As a high school student, my favourite place in the school was actually not the band room, surprisingly (though it was certainly my second-favourite). No, my preferred hangout spot when I wasn't chatting with friends or making a nuisance of myself was the band library. I was very lucky to have a band director who understood my fascination with the music that inhabited our library, a director who allowed me access to the area and gave me the opportunity to look at scores and parts for works which I had never heard (and in some cases, would not hear for many, many years). I was enthralled by the wonderful titles of those works: …and the mountains rising nowhere, Hammersmith, Solitary Dancer, To Be Fed by Ravens, Molly on the Shore, The Leaves are Falling, Flag of Stars, and many, many more.
Today, I realise how silly it must sound to others to be captivated by a work's title alone, without ever having heard the actual music. To my high school-aged self, however...these titles were compelling. Also compelling was the look of the engraving (even back then, I marveled at how different the layout could be from one publisher to another), the feel of the music, and most of all, the smell of it (particularly those very old Hindsley transcriptions that seem to make it into most older libraries). At one point, I had just about the entire FBA (Florida Bandmasters Association) Concert Music List memorized - something my former band director Neil Jenkins (a man who would later become my colleague, when I returned to teach at my alma mater) could attest to. Never mind the fact that I could not have hummed a single melody for most of these works.
Of course, as I progressed through my undergraduate degree at Florida State University, I was exposed to much of the music I had previously only known by title, thanks to Jim Croft, Pat Dunnigan, and Bentley Shellahamer, and the various ensembles they conducted. It was then that it began to dawn on me that a captivating title did not necessarily make for a captivating work...only the compositional craft of the composer could do that. I was no longer enthralled by a work's title alone...I now needed more for a piece of wind band music to stand out. I suppose it was one of the many lessons I learned along the way to becoming a wind band conductor.
Today, I realise how silly it must sound to others to be captivated by a work's title alone, without ever having heard the actual music. To my high school-aged self, however...these titles were compelling. Also compelling was the look of the engraving (even back then, I marveled at how different the layout could be from one publisher to another), the feel of the music, and most of all, the smell of it (particularly those very old Hindsley transcriptions that seem to make it into most older libraries). At one point, I had just about the entire FBA (Florida Bandmasters Association) Concert Music List memorized - something my former band director Neil Jenkins (a man who would later become my colleague, when I returned to teach at my alma mater) could attest to. Never mind the fact that I could not have hummed a single melody for most of these works.
Of course, as I progressed through my undergraduate degree at Florida State University, I was exposed to much of the music I had previously only known by title, thanks to Jim Croft, Pat Dunnigan, and Bentley Shellahamer, and the various ensembles they conducted. It was then that it began to dawn on me that a captivating title did not necessarily make for a captivating work...only the compositional craft of the composer could do that. I was no longer enthralled by a work's title alone...I now needed more for a piece of wind band music to stand out. I suppose it was one of the many lessons I learned along the way to becoming a wind band conductor.
When I returned to my alma mater to teach some years later, I took on the responsibility of going through the band library to re-organize it and catalog it, so that we would better know what we had, where it was, and how to access it quickly. It took me the better part of an academic year (we had quite a nice collection), and it prepared me for later re-organizations - especially the one I am going through right now. This being a blog about wind band music and all of its related aspects, I thought it made perfect sense to discuss that place where we store the most important element that helps our wind bands "go," indeed, our life's blood, and our curriculum: The music itself.
In my experience, most band libraries (whether at the secondary or tertiary levels) look like one of these two pictures:
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| Good ol' side-loading folders... |
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| Boxes for days... |
Perhaps one of these setups looks familiar to you?
Mind you, I'm not here to "throw shade" at anyone who uses either system. After all, money is hard to come by in most programs, and the budget is better spent on instruments and new music, rather than new methods of storage. Time is also a limited resource for band directors, and that time is better spent teaching lessons, running rehearsals, and a myriad other responsibilities. Who has time to re-organize an entire band library? Well...YOU do.
Not all by yourself, of course, unless you've got a very small library. In my current re-organization, I have student volunteers from time to time, and I also use one hour of library time as a make-up assignment for excused absences in my ensembles. We have roughly 1700 works in our library, and though I started this project at the beginning of the year, I am only up through 730 right now. It is a long process, but the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.
By sorting, re-organizing, and re-cataloguing the library, I am able to do several things, all of which I feel are important (and some of which may be appealing to you as well):
1. I am able to ascertain which pieces of music are missing (and in some cases have been missing for many years)...I can now either remove them from the database listing, purchase replacement sets, or try to find out who they were loaned out to.
2. I am able to find duplicate sets. In some cases, someone in the past purchased a new set without awareness that we already owned one. These duplicate sets can be sold (always check with your administration and GET PERMISSION to do so first), or given away, or simply incorporated into one large set.
