I like Murray Gusseck. I don’t know the guy personally, only his work and reputation. I think he’s brought some interesting concepts to the world of drumline and I like some of the pieces he’s written for battery. I may not always agree with what he teaches, but I respect him and what he’s doing. So make no mistake: what I’m about to write is in no way intended to insult him or make him look bad.

You see, I watched part of the Santa Clara Vanguard audition DVD, namely the Push/Pull exercise, presented by Mr. Gusseck. And, I took some notes because what I observed made me think about a point I’d made in my original post regarding fulcrum theory.

The push/pull technique is a good technique. For me, it’s an alternative technique, and I use a variation of it when I need to accomplish something my default technique would not accomplish as well. Gusseck’s demonstration of his use of this technique was something I was very interested in watching.

He starts by demonstrating the technique with his right hand, holding the stick in a relaxed manner we’ve all come to know: thumb on the side of the stick, fingers gently wrapped around with the index finger across from the thumb. Note that the tip of the index finger is off the stick in a “dangle” position.

He starts by giving the viewer a stroke-by-stroke demonstration of the technique used to play the exercise, showing the reaction of the stick’s first stroke as it strikes the drumhead. During the downstroke, Gusseck’s thumb moves back so that it is no longer across from his index finger but instead across from his middle finger. Immediately, the stick rebounds and points up (see photo below). As he makes this demonstration, he talks about using the middle finger as the fulcrum. By moving the thumb back so that it is across from the middle finger he does, indeed, create a pivot point.

Note how the fingers are in a very straight, pointed position. They’re also all pointed in the same direction, including thumb.

As he “pulls” for the second stroke, the thumb moves back to its original position, across from the index finger. The hand is now around the stick in the original starting grip.

However, when he goes on to demonstrate the full exercise at a regular tempo, his thumb does not move back so that it rests across from the middle finger during the first stroke. Instead, it stays across from his index finger, which is loosely placed around the stick. His stick pivots at this thumb/index finger junction during the exercise. Thus, his fulcrum is not a middle finger-oriented fulcrum, but instead remains with the combination of the thumb and index finger.

What Gusseck is actually doing is moving the primary leverage control from the index finger to the middle finger by loosening the index finger’s wrap around the stick; you can see the index finger’s tip not in full contact with the stick, in “dangle” position, thus lessening its leverage control. This means the grip is very relaxed and loose. Also note how the position of all the fingers is different from the prior photos that show his stroke-by-stroke demonstration: they’re open but there is a bit of curvature. In the actual application of this exercise, his stroke is different from his demonstration.

As I said at the start of this post, I like Murray Gusseck. There are many things that can be learned from him. In the case of this video performance, however, we learn something different than what he’s telling us. From his physical demonstration of both the stroke-by-stroke example and his full exercise performance, we can extrapolate that the push/pull technique is a perfectly useful technique, but claiming that the technique uses a middle finger fulcrum is not correct. His performance shows us that the middle finger is used as the primary leverage control of the stroke but is not an actual fulcrum itself. Referring to my original essay, a fulcrum is a pivot point, and when the thumb and index finger are in contact with the stick across from each other, no matter how loose the index finger is on the stick, that is the pivot point.

Unfortunately, in this particular case, Gusseck’s vocal information about a “middle finger fulcrum” contradicts what he is playing. This is an important distinction because when instruction clashes with demonstration, students may not learn the correct lesson.

The use of the fulcrum has, to my knowledge, been a greatly examined topic and subject to much experimentation, especially in regards to match grip mechanics (which is what this post deals with). I’ve observed more attention being brought to it in the past decade or so, maybe because of my particular environment and who I know. Or perhaps it’s been the introduction of different techniques in the drumline arena, or maybe it’s just the natural result of furthering, enhancing, and gaining knowledge of our craft.

