It’s a stretch!

(And other observations).

Initial impression: it’s so light! And made of wood! And comprised of four parts (headjoint, first three holes, the second set of three holes, and pinky key) instead of three, which I later learned offers the player much more flexibility with positioning and therefore comfort. And comfort, from the perspective of a player accustomed to the ergonomically designed modern flute, seemed the least of concerns.

Upon assembling the baroque traverso for the first time, I was immediately surprised at the seemingly tremendous distance in between keys. There was so much distance that I couldn’t fathom how one could navigate tricky fingering passages… until I reminded myself that the musicians of the baroque era knew nothing else. The traverso seems like a cross-breed between a recorder and a modern flute. Because the instrument is completely open-holed with no key covers, it seemed like all of my nightmares from removing my right-hand ring finger flute from my modern flute, magnified by ten times. The finger accuracy necessary to sound the right pitches — and even more so to have acceptable pitch on pitches — is astounding. I found myself thinking how convenient and foolproof the metal flute seems compared to the baroque flute. The sound is more responsive overall, and precise. There is less room for pitch ambiguity when there are more keys to ensure the proper sounding of a pitch. For reference, compared to the baroque traverso’s total holes of six, the modern flute has eighteen holes and fifteen keys that one can physically press down. This doesn’t include extra gizmos such as a C# trill key, etc. And this isn’t mentioning the conveniently engineered mechanisms that coordinate certain keys to others; for example, when the first key is pressed, it links to the small key to its left, which stabilizes the B natural. As there are fewer mechanisms on the baroque traverso, it’s up the performer to have precise technique and a flexible embouchure.