Darren Sacks

The biggest issue I hear with students that play the Tchaik 4 excerpt is that they misinterpret the legato up-bows. They end up playing them as staccato, almost like Mozart and that gets noticed by audition committees.

In general Tchaikovsky is generally played very “in-the-string”.

What if I told you that when a double bass student constantly works on the same piece or excerpt that is stuck in their head over and over to the point of obsession that this is hurting their development, not helping it.

And I was 100% guilty of this so I’m literally talking from experience. My obsession was Heldenleben 9. And if any of my past classmates and colleagues are watching this, I’m sure they are probably laughing at this video right now. Because Heldenleben was my jam, warm-up, my daily practice, the first thing I did when I took the bass out for excerpts class or orchestra rehearsal and i think it got to the point of being like my deeply ingrained identity literally to the point of even annoying the people around me.

I’m making this video to not only help students play better but to also help young people learn how to project mature, professional energy so that the people around you whether they are classmates, peers, private teachers, sectional coaches, and conductors take you seriously and are more willing to share what can sometimes feel like gatekept advice with you.

One thing that might surprise you is that the more breathe of repertoire and technical studies you engage with, ironically the more depth you achieve. Working on Bach suites, or learning entire orchestra parts rather than just excerpts, or varying the excerpts or musical periods, or integrating technical studies - this approach will eventually help your Heldenleben more than just working on Heldenleben at nauseum. Learn exercises from Hal Robinson’s Strokin’ book, explore Rabbath technique, or buy Joel Quarrington’s Canadian School of Double Bass, learning the entire Heldenleben bass part or learning all 4 movements of Beethoven 5 instead of just the scherzo & trio.

If your 14–16-year-old has played double bass for several years, practices independently, and sounds good—but you still can’t tell whether they’re on track for All-State, Interlochen, a top youth orchestra, or a conservatory—this may sound familiar.

Let’s call this parent Jennifer.

Jennifer is 44. Her son Ethan is 14 and entering ninth grade. He has three years of bass, some solo and orchestral repertoire, school orchestra experience, and a good relationship with his teacher.

Until recently, that felt like enough. Ethan enjoyed playing and practiced without reminders.

Then Jennifer started hearing about students making All-State, attending Interlochen or BUTI, joining BYSO or NEC Prep, and eventually auditioning for top conservatories.

She began to wonder: “Should we have been planning for this already?”

Jennifer is highly educated and already invests in lessons, youth orchestra, sports, tutoring, and test prep. The lesson cost isn’t the issue.

Her concern is spending years and significant money only to discover later that Ethan wasn’t prepared for serious auditions.

She is not a bassist, so she can’t tell whether his rhythm, intonation, or technique is truly competitive. General feedback like “practice more” or “improve intonation” doesn’t answer her real question:

Is he close—or is there a much bigger gap than we realize?

She wants clarity: where he is now, what top students can do, what’s holding him back, and what will change over the next few months.

As a double bass teacher, there’s something I want every double bass student—and every parent of one—to hear:

The moment your life improves is the moment you start asking for help from others.

It might not even be, “I’m on the verge of collapse.” It might be: I’ve had this nagging problem for a long time. Why am I still not able to solve this?

When I was in high school, I was afraid to ask for help with academics because I thought I would bother my teachers and become a burden. I thought it was your responsibility to figure everything out on your own, and if you couldn’t, you’re dumb or not smart enough.

Feeling like it is you against the world is a very dark place to be.

Back in 2022, I was at a colleague’s house party in Jamaica Plain, surrounded by all these great musicians from NEC, Berklee, and BU. They were killing it. One of them had just won a second violin position in BSO.

I remember whining that I wanted to be successful, but I was stuck working at a Verizon store.

One of my colleagues who plays cello said, “That’s your fault though. It’s your choice to live in a Back Bay studio instead of splitting rent with roommates. It’s your fault you don’t spend time on activities that build your music career.”

That was a big kick in the butt.

I went back to taking private lessons with local freelance double bass players. At the first lesson, the principal bassist of one of the Boston-area orchestras said, “Why are you not taking auditions at this point? You should take the audition for our orchestra.”

Within two or three weeks, I had gotten a call to play for them.

Eventually I quit Verizon because I was getting enough performing and teaching opportunities because I vocalized my issues to my colleagues and instructors.

There was an entire world ready to help me.

And I realize now, when students and their families reach out to me, usually they have a nagging issue, they’re tired of not making progress, and they don’t want to guess at what the standard is.

A student can spend hundreds of hours practicing double bass and still be guessing at audition expectations.

Imagine placing a child in front of Chess.com without teaching them any of the rules of chess. The board and the piece appear, the child begins randomly clicking everywhere. Finally the pawn moves. The bishop is still trapped. Suddenly they see their queen disappear. Checkmate. New game.

The student could do this for five hours every day and technically they are in their room practicing. After hundreds of hours, they might begin discovering a few patterns. Maybe they finally realize that the bishop moves diagonally. Maybe they notice that protecting the king is important.

But nobody would describe that as an efficient path to becoming a strong chess player. Those who have been explained the rules and core strategies are already ahead.

This is the analogy for double bass auditions. You have students that are practicing a passage hundreds of times while not even realizing that they are repeating an incorrect rhythm. No one has pointed it out to them, that often can include their current instructors.

You have others that obsess over a detail the audition committee barely notices while overlooking the issue that determines whether they advance.

They may have the grit and determination to succeed. But they are also being forced to guess at the rules of the game.
Practice becomes powerful when the student understands the game they are practicing for.

I recently received criticism that my content about double bass auditions creates panic in the community. I understand where that concern comes from.

Music education has a long tradition of promoting patience and keeping students from becoming overly consumed by outcomes. But for the students and families I typically work with, avoiding transparency can feel dismissive of their aspirations.

An audition still has a deadline, a defined standard, and a limited number of seats. Students deserve clarity about the attention to detail required.

When I help a student prepare, I look at four things: What is the goal they really want? Are they preparing for All-State, a youth orchestra, a conservatory prescreen, a summer festival, or opportunities within their high school? What will they actually be evaluated on?

What is currently limiting their results? It could be technique, stylistic knowledge, an inefficient practice approach, or difficulty reproducing at an audition what they can do at home. And what should be prioritized? What needs immediate attention, what requires several months, and what can safely receive less focus?

To me, this is the opposite of creating panic. Panic comes from making a student feel that everything is wrong and everything matters equally. Strategy helps them understand: this is my main issue, this comes next, and this other area is already reliable.

Some students experience music primarily as a space for creativity, exploration, and gradual development. For others, lessons represent financial sacrifice, educational opportunity, professional ambition, family expectations, or all of those things at once. They may be navigating competitive systems where effort is expected to produce something tangible.

Neither perspective is inherently healthier or more enlightened. A results-only mentality can make students feel that achievement determines their self-worth. But a process-only mentality can be inconsiderate toward a student with a concrete goal, limited time, and real consequences attached to the outcome.