If you’ve ever taken a professional orchestra audition, and perhaps even a seating audition at school or at a summer festival, have you ever wondered what the musicians on the other side of the room or the screen are listening for?Is it our sound? Intonation? Rhythm? Phrasing? Consistency? Expressiveness?Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get into the heads of audition committees and find out what they’re thinking when they hear us play? Well, we may not be able to read their minds, but a 2022 study gets us close.Source
My daughter was reading an SAT test prep book recently, and pointed out to me that among many other tips on grammar and math, one of the study hacks was to stay physically active. The idea was that it can be easy to spend all of your time studying at your desk - but then you'd miss out on the potential learning and memory (and mental health) benefits of exercise.Source
When my kids took music lessons, they often put off practicing until a day or two before their lesson, at which point they’d try to cram a week’s worth of practice into a single marathon practice session.Source
Whether you’re a pianist, string player, or wind player, you know how it can be really difficult to get the two sides of your body to cooperate sometimes?For me, this often manifested as “smudging” or “blurring” of notes in fast passage with string crossings. Where because my left hand and right hand weren’t quite in sync, things didn’t sound as clean and crisp as they should.Source
Whether it’s auditioning for orchestra jobs, securing a residency for your string quartet, or building up your teaching studio, have you ever had one of those moments where you begin to question whether things are ever going to work out?Source
Parents, teachers, coaches in every sports movie you’ve ever watched, and strangers on the internet often emphasize how important it is that we believe in ourselves. For instance, here’s a popular quote that I’m sure you’ve stumbled across on the internet: “Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right.” -Henry […]Source
When you think of classical music, what instruments come to mind? An orchestral instrument of some kind, like strings, woodwinds, brass, or percussion? Maybe piano? Voice? Or guitar?Would accordion make your list?Source
You know that famous quote attributed to Debussy? The one that goes something like "Music is the space between the notes."?I don't know about you, but I was certainly guilty of compress things and rushing through these spaces on many an occasion...And of course, there's an awful lot of music within each note as well. Which I also tended to rush through and pay too little attention to. (And where was I in such a rush to get to? No idea. Maybe the end of the piece so I could get off stage? 🤣)This might seem like a really abstract concept at first. So it's the sort of thing that can be easy to push to the back burner, because there are always so many notes to learn on your music stand. But paying more attention to the life within each note can make practicing and performing a much more engaging and gratifying experience. And improve your sense of rhythm and phrasing as well.In other words, it's worth keeping on the front burner, even if just at a simmer.Umm...ok, but what does this mean or look like exactly? In today's episode, violist Steven Tenenbom (Orion Quartet, Curtis, Juilliard, Mannes, Bard) explains, and illustrates what this means using concrete musical examples.Source
Years ago, I read a book where the author described a study that made a compelling case for writing down your goals.The study was said to have taken place in 1979, where members of Harvard’s graduating MBA class were asked whether they had a) set any specific goals, b) written those goals down, and c) come up with plans to accomplish them.Source
In this month’s conversation, I’m joined by Jason Shafer, who is principal clarinetist of the Colorado Symphony and on the faculty of the University of Northern Colorado and the International Festival-Institute at Round Top. Jason is also nearing completion of a master’s degree in performance psychology, and so we explore the many ways in which his performance psychology studies have influenced his approach to practicing, performing, and teaching.Source
The research suggests that this is indeed good advice, and we’ve looked at studies before which illustrate some of the benefits (like here).Whether you’re feeling your anxiety spiral backstage before a performance, or you’re dealing with crazy holiday traffic and airport delays, or stressing about whether the turkey is going to be fully cooked and ready before the guests arrive while balancing multiple dishes with different temperature requirements and limited oven space, you know how people like to remind you to breathe when you’re stressed out?But there are so many different ways to breathe!Source
Whether it’s the gentle fluttering of butterflies in your tummy that you wake up with on the morning of a performance, or the frantic churning of butterflies that you feel backstage while waiting to play, figuring out how to manage pre-performance nerves can be a real challenge.Source
I once heard somewhere, years ago, that if you want your kid to eat a new vegetable or unusual food, you have to put it in front of them an average of 16 times before they’ll touch it.Source
Whether you’re trying to play the clarinet, hit a backhand slice, pull off an omaplata sweep, or flip a pan-sized pancake without a spatula, you’ve undoubtedly heard the phrase “practice makes perfect.” Source
Whether you’re scrolling through Facebook, Instagram, or Youtube, you’ve probably seen musicians of all ages and levels posting videos of themselves practicing, offering tips and advice on how to overcome common challenges, and sharing clips of performances or stories and behind-the-scenes looks at what it means to be a music student or professional musician. Source
Whether you’re scrolling through Facebook, Instagram, or Youtube, you’ve probably seen musicians of all ages and levels posting videos of themselves practicing, offering tips and advice on how to overcome common challenges, and sharing clips of performances or stories and behind-the-scenes looks at what it means to be a music student or professional musician. Source
I don’t know if solfège-ing a movement of unaccompanied Bach in ear training class is some sort of universal aural skills rite of passage, or if this was a cruel and unusual exercise unique to the teacher I had, but 20-something years later, I still remember how uncomfortable I felt in that moment when I had stand in front of my class and solfège the Largo from the third sonata. Source
In theory, piñatas are terrific fun.