3. I am able to ascertain which sets are missing a score, or an oboe 1 part, or a tuba part, etc. This saves me a lot of frustration later when selecting music for a program only to discover that I am missing all the horns and cannot perform the work.
4. I am able to use software (I use FileMaker Pro) to keep track of performances, who the music is checked out to, difficulty level, and can even keep information for future performances, like program notes.
The following is what a typical entry in my FileMaker Pro database looks like (note: this software is HIGHLY customizable, hence my specific tabs...you may find similar software useful, or even just use Microsoft Excel).
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| Typical database entry |
As you can see, I am able to keep track of a great variety of information. When I am finished, I will also be able to see when a piece of music was last performed, what parts are missing, publisher information (in case I need to order more parts or a score), and much more. The keywords I enter now will allow me to program a concert around a theme, if so desired. Program notes can also be stored here for the next time a work is performed (or even in anticipation, if you find notes for the work on the WRP).
FileMaker Pro will also print out a numbered list, as well as a list by title, and by composer...really, any type of list you feel would be helpful as a hard copy. We keep this hard copy list in the library itself, so that someone can simply browse the list instead of having to go directly into the software (and we have a student librarian who will then "check out" the piece to the corresponding faculty member).
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| List format |
For me, this re-cataloguing is only one part of the process, however...and here is where I will reveal my deep loathing of those ubiquitous white music storage boxes. Again, I am not criticizing those of you who prefer them; we all have valid reasons for our preferences. But, they just do not work for me, for a variety of reasons that I feel merit some thought.
1. A lot of wind band music will not fit correctly in the boxes (which can cause damage to the music). I almost wept when I opened up a box to find the very large parts for Strauss' Suite in B-flat, Op. 4, folded in half to fit into one of these boxes. Oh, the humanity!
2. The boxes are all one size, and fairly inflexible. You can easily end up with a box that is overflowing or packed to the gills with music, while the box next to it is barely full because the set is so small:
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| Gah! Wasted space... |
3. The boxes themselves take up a lot of shelf space, and it is easy to run out of room in a smaller library (not to mention that they are a royal pain to open up sometimes).
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| Boxy boxy boxes... |
So...now that I am done complaining...you may be asking, "what do YOU use, then?" Well, what I like is a system of filing cabinets (ubiquitous at most academic institutions) with top-loading folders (for easy access). As far as I am aware, only one company is currently making the large top-loading folders (please let me know if there are others), while most other companies make side-loading folders (which are not great in file cabinets - top-loading allows you to easily take a look at the music, side-loading means that you'd have to take the entire folder out, which adds to the wear-and-tear). These particular folders are pretty sturdy, they are not just cheap paper, but rather something more akin to card stock (though not as thick). I highly recommend them.
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Sleek and easy to access...
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I then print out labels for each work (this can be automated in FileMaker or Excel, by the way), using Shipping Labels (Avery 5163), and the result is a much neater, much more accessible way of storing music. It also ends up taking less space than the boxes, so if space is at a premium for you, you may want to investigate. What if a score is too large for the envelope? No worries - I print out a little reminder to myself (or whoever might be looking for it) that the score is being kept in the OVERSIZE area (I also put a note in the database):
Incidentally, if you are interested in a blank copy of the FileMaker Pro file that I use (which you can then format and customize as you see fit), please contact me and I'll be happy to send one along.
Probably the best "side-effect" of a library re-organization is the discovery of works and composers I was not previously aware of. It really gives one a sense of how much music was being churned out by myriad composers that did not stand the test of time. Names like Joseph Olivadotti, Harold Walters (he of Instant Concert fame), George Thaddeus Jones, and Carl Frangkiser are ever-present...it wasn't all Persichetti, Holst, Dello Joio, or Grainger back then. Also, Frank Erickson wrote approximately one billion pieces for wind band, though only the 2-3 we know today have survived the filter of time. Publishers like Bourne and Belwin and Robbins and Rubank seemed to dominate publishing in the 40s and 50s, though familiar names such as Boosey & Hawkes and Carl Fischer were active back then as well. Also interesting are the wind band conventions from the infancy of our genre, such as condensed scores, D-flat piccolos, E-flat horns, and the stubborn practice of calling an E-flat Contra Alto Clarinet an "E-flat ContraBASS Clarinet."
The moral of the story is - if your library is in need of an extreme makeover, you'll find that you'll learn quite a bit about long-term trends in the wind band world in addition to tidying up and making your operation run smoother. You will come to better understand the ephemeral nature of musical trends and the cyclical nature of our craft.
And you just might find that pesky missing Bassoon 1 part for the Persichetti Symphony buried in the parts for the Gould Symphony, like I just did (and there was much rejoicing)!
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