I’ve observed that several texts and teachers have tried to explain the concept of the fulcrum in ways that I, personally, think is either confusing or contradicting to science and definition; I say “contradicting” because I want to avoid saying “incorrect”… even though I feel compelled to do so. I want to avoid the impression that there is a correct and incorrect technique (unless it is harmful, of course). But, let’s face it: some of these explanations just don’t make sense, scientifically, or at least they’re being explained in one way while they actually mean something else, which doesn’t follow my philosophy of saying what you mean and meaning what you say.

First, some definitions. Let’s start with the fulcrum, since that’s the topic:

Fulcrum
Merriam-Webster provides this definition…

• The support about which a lever turns.

…and Dictionary.com aggregates these:

• The support, or point of rest, on which a lever turns in moving a body. (Random House Dictionary)
• The point or support on which a lever pivots. (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition and The American Heritage Stedman’s Medical Dictionary)
• The point or support on which a lever turns. The position of the fulcrum, relative to the positions of the load and effort, determines the type of lever. (The American Heritage Science Dictionary)

I like this last one because it provides a diagram:

The American Heritage Science Dictionary
Copyright 2002 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

In the end, the fulcrum is basically a pivot point for a lever. And this begs the question, what is a lever?

Lever
Merriam-Webster says…

• A rigid piece that transmits and modifies force or motion when forces are applied at two points and it turns about a third; specifically : a rigid bar used to exert a pressure or sustain a weight at one point of its length by the application of a force at a second and turning at a third on a fulcrum.

…and Dictionary.com aggregates the following:

• A rigid bar that pivots about one point and that is used to move an object at a second point by a force applied at a third. (Dictionary.com itself)
• A simple machine consisting of a bar that pivots on a fixed support, or fulcrum, and is used to transmit torque. A force applied by pushing down on one end of the lever results in a force pushing up at the other end. If the fulcrum is not positioned in the middle of the lever, then the force applied to one end will not yield the same force on the other, since the torque must be the same on either side of the fulcrum. Levers, like gears, can thus be used to increase the force available from a mechanical power source. (The American Heritage Science Dictionary)
• A simple machine consisting of a rigid bar pivoted on a fixed point and used to transmit force, as in raising or moving a weight at one end by pushing down on the other. (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition)

This last one comes with a diagram that is similar to the previous diagram.

Essentially, a lever is a straight, rigid device (such as a bar, but a plank of wood can be a lever, too, right?) that rests upon a fulcrum. Force is applied at one point (the effort) causing the lever to pivot at the fulcrum, thus moving another point on the lever (the load).

One more definition, okay?

Leverage
This one is pretty simple. Both Merriam-Webster and Dictionary.com both define “leverage” as “the action of a lever.”

The point?
Alright, alright… the point… as in the pivot point.

If the fulcrum is the pivot point, then the way the hand grips the stick in the match grip means that the thumb and the index finger form the fulcrum of the stick. It’s that simple.

First, let’s talk about the other fulcrum that everyone talks about but no one calls a fulcrum because… well… it’s just easier to say wrist. If you view a stick being held in the right hand from the thumb-side view – with the bead on your left and the hand gripping the stick on your right – then from left to right you have the load (the stick), the effort (your grip on the stick), and the fulcrum (your wrist). If you do not open your fingers and simply raise the stick using only your wrist, then your wrist is indeed the fulcrum as your wrist is the pivot upon which the lever – your hand – is moved.

Now, take a look at the hand. If you open your fingers away from the palm during the upstroke initiated by the wrist, then your stick is the second lever in the system. From left to right, you’ve got the load (the bead, taper, and shaft of the stick), the fulcrum (your thumb and index finger), and the effort (the opening of your fingers to allow momentum to move the stick inside your hand, while always keeping contact with the stick). Momentum is caused by the load traveling upwards, thus causing the butt of the stick to travel downwards along with the opening of the fingers. You, the drummer, control this momentum by determining how much your fingers come away from the palm.