I mean, what’s not to like? A hanging cornucopia of sweets, opened in spectacular fashion by smashing with a stick while blindfolded? Good times!
Of course, the reality of piñatas is never quite as exciting as one might hope.
First off, there are tons of complete misses, glancing blows, and weak hits. Then the older siblings get into the act, but to no avail. Source
Tournaments and competition are a natural part of sports, and can be a lot of fun to watch, whether it’s your kid’s high school volleyball tournament or the NCAA basketball playoffs. Similarly, music competitions ranging from American Idol to the Van Cliburn competition to smaller local or regional competitions, can be pretty engaging experiences for an audience too.Source
There are many stories of athletes who visualized themselves practicing before going to bed, whether it be a baseball player engaging in a little batting practice or a diver rehearsing their dives.But you’ll often hear discrepancies among their accounts of how and what they visualized. Some describe going over the same skill repeatedly to work out some kinks, while others describe imagining a perfect performance, or playing out a realistic match complete with the inevitable ups and downs.I think there is a time and place for each kind of visualization, and the research suggests that visualization is indeed a valuable complement to physical practice, but what is the “best” way to do mental practice when our priority is learning new repertoire and skills as efficiently as possible?Source
One day in 5th grade, instead of going to gym class, my classmates and I were led to the cafeteria, and greeted by a whole collection of shiny band instruments lined up on a table.The band teacher then pitched us on each instrument, hoping to pique our interest in at least one of them. I’ve forgotten most of the details - but I do remember that we all thought it was hilarious when he deliberately made the most horrible sound come out of one of the instruments, and joked that if we chose that instrument, we too could make that sound and annoy our parents anytime we wanted.Source
E.E. Cummings once said “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”For many years, I didn’t understand what that meant. But it’s starting to make more sense. After all, it’s easy to follow a well-worn path, to do the safe thing, or to take others’ advice when it comes to figuring out what we should do with our lives.But artists seem to find their own way. Artists learn to listen to that inner voice, and have the courage to follow – even if they have no idea where it will take them.And whether we fall in love with their art or not, we respect the artist within them. Because we see their courage, and that resonates with the artist within us – which wants only to do the same. To follow our own path.Pianist Menahem Pressler has had a remarkable career spanning more than seven decades. As founding member of the Beaux Arts Trio, he has recorded pretty much the entire piano chamber music repertoire over the trio's 50+ years.And in his 60+ years of teaching at Indiana University, he has guided students to prestigious teaching positions around the world and prizes in all of the major international piano competitions.In this inspiring 30-min chat, you’ll hear the wisdom and insight he has gained from a lifetime of performing and teaching – and what it takes (and means) to truly be an artist.In addition, we'll explore:-How he prepares for performances, and identifies the potential problem areas in advance.-The importance of finding your own voice-How he has, for himself anyway, figured out how to connect to an audience-What he is thinking about during a performance on his best days…and on bad days-On dealing with critics and bad reviews -He acknowledges that awards are nice, but identifies something more profound that he finds more deeply rewarding -I ask him if there’s anything he wishes he would have known when he was starting out in his career; he responds with what I think is the best possible answerSource
When it comes to buying a bathmat, convection oven, or sugar free gummy bears, online reviews can be a real life saver (tip: do not get these gummy bears, aka “Satan bears”).But when it comes to buying violin/viola/cello/bass strings, it’s not quite so straightforward.The right set of strings can make a big difference in how your instrument sounds and plays – but the process of experimenting with various strings to find the right match can be discouraging and costly.Source
You probably spend a lot of time thinking about how to practice and learn more effectively.You probably also spend a lot of time thinking about how to perform more optimally, and what you have to do in that moment to play your best.But as performance science researcher Aaron Williamon noted in his podcast episode a few months ago, there’s a third element that’s helpful to include in the practice-performance equation.And that’s what we ought to do after a performance - i.e. the post-performance review.Source
My parents would sometimes take me on drives in the countryside, with the intention of getting lost and finding their way back home. It always worked out fine with my dad at the wheel, but it seems that I did not inherit his good sense of direction, and given a choice, will tend to take the exit or fork in the road that takes me further away from home.Source
The Suzuki method has occasionally been criticized as a system of learning that fails to nurture creativity. Yet, when I was a Suzuki kid, I actually remember being asked to engage in a fair amount of creative activity - like free improvisation.I don't know if this was part of Dr. Suzuki's original philosophy, or if I just had liberal Suzuki teachers, or a forward-thinking mom, but almost on a daily basis, I'd have to pick up the violin and create something from scratch. It was as much a part of my practice routine as scales.Source
Whether it’s sight-reading under pressure, nailing that big shift in an audition, or making an impossible shot to get all your classmates an A on an organic chemistry quiz, we all know from experience that performing up to our full abilities is infinitely more challenging when we feel like there’s something at stake.But we’ve also learned from recent research (like here and here), that we don’t have to accept this. That being clutch under pressure is a skill we can get better at - by practicing under pressure.Of course, that’s easier said than done, because it’s not like we have a “pressure” button we can push to instantly make our hands go cold and turn our brain into mush.So what are we to do? What are the most effective ways of manufacturing pressure training situations in advance of a big performance or audition?Source
