This topic was on my mind and thought I’d bring it up here.
Where do you cut the airstream?
In a Scoiltrad lesson Conal Ó Gráda says he cuts his airstream so that the majority goes into the flute and only the upper bit cuts across the edge of the blowhole.
I’ve read that Conal’s method is more common among traditional and/or wooden flute players and that Boehm and/or classical players do the opposite.
Any insight from our longterm players?
Cheers,
Aaron
He’s probably refering to the way the airstream is directed at the opposite edge of the embouchure hole. This is why I roll my headjoint in a bit and give it a little lip as they say. It directs the air more towards the opposite end of the chimney and down a little, rather than right across the hole as classical technique does. It’s hard to explain, but you know it when you find it. A useful thing to try is to also direct your airstream a little towards the right-hand corner of the hole. Don’t ask me why, but it works. Pushing the flute out to the left a bit seems to be the easiest way to do this. Hope this helps.
Corin
Corin said: “Pushing the flute out to the left a bit seems to be the easiest way to do this. Hope this helps.”:
By this, do you mean…pushing the foot end of the flute away from you ?
I really think they mean it “feels” like your directing more into the embrsure…what you actually want is the maximum amount of air oscillating in and out …of course you may vary it a bit to “bend” the note into tune…losing a bit of volume when you do…
Jack
directing the airstream vertically into the mouth hole generally takes iron lips so that the low end of the flute can be filled to produce a powerful tone, the tone generally associated with itrad fluting… strong tight lips are needed to blow vertically as it offsets the back pressure created, and creates a full strong tone in the low end of the flute. the upper lip also needs to be close to the hole, needs to be firm, and also needs to be the about the exact size of the uncovered portion of the mouth hole. this helps shorten the passage of the breath from the mouth to the flute and also won’t allow the breath to spread and subsequently diminish the tone. firmness of the upper lip supports and directs the airstream.
blowing across the far edge of the mouth hole and thus relying on the edge to split the airstream will not generally support a powerful tone in the low end of the flute; tone is apt to diminish as it lowers and generally does not emphasize a firm upper lip.
the key is to develop the proper kind of embouchure or way of blowing if one wants a powerful reedy tone, particuliarly in the low end of the flute.
oh yeah, it generally takes a bit of practice - simply to develop the muscles that are involved in forming the embouchure of the ironlips!!!
I think it has to do with degree of “darkness” or “edge” desired. And I’m quite certain that most of your more advanced Boehm players do exactly the same thing when they want that particular dark tonal color – at least I was taught to; and from my experience, close listening to the lower registers of most pro classical players will confirm this.
People like Jean-Pierre Rampal, etc. play with what used to be called a more “French” style, which is “sweeter” and “lighter” – but if you listen to his low notes, they’re not that far off from the “dark” quality many of us strive for with our wooden flutes, either – even though he’s on a 24k gold Boehm or whatever he’s got now.
Personally, I’ve actually had to learn to bear down a bit LESS on my particular wooden flute as it has very little chimney to work with – but nonetheless, my old “frowning/ironlips” years-in-the-development classical embouchure still serves me well – especially when it comes to getting good sound out of a big ole Bb flute.
Just FWIW … but the sound quality Conal addresses is no stranger in Boehm territory – good sound that carries and has character is universally good!
I’m afraid right now he’s playing the harp. He had a famously huge first octave, though, when he was in this world.
Glauber, who says there aren’t flutes in heaven?
What she said.
There better be, or I ain’t goin’.
Amen to that!
And holy Haynes, I do live in the backwoods. 
When did he take the final bow?
Although I’m a wee bit glad for the mistake because that was QUITE funny, glauber! 
Yea verily, I shall so miss JP;
to me he was the epitome.
<ooh, that was bad>
Rampal was an oustanding classical flutist in every way.
I like James Galway a lot, he gets a really powerful sound out of his flute, but Rampal had an elegance and control and a joy in the music that set him far apart from his peers. He just may have been the best flutist of the 20th century, and I grieved when I learned he was dead.
He was also a major influence in the post-war “Baroque Revival” and in re-establishing the flute as a solo instrument in general.
–James
There’s no comparison, as far as I’m concerned. We’ve been blessed with many great players, all of whom have their strengths and illuminating approaches to things … but IMO, no one could touch Rampal. Power, range, precision, control, technique, infinite variety of tone colors and fabulous interpretive ability: plus, maybe most important, impeccable taste. He had the whole package.
May 20, 2000.
I had a flute lesson that day, and my teacher was a good friend of JPR’s; she had just got the phone call. We decided to go on with the lesson in his honor. It was a very emotional lesson, as you can imagine. Later she played in his memorial service, with Rostropovich. I wish i could have heard that.
Rampal is quite simply the reason i play flute. I was fascinated by an album called Le Flute D’Or de Jean-Pierre Rampal (probably misspelled! but meaning “J.P.R’s Golden Flute”) where he plays Tomaso Albioni’s Gm adagio (called Le Celebre Adagio – i.e.: “The Famous Adagio” there). I think that was still with his Louis Lot gold flute (he later switched to a Hayes 14K). The liner notes said that Rampal feels the flute has “the voice of humanity”. I haven’t listened to that album in 15 years, and i still remember parts of it.
He wasn’t a perfect flutist, of course, but he really made the flute sing. I saw him live only once, in the Opera theater in Rio de Janeiro, with John-Steele Ritter (piano). No amplification. It wasn’t loud, but their sound filled that enormous theater perfectly.
I also hope there are flutes in heaven; but i thought it was a good joke.
g
Glauber, I could envy you that you got to see him in a live performance. I never did.
Irish trad moves along at a pretty good clip, but it doesn’t touch the speed of some classical music and that Rampal in particular had at his command.
I remember reading his hands had been measured at over 100 movements a second when playing. That sounds like an unbelievable number till you hear him play something that the Telemann Fantasias, and realize that as fast as he was playing, it still wasn’t nearly as fast as he could have gone.
He played on an entirely different level that most of us not only cannot achieve but simply aren’t even really aware of. Genius is not too strong a word.
–James
Oh yes. As a matter of fact, i think he recorded the Fantasias way too fast and without enough variation. My theory is that he played them that way so they would all fit in one LP.
Rampal was at the right place at the right time; just when hifi recordings where getting good, and when the flute had been neglected as a solo instrument for at least 50 years. He was able to correct that. He was tirelessly digging up old and new flute music, for recording and publication. He must have worked 30 hours a day. I enjoy his recordings of Gershwin and Scott Joplin, for example.
Galway is probably the closest thing to Rampal in terms of energy and productivity, even though his style is very different.
In his old age, Rampal was known to have several friendships with young female fluters. 
They thought it was cute and played along. One of these “paramours” was in Brazil, so he visited my country a few times, but i only saw him once.
g
I saw him once in recital with John Steele Ritter as well. I was about 16 at the time, and it completely changed me. In fact, I was working on that old couch-thumper ‘Theme & Variations on The Carnival of Venice’ at the time, and when I heard his lovely, whimsical take on it … well, I suddenly realized all my technical brilliance was such a small part of the equation; that there was soooo much more to this instrument (and to music in general) than a 16-year-old’s pyrotechnics!
So I guess you could say I went from being an accomplished dabbler to wanting to be a “real flute player” in the space of that two hours.
Indeed, it was an epiphany and I immediately began practicing 4 -5 hours a day
But the results were worth it, although I alas shall never sound like that (especially now that the Boehm lies gathering dust in favor of the Hammy). But I guess you could say he changed my life.