During the downstroke, your wrist as the fulcrum puts the lever – the hand – into playing position and the stick travels with the lever. For a single note and staccato notes, your fingers close back to the palm so that the stick pivots at the fulcrum and returns to a level position with the hand. For multiple legato notes, your fingers either remain open and let the stick rest inside the fingers, barely pivoting at the thumb/index finger fulcrum along with the momentum of each up and downstroke, or, depending on the speed and stick height, the fingers slightly “pull” the stick towards the palm with every downstroke to aid the wrist in stroking the stick, thus obviously pivoting the stick at the thumb/index finger fulcrum.

Now, let’s take a look at this thumb and index finger combination.

Generally, most drummers would agree that the thumbpad will be on the stick so that the thumb is parallel to it. The use of the index finger differs from drummer to drummer: it can either be wrapped around, loosely wrapped around with the fingertip slightly off of the stick, very loose so that the finger dangles a bit, or the index finger can be “pointing” off of the stick. Some drummers change the tension of the index finger wrap depending on what they are playing and how fast or slow.

You’ll notice that no matter the how loose or secure the index finger is around the stick, it touches the stick at all times; at its most loose, the back part of the finger at the hand is always on top of the stick, meaning that as the stick arcs up, the index finger is “in the way” and the stick will have no choice but to pivot against it with the thumb as the index finger’s counterpart. This thumb/index finger combination creates an axis so long as the index finger stays on the stick. Therefore, the thumb and index finger combination is the fulcrum in all cases. The looser the index finger around the stick, the less secure that part of the fulcrum and the more reliant you are on the thumb as the secure part and your back fingers to control the effort of movement.

Some teachers have talked about moving the fulcrum to the middle finger. Technically, this can’t be done unless you completely remove the index finger from the stick. First, as long as it stays on the stick, no matter how loose, the thumb/index finger combination remains present, so the stick will pivot against that. Second, as long as the thumb stays on the stick, that is where the stick will pivot because the effort of movement remains behind the thumb: the fingers.

Third, in order for the middle finger to be a part of the fulcrum system, it must become a pivot point. In order to do this, either the middle finger must move forward on the stick so that it rests across from the thumb, thus stretching out the finger and reducing its curl around the stick, or the thumb must move back on the stick so that it rests across from the middle finger, which means you’d be tucking your thumb into your hand. In the former case, your grip would be very, very loose and so would the fulcrum. In order to add security to the fulcrum, you would have to pinch the middle finger and thumb together, causing greater tension in a grip that has become open with the stretching out of the middle finger, which kind of defeats the purpose of this loose grip. Also, the in order to get the index finger completely off the stick, you have to lift if up and keep it off the stick, which means the index finger doesn’t get to relax. Of course, you could allow the index finger’s tip to rest on the stick, allowing it to relax, but then it’s just in the way of the upstroke. After some experimentation, I figure this type of grip would be okay for playing quietly, but not loudly. However, I can play just as relaxed, loose, and quiet with my index finger as part of my fulcrum system.

In the latter case of the thumb being tucked into the hand, doing so to meet the middle finger’s original position results in a very scrunched, uncomfortable, unstable, tense grip. For me, personally, it also hurts the back of my hand.

In both cases, it renders the index finger useless, which goes against my philosophy of, “If you have five fingers, put them all to use.”

Here’s a hypothetical situation: the hand grips the stick with the match grip and the index finger is loosely around the stick. If the goal is to move the fulcrum to the middle of the hand, that would mean the stick must pivot there in order to follow the literal definition of “fulcrum”. For sake of argument, let’s place the hypothetical fulcrum at the middle finger and, for sake of argument, we’ll leave the thumb in it’s original position. How will the stick pivot at the middle finger, located in the middle of the hand, if the front of the hand is in the way?

Here’s an experiment to go with the hypothetical situation: Grip the stick in the hand of your choice. Hold the stick with your opposite hand at the bead and taper. Now, leaving your gripping hand in the same position, simply let your index finger naturally dangle off the stick so that, while your hand looks the same from the top, the finger is no longer touching the bottom of the stick. Now, with your opposite hand, create an upwards arc with the stick to emulate an upstroke, but don’t flex the wrist. Only let your remaining fingers move with the stick. Watch the stick rotate in your hand while keeping an eye on our hypothetical pivot point: the middle of the hand at the middle finger. Notice how the front of the hand is in the way? This causes the stick to pivot at this point because as the front of the stick goes up, it presses against the front of the hand. The only way to create a true pivot point in the middle of the hand is to completely remove the index finger and either adjust the middle finger’s or the thumb’s position, which would then present scenario three above.