I don’t know if this is normal or not, but I’ve always really enjoyed reading consumer reviews.Whether I’m searching for the right bathmat, garbage bags, or sugar free gummy bears (and if this is the first you’re hearing of this internet phenomenon, read that review 🤣), I like having some data before taking action.Source
You’ve undoubtedly heard the saying that “practice makes perfect.” And you’ve probably heard the saying “practice doesn’t make perfect; perfect practice makes perfect” as well.Both statements sort of imply that effective practice means avoiding mistakes. But what if that’s actually not true? What if making mistakes - on purpose - has the potential to accelerate the learning process and lead to much better performance than avoiding mistakes?I know that sounds backwards, but let’s take a look at a teaching strategy that may tempt you to encourage students to do things the “wrong way” more often!Source
It’s the day before an audition, and as you take a few minutes to review some tricky sections, suddenly you get a twinge of anxiety and start stressing and freaking out about how awful everything sounds. How unprepared you feel. And how horribly you’re afraid things are going to go. It’s at those exact moments when you know the right thing to do is “think positive.”But these are also the exact moments when it’s hardest to think good thoughts. Like telling a kid to cheer up after they just lost all of their video game privileges for the day, as their little sister munches happily on the last ice cream sandwich in the freezer, giggling while watching her favorite YouTube show (hmm…that's awfully specific...doesn’t that kind of make you wonder what’s happening in the Kageyama household right now?). Most of us have a natural tendency to dwell on negative thoughts. To worry about the future, bemoan past decisions and choices, and focus on what’s bothering us right now in the present. Which from a survival perspective, probably makes good sense. But from a performance perspective, this negativity bias can make it difficult to stay in a good frame of mind before auditions. Or get to sleep the night before a big recital. Which can then make the performance go to crap.So how can we get better at “thinking positive” - at least temporarily - when we need it most? Source
You know those moments when you run into a particularly vexing problem in the practice room and get stuck?Where no matter how many repetitions you put in, or hard you try, you just can't get a note to speak right, or work a passage up to the goal tempo?Whether it’s uncooperative fingers or an embouchure mystery, this can all be pretty frustrating. So as the frustration builds, you might dig your heels in, grit your teeth, and continue to hack away at the problem, hoping that brute force will eventually lead to some sort of breakthrough.Source
Eavesdropping without permission is not cool, of course, but if you were to sit on the practice floor of most music schools and just listen, what’s the one thing you probably would NOT hear very much of?Silence. 🤫Source
Once upon a time, when my son was but a wee 5th grader, my wife and I sat down with him to review his homework assignment – an essay about the early explorers who discovered America. The idea was to give him feedback on how to make his next draft even better.Source
“Argh...I really ought to do the laundry. But do I have to? Maybe I could just wear dress socks tomorrow and put it off one more day…”“Hmm…I should probably email IT about my ID card not working in the copy room…”“Are we out of kitty litter?”Source
Naps were a way of life for me in college. Whether it was a 3-hour “nap” between an early morning class and lunch, or nodding off unintentionally while studying in the library, sleep was naturally interspersed into my daily schedule.Source
Growing up in the pre-YouTube VHS vs Betamax days, I remember watching videos of Oistrakh or Heifetz performing the concerto that I was working on, to see what bowings or fingerings my favorite musicians were using. Or I’d listen to recordings to see what sort of musical and expressive decisions other musicians had made.Source
I don't know if this is a universal phenomenon or not, but I remember my kids both going through a phase where they tried to avoid explaining things by saying "it's complicated."To their credit, some of the things we experience in life really are difficult to articulate in words - despite being clear to us in a non-verbal sort of way.Source
Ever notice how your brain can sometimes be your greatest asset, but at other times, a total liability? Like how it tends to approach performances as if they are life-or-death tests of our worthiness as human beings, even though this is pretty much a guaranteed recipe for misery before, during, and after?That's obviously way more pressure than anyone needs, so searching for a more reassuring, performance-enhancing way to view performances (i.e. “reframing”) is something that many musicians have experimented with at some point.Reframes like:“Remember that the audience is rooting for you to do well; they’re on your side.”Or “Think of your performance as a gift that you are sharing with the audience.”The latter in particular is a way of framing performances that I’ve heard a number of times. But does it really work?Source
Whether you sing or play an instrument, I’m guessing that on your music stand right now, there is at least one piece with a scary shift or big leap in it that stresses you out when you see it coming.Where once you start thinking about it, your muscles start to tighten up, and you find yourself micromanaging or overcontrolling the details, which often just leads to a miss.I think this a pretty common bugaboo for many musicians, so when I heard violinist Laurie Smukler talk about how important it is to not just practice getting from point A to point B, but to practice shifting in rhythm, my ears perked up, and I was intrigued.Source
It’s been decades since that day I stood in front of a panel of faculty at Curtis for my college audition, but I still remember it as one of the most anxiety-provoking moments of my life.I had never met any of the musicians who sat and looked at me from behind the table. I knew them only by name and reputation - and even then, wasn’t sure who was who (needless to say, this was before Google and Facebook had been invented).I’m sure they were all perfectly congenial and friendly people, and heck, it’s very possible that one or two may even have smiled at me, but in the heat of the moment, all I saw was an intimidating row of stern, somber, serious-looking faces.Needless to say, my nerves shot through the roof.Whether it’s a college audition, juries, competition, or the unscreened round of an orchestral audition, what are we to do when we come face to face with the people who can meaningfully shape the future course of our lives with just a few marks of their pens?Is there anything we can do in that moment to buoy our confidence and keep our nerves from getting the better of us?Source
