian artist must go elsewhere to “make it” and the reason for this may lie in the government’s misguided attempts at creating an industry. (The story of FORMAT (1), (2) is one to ponder in regards to government subsidies and the control of artistic direction).

Government involvement in the arts has the potential to stifle expressions of political and social dissent. A key ingredient of many great works as well as musical movements throughout history has been an open wrestling with the question of legitimate authority and the abuse thereof. Poetic dissent has been a motivating factor behind the American jazz scene, the international punk rock movement, many of the great Jamaican roots songs, and even rock and roll to varying degrees. Imagine Joe Strummer writing the lyrics to “Clamp Down” whilst on the government payroll or “Robert Nestor Marley, Government Musician”. Disingenuous perhaps? For both the government and the artist to maintain their integrity, it is necessary that both keep to their respective fields, and recognize the roles each are responsible to fulfill.

Government involvement with the arts requires a secular or neutralist bias towards the arts. This is less true in those contexts in which a particular faith or religious expression is generally accepted, but within an egalitarian, democratic political structure the irony is that those artists who hold to a particular faith-expression will face exclusion on the basis of the very ideals that are meant to protect personal freedoms. Government oversight and sponsorship requires that no one form of religious, artistic expression be put forth as the final truth. The government is not necessarily free to discriminate between religions, but the presence of government sponsored work suggests that it must do so in its role as representative of all citizens.

And now, the pros…
Government sponsorship of the arts could make possible the creation of work that exists without the marketplace in mind. The public, buying audience may not have the taste or foresight to accept and support artists that are ahead of their time, that express a motive that is not yet communally expressed. Government sponsorship can sustain the creative work of an artist for future success, for a time when the market is ready.

Government sponsorship can provide time to work for the art’s sake, to create works that are experimental and educational for the artist themselves and not for a paycheck or stipend. Great works are often born when no particular end is in mind. This takes time and economic freedom, two things that are difficult to come by when the artist is working a day job to support themselves and perhaps a family as well.

Government sponsorship may create a more communal, social awareness in the artist.

Conclusion
After sorting through my list, I found myself still unsure of just what to conclude. My prior assumptions make me want to error on the side of total privatization: get government out of the “industry” completely. But that seems unrealistic given how dependent SA is as a festival state, and the government funding of most of the major events that take place here. The notion of non-profit driven music endeavors is simply bad-business where I come from, but the abundance of artists and the opportunities to showcase work is refreshing. Balancing out economic concerns with the social benefits is not always easy, and when it comes to the arts, the social aspect can oftentimes trump the economic. Artists don’t mind starving as long as they get to make their art. But sustaining artistic growth, especially for musicians, will require a more long-term solution, one that must eventuate in economic sustainability, that is, home-grown, profit-making music businesses and events.

In the past patronage was enacted by private citizens, the Medici family of Florence being the classic model of the perfect benefactors. Michelangelo was a recipient of Lorenzo’s generosity, and the world benefitted. In lieu of any private sponsorship, governmental sponsorship may suffice at least temporarily. I take it as a truism that the wealthy have an obligation to support the arts, to be patrons of artists and to care for their welfare. Not simply as investors in past works or forms, but as supporters of future artists in all areas of creativity and new forms of expression.