(We could completely, and literally, remove/chop off the front of our hand, including the thumb, but then that would just make the middle of the hand the new front of the hand, wouldn’t it?)

Some teachers talk about the control of the fulcrum moving to the middle of the hand, which is different from the idea of using the middle finger as part of the stick’s fulcrum system. The looser your thumb/index finger system is, the more reliant you become on your middle, ring, and pinky to control the momentum and movement of the stick. I think of the middle finger as the fulcrum’s first officer. It’s in the strongest position to take over “security” when the index finger loosens up and the burden of leverage falls even heavier on the other fingers. And here’s where we make use of that word, “leverage”:

Momentum of the stick is created by the upstroke of the wrist and controlled by the tension of the fulcrum and the openness of the index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers away from the palm. During the downstroke, momentum is created by the wrist and sometimes the fingers, depending on what is being played and how fast. Allowing these fingers to open (and, subsequently, close) gives the lever – the stick – leverage. Not opening them means there is no leverage of the stick. Thus, we can call the finger collective the “leverage system” of the stick (remember, the wrist is a pivot point of the hand, not the actual stick itself as the stick is the load of the hand and therefore doesn’t provide the actual stick any leverage).

The looser the index finger is, the less it needs to open because if it’s loose then it’s already partially open. This means the burden of opening to provide leverage to the stick moves to the remaining fingers of the leverage system: the middle, ring, and pinky fingers. Since the middle finger is next to the index, it becomes next in line to provide security to the grip of the stick, still with the aid of the ring and pinky fingers.

In its most simple concept, the fulcrum of the stick is the pivot point. Because the fulcrum system consists of a muscular device we know as the index finger, some of the effort of movement can come from that finger in addition to its role as the thumb’s counterpart as the pivot point. As the index finger loosens, we can move the effort towards the back fingers while keeping the fulcrum at the front. As such, it is important, I think, to stop confusing the change in leverage control with any change in the fulcrum itself. Keep it simple: the fulcrum of the stick is the pivot point at the thumb and index finger, and the fingers are the leverage system of the stick.

With simple science and knowledge of how the words “fulcrum”, “lever”, and “leverage” are literally defined, we can examine more precisely how the fulcrum of the stick is formed, how it functions, and how the rest of the hand functions along with it. Hopefully this precision in examination also helps educators to convey precise information to their students.
 
 
 
 
I haven’t even gotten to traditional grip, yet.

I’ve been teaching quite a few younger students lately. Anyone with experience teaching younger drum students has run into the problem of mashing the sticks into the pad or drum. It’s a natural problem for young students; it’s natural for someone to pick up drum sticks for the first time and then bang and mash the sticks into the surface because, for all they know, drumming is just about hitting stuff.

Even older, more experienced drummers also suffer from this problem, mostly drum set players. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a drum set player “deadstick” his or her stick against the snare while playing backbeats. I’m not sure why. Is it because they’re trying to hit really hard? Is it plain lack of stick control? Or perhaps they just never learned and don’t really care all that much about how physically detrimental deadsticking is (can’t they feel the shock being absorbed by their hands and arms?) and how bad it sounds.

Of course, with technology, you can get a good sound out of bad playing, but that’s another post.

One method I use to solve the problem of mashing the sticks into the head is to use a basketball analogy. When a person dribbles a basketball, he or she pushes the ball towards the ground with a downward gesture of the hand. As the ball leaves the hand and hits the ground, it comes back up and meets the hand again. The hand allows the ball to bounce to a certain height before repeating the dribbling process.

No one ever dribbled a basketball successfully by mashing the ball into the ground, right?