With the new year now upon us, you’ve probably begun to see a lot of articles about resolutions, goals, and habits pop into your inbox and news feed.We could spend months exploring the various aspects of this research, but I thought we could keep it simple today. And focus on just one question about setting goals.Namely, what type of goals are best if you want to maximize motivation and the likelihood of sticking with your plans?Source
We all know that exercise is good for us. But developing and maintaining an exercise habit is much easier said than done.How hard is it? Well, I remember my exercise behavior prof once remarking that statistically, we have a better chance of quitting heroin cold turkey than we do of maintaining an exercise program beyond 6 months. Yipes. Why are the numbers so discouraging?Well, working out - especially at first - isn’t inherently fun. I mean, it certainly can be, but cycling until your legs burn, or lifting heavy things to failure is not most folks’ idea of a good time. Is a good workout satisfying? Totally. But are you having fun in the 5th interval of a Tabata workout? Probably not.And that’s pretty much what practicing the violin felt like for me. I did it every day because I wanted to get better, and because playing well was important to me, but was it something I’d do for fun and enjoyment? Ha. Please.Looking back, this was partly because I didn’t really know how to practice and so often had no idea how I was supposed to fill the time. But also, the kind of work that is necessary for improvement is not necessarily enjoyable. Picking apart our weakest areas. Super slow practice. Working on scales, etudes, and technical exercises. Satisfying? Yes. But fun? Not by most folks’ definition.As such, I would often spend most of a day putting practice off, making excuses, allowing myself to get distracted, and guilt-tripping myself, until it was easier to just get it over with than to keep delaying the inevitable.But what if I could have made practicing more enjoyable - without diluting its intensity or effectiveness in any way? Might I have been more likely to practice without wasting so much of the weekend dragging my feet?A recent study of exercise behavior and behavioral economics suggests that there is a simple adjustment that could potentially boost our enjoyment of practicing, and thereby increase our likelihood of getting in a good practice session. Source
“One thing at a time!!!” is a common saying around our house as my daughter tries to alternate between watching her brother’s Pokémon show on TV and reading a book. Or as my son tries to play NBA Live on his phone while sneaking an occasional peek as his sister learns how to eat corn-on-the-cob with a power drill on YouTube.We know that letting our attention shift, willy-nilly, from one thing to another - i.e. “task-switching” - is not such a good thing. And that it can have quite a few negative consequences, like increased distractibility, mistakes, and anxiety - despite how common a phenomenon it is in our distraction-filled world today.But on the flip side, is the intense, laser-like focus where we put our blinders on, and beat our heads against the wall, trying to brute force our way to a solution, even though deep down, we know we’re totally stuck and probably ought to move on.So what is the most effective and efficient way to maximize our creative problem-solving abilities?The answer is a little surprising. Because it’s not something most people would think to do - and at first glance, sounds like it’d actually be kind of annoying.Source
You know those days when you walk into an audition, or a performance exam, or a music theory final, and for whatever reason, you just know that it’s going to be a good day?These moments can feel pretty terrific indeed - I mean, everything is funner and so much easier when we don’t have that knot in the pit of our stomach.Source
When I was going through the music world as a kid in the 80’s and 90’s, nobody really talked about performance anxiety.I mean, I’m pretty sure it was something we all felt, but it was so rare to hear anyone acknowledge it any way, that I still remember the one time another student brought it up before a concert.Source
I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been on a roller coaster in my lifetime, but these rides always seemed like one of those things in life that most folks have a pretty definitive feeling about.
As in, you either enjoy roller coasters or you don’t. Source
Trying to beat performance anxiety can sometimes feel like playing a game of whack-a-mole.
Like, you think you’ve finally figured out a solution that’s going to be the one – and it does help in one or two performances. But then it doesn’t work so well in the next performance, and it feels like you’re back to the drawing board.
“Don’t worry, be happy!”
“Stay positive!”
“Don’t be nervous/sad/upset/frustrated/etc.!”
Throughout our lives, we are told in many ways - both explicitly, and often, more subtly - that we ought to maintain a positive, upbeat attitude. That winners engage in positive thinking, and our success is dependent on our ability to avoiding being so negative.
And while there is certainly much to be said for positivity, sometimes it can be awfully exhausting to keep it up.
Because on occasion, we do experience things in life that are disappointing, discouraging, or frustrating. Sometimes we just feel kind of blah for no apparent reason. And when life throws us curveballs, most of us do have moments of pessimism, doubt, and maybe even panic.
How bad is it for us to let negative thoughts or emotions like this into our lives? Is this like the worst mental habit ever? Are we setting ourselves up for failure by not maintaining better mental hygiene?
Today I’ll be chatting with bassoonist Kim Laskowski, who is currently on the faculty of the Manhattan School of Music and The Juilliard school, and has been associate principal bassoon in the NY Philharmonic for nearly 20 years - a position she won at age 48.
When I was just starting out on the violin as a young child, my mom made listening to music a priority.
There was music playing when I woke up. Music playing in the car during the 10-minute drive to and from school. Plus the 45-min drive to and from lessons. There was even music playing in the house, and as I was going to bed at night.
It's easy enough nowadays to stream music anywhere, anytime. But back in the 70’s and early 80’s this took a lot more effort!
I took piano lessons for several years as a child. But I didn’t get very far because I had a rather peculiar approach to learning.
Due to my principled objection to the existence of other clefs, I never actually learned bass clef. Anytime I got a new piece, I just memorized the left hand, and played off the music while looking at the treble clef.
I know…pretty ridiculous in hindsight.
But you know the saying “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”? Well, I was reminded of my bass clef aversion recently when listening to my daughter practice the piano. Unlike me, she can read both clefs. But in an interesting twist, she seems to have an objection to looking at the music at all, preferring to keep poking around for the right notes by ear.
Imagine giving a beginning hunt-and-peck typist this blank keyboard (btw, isn’t that the awesomest thing ever?), and you’ll have a pretty good idea what we experience in our living room every day.
Needless to say, it drives my wife (a pianist) crazy. Whom I’ll often hear shouting “LOOK AT THE MUSIC!!!” from various corners of our apartment.
But then I read a study recently which made me wonder if our little one is actually onto something.
Huh?! What could that possibly be?
You’ve undoubtedly heard musicians, athletes, teachers, coaches, and psychologists alike, extol the virtues of mental imagery. How it can not only enhance your learning, but improve performance, help build self-confidence, regulate your emotional state, and more.
But you’ve probably also heard that for imagery to be effective, you must be able to generate vivid, clear images (or sounds or kinesthetic sensations).
So…what are we to do if we can’t create a clear image, sound, or physical movement? What if the only thing we can conjure up is a fuzzy, vague, fleeting image? What if all we can see and hear are missed shifts and cracked notes?
Should we scrap the idea of imagery altogether? Or just keep at it in the hopes that one day something will finally click?
Whether it’s learning how to play the oboe, hit a backhand slice, or type (with all of your fingers, not just your thumbs), one of the most common ways to set practice goals is in units of time, or a certain number of repetitions.
Performing can be fun when you know you’re prepared, walk on stage feeling confident that things are going to go well, play your heart out, and not only sound great, but experience that feeling of being in “flow.”
And then there are those performance days when you wake up the morning to a nagging feeling deep down (or a screaming voice), that you’re not ready. That you hadn’t given yourself enough time to really get comfortable with a certain piece, or hadn’t practiced diligently or smartly enough in the time you did have.
Playing poorly in front of other people is never fun. And the downward spiral of doubts and doom that can kick in after a disappointing performance is no picnic either. So logically, it makes sense to avoid performing until we’re at least somewhat performance-ready, no?
But what does the evidence suggest? Should we avoid any sort of pressure situation until we’re pretty confident that we’re performance-ready? Or are there any benefits to performing even before we feel totally comfortable?
In 1948, the UCLA men's basketball team finished with a 12-13 record.
Hoping to turn things around, they hired a young coach named John Wooden, who had spent the last two years coaching at Indiana State University.
He made an immediate impact at UCLA, coaching the team to a division title and a 22-7 record - more wins than they had ever had in a season.
I was listening to an entertaining This American Life podcast episode this week, and unexpectedly learned something curious about cats (the episode was not about cats).
Let’s try a little mental challenge.
Read the following letters to yourself, slowly: NCTECOOVD
Now, close your eyes, and see how many you can recall.
Maybe a handful?
Now read through the same letters, just organized differently: OCTNOVDEC
Easier, no?
It’s not like you became a better memorizer in the last few seconds - you simply recognized a familiar pattern in the second grouping of letters that made recall way easier.
Indeed, researchers have long recognized that identifying patterns and structure is a key ingredient in being better at memorization.
A famous chess study, for instance, found that when briefly shown images of chess positions for a few seconds, and then asked to recreate the position of all the pieces on the board, an expert chess player demonstrated much better recall than a novice and amateur player. However, when the pieces were “scrambled,” and placed in positions that would be unlikely (or impossible) in a real game, the expert was no better than the novice and amateur at recreating the placement of chess pieces.
Is it possible that the same could be true for memorizing music as well? That great memorizers don’t necessarily have inherently better memory, but are simply more effective at identifying patterns and structure among the notes on the page?
Whether it’s an audition, recital, or blind date, I think we all know that nerves are normal and to be expected. But that doesn’t stop us from looking for ways to try to get rid of anxious feelings, because the butterflies and jitters aren’t especially fun.
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher Whether it’s copying their moves or wearing the shoes they wear, we often look to elite athletes for insights on how to develop our skills and perform more effectively. For example, you might remember reading a basketball study (Cleary & Zimmerman, […]
Is it normal to get nervous for aural skills class? To wake up on days when you have ear training class and feel that same twisted up feeling in your stomach that you get on the morning of an audition?
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher Whether my Mom was watching an Olympic figure skater, a golfer, or a musician, she would often say to me how interesting it was that they all seemed to pause and take a moment to compose themselves before beginning their routine, […]
I was chatting with a musician recently who was housesitting for a friend, and finding it surprisingly difficult to practice in this new environment. Some of it was the heat (no air conditioning), but more than that, they found it surprisingly difficult to focus amongst all of the clutter.