It’s the same with a drumstick. As the stick hits the head, the stick will want to bounce back up. Keeping the basketball analogy in mind, I encourage my mashing students to get the stick off of the head right after impact. And it works.

The only problem with this method is that, in marching percussion, we freeze sticks in playing position. For my lines, this means that the bead rests one inch above the surface. This height will differ depending on the instructor. I, personally, also teach the concept of playing position to my drum set students because it promotes downstroke-oriented playing, it’s comfortable, and it readies them for marching percussion should they choose to go that path.

So, when students attempt to follow the basketball analogy, they often pull their sticks up higher than playing position. This is fine for playing consecutive notes like a string of 8th notes on a single hand or hand-to-hand 16th notes where the hands play continuously, but not for releases or tap-to-accent patterns where stopping the stick in playing position is the desired result.

Despite this problem, I consider this to be an acceptable way to begin teaching mashing students how not to mash. Once the student gets rid of the habit of mashing their sticks into the head, I can then concentrate on getting them to freeze their sticks in playing position. The more important thing with mashing students is to achieve a single sound from their attacks instead of the buzz that results from mashing.

–

Has it really been that long since I posted last? Shame.

As Obi Wan Kenobi told Luke in Return of the Jedi, “You’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

An educated drummer will probably know what is meant when a drum teacher says, “Let the bounce do the work,” or, “Let the rebound do the work.” I know I do. However, as much as I hate to say “never”, I’m pretty sure that I will never say either one of these phrases.

(Time will tell if that declaration will come back to haunt me)

I really don’t like the notion that the bounce does the work, because it implies that the sticks will deliver the rhythms we want to play simply by letting it bounce on the drum head. Now, I know, and the educated drummer will know, that isn’t the case – that we actually control the bounce so that the rhythms we want to play are properly executed.

So, why don’t we say that?

In sticking with my philosophy of speaking universal truths, and having worked with plenty of young drummers, I know the importance of saying what I mean. We do not let the bounce do the work.

I tell my students that we allow the rebound to assist us. We, the drummer, do the work, but on a bouncy surface we allow the rebound to alleviate some of the work we do and that we are always playing every beat. Explaining the concept of bounce to the young drummer in this manner lets them know that they are in control of their sticks and how they react to the drumming surface. This way, as they learn how to play different things, breaking them down so they learn to place every beat, they learn how to control the bounce. As they get faster, build dexterity, and build muscle, they will increase their control of the rebound provided they also continue to focus on relaxing and staying loose while they play.

Additionally, as they play on different surfaces, they will learn how to adapt to the type of rebound. Many drummers have played on various surfaces, from loosely tuned heads with very little response to Kevlar heads that are very, very bouncy. Each type of surface will respond differently, so being able to precisely articulate rhythms depends on the amount of control we have over our sticks. If we’re not able to play rhythms on an ill-responsive head with the same kind of accuracy as a bouncy head, then what is the point of relying on bounce, letting it “do the work”? Not to mention the fact that drummers will play on all sorts of percussion instruments: there are snares and toms and their respective heads, as well as cymbals and percussion toys, each having their own surface qualities and response types. We need to be able to articulate accurately on all of those surfaces.

I demonstrate this concept by playing clear double-stroke rolls on curtains or my lap, both of which have little to no rebound (my lap, having muscles, have a little bit of response, you know). I then qualify this statement by letting my students know that they will probably never have to perform on a curtain or their laps, but that’s the type of control they need to have over their sticks. That way, when they play on drum, they can adapt, loosen up, and let the rebound assist them so they don’t have to do as much work.

Many young drummers that try to bounce everything out let their sticks flop onto the head as they play diddles, flams, etc. This always results in badly played rhythms because what they’re doing is trying to play the sticking patterns, the rudiments, instead of playing the actual rhythms.

It is very important to have a relaxed grip on the stick. This way, when playing on a bouncy surface, we can guide the stick at any speed, utilizing whatever the amount of response the surface gives us. Conversely, if we are relaxed, we can learn to manipulate the stick on a less bouncy surface by using more muscle but still with a relaxed grip. We can let our hands adapt to the rebound, or lack thereof, by using more or less muscle as necessary while being relaxed at any speed.