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher Once upon a time, when my daughter was a toddler, we brought home a container of super cute mini zucchini’s that we found a local farmer’s market. She took a nibble, made a face and spit it out, and from that […]
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher My daughter has been composing a short piece for a summer program she’s in, and up until this point, her only concept of the piece is the MIDI performance that her computer generates. But in a few days, for the first […]
A few years ago, my wife and kids spent the better part of a year living abroad. So with a little extra time on my hands, I decided to take a page out of Indiana Jones's playbook and embark on something of a quest…
…for the best nachos in my neighborhood. 😅
Yep. Every Saturday evening, over the span of a few months, I ordered nachos from a different place.
Chili nachos. Chicken ranchero nachos. Nachos texanos. Nachos el grande deluxe.
And every weekend, I was faced with a dilemma. Should I end my quest and settle for the nachos that I've enjoyed the most so far? Or should I continue to search for better nachos?
As much as I enjoy a tidy, nicely-made bed, actually making the darn thing every morning is one of those activities in life that often feels like a questionable use of time. I mean, it’s going to get unmade anyway the next evening, right?
Socks (or more accurately, their seeming proclivity for ditching their partners) are another time-sucking black hole in our lives.
Whether it was reading non-treble clefs, the circle of fifths, chord inversions, or the day my mom tried to explain time signatures to me with fractional apple slices, music theory is something I always struggled to grasp.
Something about it just never quite clicked. And it always felt like something to be endured, whether as a pre-college student, or eventually, as a music major in college. Because no matter where I went, theory class was always a required part of the curriculum. Which always made me wonder…WHY???? 🤬
Pianist Leon Fleisher once said something along the lines how playing a note is easy - but playing that note musically is much more difficult.
And when you start adding more notes, and more expressive possibilities to the equation, the challenge only increases. Whether it’s elements of phrasing and timing, dynamics, sound and color, articulation, or even one’s physical movements, expressive musical performances require ingredients from many different dimensions indeed!
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher Whether in music, sports, fitness, or in business, there’s often a tendency for us to assume that the best performers in any domain have the most valuable advice to offer. Of course, there’s a common counter-narrative which suggests that sometimes the […]
Have you ever noticed how some people have a tendency to talk out loud to themselves?
For some, it's just a whispered mumbling or silent mouthing of words as they assemble their new IKEA bookshelf. For others, it can be a little more overt, and take the form of louder and more colorful language, as they discover they've purchased the most inexplicably complex minimalist bookshelf that IKEA has designed yet.
It was my 5th grade year, and the elementary school I attended was having its annual let’s-get-the-kids-outside-and-make-them-compete-at-random-not-real-sporting-events extravaganza. There was tug-of-war, water balloon tosses, running laps while balancing an egg on a spoon, potato sack races, etc.
Have you ever found yourself wanting to improve yourself or your skills in some way, but unable to make meaningful progress? Even though you know exactly what you need to do to improve?
Like maybe you want to be a better sight-reader, and know that you ought to read through more music with friends, but keep making excuses or avoid the uncomfortable situations that would involve sight-reading?
Or maybe you’d like to become more comfortable with public speaking, and know that it would help to participate in a local Toastmasters group, but feel really awkward when attending meetings and participating?
Whether it’s studio class, juries, a recital, or a big audition, the unpleasant thing about nerves is that they don’t just kick in when we start playing the first note. Often, they creep in hours, or even days in advance. Which makes the waiting game its own special kind of torture. 😰
Of course, sometimes, things turn 180 degrees once we start playing and we have one of those good days where we’re in the zone and everything feels great. But I think we’re all familiar with the other days too, when we wish we could teleport ourselves to pretty much anywhere else...
Back in college, my wife and I would good-naturedly debate which was the more difficult instrument - violin (my instrument) or piano (her instrument).
I would always throw out the intonation card, while she would fire back with the claim that the sheer number of notes pianists have to play (and memorize) trumped intonation.
When it comes to discussions about memorization, and whether musicians ought to perform from memory or not, it does seem like pianists are often at the center of the debate.
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher For most of my musical life, my go-to memorization strategy was to play things over and over, and hope for the best on stage. I mean, maybe it was slightly more involved than that, but it was definitely not the most […]
Even as a young child, I remember my very thoughtful and forward-thinking violin teacher encouraging me to learn as much from singers as I could.
I think she meant for me to listen and watch recordings, but for a time, I did take voice lessons. That said, my only aspiration vocally was to be able to sing The Chipmunks Christmas song, so my enthusiasm waned pretty quickly once I found out that I wasn't going to be learning how to sing like The Chipmunks…
My parents also tried to get me interested in opera, but that did not spark much joy in 12-year-old me. All I remember is how long they felt, and how desperately I wanted to stretch my legs throughout. Especially the ones where there were no subtitles (yeah, I’m guessing that’s not the correct term for the translations that were projected above the stage, but I assume you know what I’m talking about. 😅)
I think the idea was to learn from singers’ breathing and phrasing. But I don’t think I really grasped what I should be listening for, or how to incorporate any of this into my playing.
Because anytime I thought about breathing, my breathing would become forced and unnatural. And if I tried to think about breathing while playing, not only would I suddenly forget how to breathe like a normal person, but my arms and fingers would start to get all jumbled up and forget how to do their job too.
I have a vivid childhood memory of a time when my mom played me a recording of Itzhak Perlman and suggested that I try to imitate what I heard him doing. The stubborn little kid I was, I refused, because that would be “cheating” and I argued that I shouldn’t be a clone of my favorite musicians. To which my mom said that I needn’t worry - there was no way I was going to sound exactly like Perlman, even if I tried. 😳
I think we all instinctively have an aversion to copying or imitating someone else. But in hindsight, I suspect my mom was right. Because while I couldn’t sound anything like Perlman, I do think I sounded better when I had a clearer, and more aspirational target to aim for.
Plus, there’s that quote often attributed to Picasso which goes something like “bad artists copy, great artists steal.” Which seems to suggest that we all have to start somewhere - and maybe imitation is the first step on the path to finding our own voice?
Whether it’s a particular quality of sound, the way notes are connected together, or even the exact number of wiggles of vibrato per note, what might happen if we try to imitate, borrow, and perhaps even steal, some of the elements that we love most about our favorite artists?
It turns out that imitation/stealing is kind of an art of its own, and not only a fascinating challenge, but a fun one as well. Which may not only make you want to spend more time in the practice room, but record yourself - and listen back too!
How so?
We’ve all heard stories about musicians who used mental imagery or visualization to prepare for a performance or supplement their regular practice. But there aren’t as many stories about how musicians might use imagery during performance - though I have come across a few.
The late violist Roger Tapping, for instance, once described (~19:29) a section in a particular quartet that used to scare him a bit. But he discovered that as long as he listened intently and imagined that he was playing the cello part at that moment instead, his own part would go just fine.
Pianist Vivian Hornik Weilerstein has suggested something similar (~41:02) - explaining that one of the keys to better ensemble playing is imagining your musical partners’ parts by being “inside” their playing.
So…is auditory imagery a skill that isn’t limited to just the practice room, but could help us play more effectively on stage too? Especially when it comes to being a better ensemble player?
“Play from the heart!”
“Try it again - but this time with feeling!”
I think we’ve all had teachers say something like this to us - especially in the early days of learning a new instrument when everything feels so awkward and unnatural, and we’re consumed with trying to overcome all the basic technical challenges of the instrument.
However, even as we advance and become more skilled, it can be easy to continue to prioritize clean playing over expressive playing. After all, there is something very satisfying about practicing for accuracy and getting to use our tuner and metronome apps. And sure, accuracy absolutely does matter, but focusing too single-mindedly on technical precision sucks a lot of the fun out of the experience, both for us and for our audience.
But…how does one learn to play more expressively?
Is it a function of simply “feeling the music” or feeling internally the emotion that we’re trying to express in a passage? Where this feeling is then naturally expressed in our playing and comes across to the listener?
Or is there more to it than that?
The great violinist Jascha Heifetz once remarked that we should always be happy when performing. After all, if things are going well, we should be happy that we’re having a good day. And if things are going badly, each note we play gets us closer to the end, so we should be happy about that too.
That said, it’s still no fun to be stuck on stage, feeling like we're laying an egg. Cringing at each botched shift, garbled run, and cracked note. Which of course just leads to a downward spiral of negativity and increasingly uninspired playing, as a tiny part of us curls up into a ball and dies on the inside, wondering why we even bother to try.
Of course, a week or month (or decade) later, we screw up the courage to listen to a recording of the performance, and are pleasantly surprised by how decent we sound. How the horrible things we were initially mortified by, are barely noticeable, and how many nice moments there are that we didn’t even remember.
So what's the deal? Do we sound better in the moment than we think? Or are our recording devices just not sensitive enough to pick up the things we hear?
Whether it’s sight-reading a tricky piece in rehearsal, playing our least comfortable excerpt in a big audition, or doing a run-through for a colleague whose opinion we respect, most of us are more likely to rush than to drag when the going gets tough. And sometimes, we rush before we even play a note. We walk hurriedly onto the stage, tune quickly, and start to play before we’ve taken a moment to get our thoughts in order.
None of which makes logical sense. I mean, why would we make things harder for ourselves at the worst possible time by depriving ourselves of the time we need?
Of course, it’s not just musicians who tend to rush when anxiety kicks in. Athletes and surgeons (for instance) are prone to this as well. Yet somehow, the very best performers never seem rushed, and always seem to find ways to slow things down and perform at a high level.
How exactly do they do this?
When it comes to being productive and getting work done, do you like to set deadlines? Or are you more the kind of person that just goes with the flow?
I have a kid who seems to be allergic to calendars, and philosophically opposed to setting times for when to do things. He explains that putting things on the calendar doesn’t work, and he responds better if he just does things on his own internal calendar.
Which of course makes me nervous. I mean, if things aren’t written down on the calendar, will anything ever get done?
I tend to write everything down. From what to buy at the grocery store, to how many socks to pack on a trip, to what books I want to read and Netflix shows I want to see, to when the dog should be given his heartworm medicine, it all gets written down on the calendar or a todo list, with dates and reminders and priority flags and everything.
But in all fairness to the kid, I have to confess that most of the items on my todo list don’t actually get done on the schedule I set for myself (if at all!). And I still totally procrastinate on things.
Which is to say…could the kid be onto something? Could deadlines make us even more prone to procrastinating?
Is it possible that his seemingly loosey-goosey approach is actually more effective and less self-delusional? 🙄
As a kid, I remember enjoying lessons much more than I enjoyed practicing. After all, practicing was always a little unpredictable. I never knew if it was going to be one of those “good” practice days where I improved and sounded better - or one of those “bad” days where I got stuck on a plateau.