This is the manner in which I teach my drummers stick control. We do not rely on the bounce. We do not let the rebound do the work for us. We are always in control, doing the work but allowing the rebound to assist us. If our sticks and the rebound could talk, they would be calling us “Master”.

And that, young Jedi, is my point of view.

I’ve been away for a bit. I’m sorry. I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t do me a favor. Not a huge favor, just a small one, okay?

Play four counts of 16th notes with an accent on each downbeat, starting on the right hand.

Done? Cool. Now, play the exact same thing but use a paradiddle sticking. Start on the same hand.

Finished? Thanks. I owe ya. Now answer this: did the two patterns feel different? I bet they did. And that’s important, because the way you feel while you’re playing a pattern affects the way you keep time. I call this the “handfeel”.

One of my drumlines is currently having difficulty playing paradiddle, tap-diddle, and diddle-tap exercises at a steady tempo. The thing about those diddle-based rudiments is, unlike rolls, they’re used to play a linear succession of beats in a non-linear, sometimes asymmetrical manner, as opposed to the constant symmetrical and linear alternation of hands.

I know, I know… what on earth does that mean? It means space. The alternative sticking of diddle-based patterns provides each hand space between notes. This space gives us the opportunity to keep time by playing a basic rhythm using different stickings other than your typical hand-to-hand strokes.

Take, for instance, the four counts of 16ths played in a single-stroke manner:

Playing that hand-to-hand is very direct, very driving. In contrast…

Paradiddles – for example – offer each hand some space, which means that although the pattern itself is driving, the handfeel is more laid back After all, the right hand is playing:

Notice that I left all the rests in 16th value so you could see all the space your right hand has while playing paradiddles… and, oh, how much space there is! The left hand plays the same pattern during those spaces, but of course its cycle begins at a different point.

Tap-diddles and diddle-taps contribute to this spacious handfeel with their asymmetrical patterns on each hand. The notes are delivered in a linear succession without breaks, but one hand plays the tap, the other plays the diddle, and each hand gets its own unique set of space. Neither hand is playing the same thing, so you have to figure out how that asymmetrical, spacious handfeel feels inside the tempo.

In the case of diddle-based patterns, it’s this space that can help you figure out how to approach the pattern so that you can play it at a steady tempo. Take advantage of the resulting handfeel and “lay back” by not approaching the passage with a sense of driving through the passage really hard, but instead with a sense of open space as opposed to closed space. This doesn’t mean you should play lazily and drag, of course, nor should the rhythmic interpretation alter.

The concept of handfeel offers a way to help you be aware of how these patterns feel physically within a selected tempo. This is used in conjunction with understanding how the denomination of notes fit within a time signature and tempo; understanding how all the beats are placed in time. It’s a burden to mentally keep track of all the beats you’re playing, making sure that you’re placing each and every beat in perfect metronomic fashion, or counting along in your head (as many younger players are prone to do). At some point, feel is going to have to take over; you’re going to have to know what fundamental rhythms and sticking patterns feel like.

Not to mention that these stickings offer us a choice. Since different stickings have different handfeels, we can choose how we want to keep time during certain passages, and that lends itself to musical interpretation.

And it gets more complex when you combine different patterns, say, a paradiddle into two tap-diddles into a paradiddle-diddle into an inverted paradiddle. At some point, you have to have enough diddle control to keep them evenly spaced so that no matter what kind of space surrounds them you don’t end up closing the space of the diddles themselves. Through the entire passage, however, you’ll need to remember that all of that space requires you to lay back and keep everything open, rather than drive right through and close everything up.
…

Oh… what about double-stroke rolls, you say? Rolls fall into the hand-to-hand category because, although you’re playing doubles on each hand, each hand does move up and down to a specific fundamental base rhythm, whether it’s 16ths, 8ths, triplets (12ths), etc., which means that the hand alternation is constantly symmetrical and linear.

Rolls are really another story… and another post.