But in lessons, my teacher would always seem to be able to coax a higher level of playing out of me, and I’d usually leave lessons feeling much more encouraged and optimistic about my playing.
At the time, it seemed like one of those undefinable qualities that made teachers teachers, and students students. But I knew better, as I had a teacher who told me from an early age that her goal was to help me learn how to teach myself. And that this was something she fully expected me to get better at doing from week to week, as I continued my violin studies.
But how exactly are we to do this?
I was never a very diligent practicer, so I often went into performances with a pretty reasonable amount of doubt and uncertainty about how things were going to go. I wasn’t happy about this, of course, but recognized that this was probably how I ought to feel, given my level of preparation.
So one year, I decided to get serious about practicing, and doubled my practice time.
Have a ton of rep to learn, and not much time?
You've heard the old adage "practice makes perfect."
And you've probably heard the saying "perfect practice makes perfect."
That's all fine and dandy, but both imply that motor learning occurs only during practice.
You know those days when you soooo do not want to practice?
Where you sort of putz around the house looking for an excuse to do almost anything else?
On the plus side, I suppose those are the days when the refrigerator gets cleaned out and the bathroom cabinets get organized, but those things don't leave us feeling especially great about ourselves at the end of the day.
Yes, that inner drive sure is nice when it's there, on those days when we feel the motivation to develop our skills, learn new rep, or prepare for an upcoming performance or
Subscribe to the weekly podcast via iTunes | Spotify | Google Podcasts | Stitcher Ever find yourself taking a work or practice break, discover that the new Batman trailer is up, and excitedly click on it, thinking it’s no big deal? But then the next thing you know, you’ve gotten sucked down the YouTube rabbit […]
I’ve always enjoyed a good all-you-can-eat buffet. Not so much for the all-you-can-eat part, but for the opportunity to sample lots of different things.
In a similar way, one of the things I enjoyed most about the summer festival I attended for many of my formative years, was the wide range of repertoire that the orchestras would play over the course of a summer. In nine weeks, we’d have nine concerts, with nine different programs, nine different soloists, and nearly always a different conductor.
When time is short and we have lots of repertoire to learn, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and simply plow through as much as we can in a frenetic, bulldozer-y sort of way.
None of this feels particularly smart or effective as we’re doing it, but in the moment, the desperation kind of compels us to abandon any semblance of practice strategery and simply hunker down and keep our fingers moving, which feels more productive than stopping to engage in practice planning.
But is there a better way of learning music when time is limited?
We all have a voice in our head.
Sometimes it just offers a running commentary on the events around us ("Yikes, why would anybody wear that?"). Other times it just tosses some random weird thoughts into our stream of consciousness to keep us on our toes ("Hmmm...how would I escape an angry bear in the woods?").
If you do a Google search for perfectionism and creativity, you’ll notice that there are an awful lot of articles out there suggesting that perfectionism “kills” creativity (who knew perfectionism was so homicidal…).
I think we probably all know on some level that pursuing excellence is better (at least healthier) than pursuing perfection. But you might be hard pressed to convince a perfectionist that excellence is good enough. At least, I certainly remember a time in my life when excellence felt like settling, and perfect was the only acceptable standard to aim for.
A study was published recently which has gotten a lot of attention[note]Like here[/note] for suggesting that we may be able to double our rate of learning.
At first glance, it’s one of those things that sounds way too good to be true. But on the other hand, wouldn’t it be nice if there really was a way?
Happy New Year! Yep…it’s once again that time of year when we are supposed to think about New Years resolutions and what habits we’d like to change. But with everything we’ve experienced the last couple years, I don’t know if I have the same level of energy as in years past, to make any massive […]
A few years ago, I heard Robert Duke (who was once a band teacher) tell a story about how he flipped practicing, and got his students to beg him to be allowed to practice more.
Essentially, he told his students that they were not allowed to take their instruments home, until he had heard them play individually and gauged whether they could practice effectively and avoid developing bad habits.
Once they demonstrated a certain level of practice competence, they could take their instrument home - but only practice for a limited amount of time.
Ah, the dreaded memory slip.
We’ve all experienced at least one in our lifetimes. And spent many a sleepless night playing and replaying music in our heads, in an effort to reassure ourselves that we actually do have everything memorized. Or spent most of a performance fearing that we’re going to forget what comes next, or get stuck in an endless loop.
It may not literally be life or death, but it can certainly feel that way at times.
But then there are those for whom memorization seems to happen naturally. Easily. Almost without trying.
What’s up with that? Do they know something we don’t? Or are their brains just wired differently than ours?
With the Olympics just around the corner, you’re likely to come across an article or two about athletes’ use of mental imagery or visualization in the near future. Because whether it’s to build confidence, enhance performance, or allow for additional practice repetitions without putting excessive wear and tear on their bodies, mental rehearsal has become an essential piece of many athletes’ training regimens.
It’s not just Olympians who engage in visualization, of course.
I have to confess that when I was in school, ear training classes were always a bit of a mystery to me. Something I grudgingly tolerated (or tried to get out of!), rather than embraced.
I mean, sure, I got that the sight-singing, dictation, and rhythm exercises we did were all intended to help develop my musicianship in some way. But I wasn’t really sure what “musicianship” meant exactly. And I didn’t quite see how any of this was going to help me produce a better sound in my Beethoven sonata or take my Paganini Caprice to the next level either.