STATUS: INACTIVE // READ-ONLY

Blog

  • 10 subtle signs you are NOT trusting yourself while practicing

    Should you trust yourself while you practice? There might be some benefits. But, you will not even know how unless you pay attention to signs that it is not happening. To get you started, here’s a list of ten such indications:

    1. Playing a wrong note twice, trying to fix it the second time.
    2. Trying to make sure you play the right dynamics, fingering, phrasing, etc. (you think you know what’s so important, don’t you?).
    3. Realizing you missed something coming up in the music and rushing to fix it before it’s too late.
    4. Playing tentatively because you believe your idea of the music is less valid than your teacher’s.
    5. Stopping when you have a “memory slip.”
    6. Looking at your hands to make sure you hit the right notes.
    7. Looking at the music to make sure you don’t miss anything.
    8. Playing slowly because playing fast stresses you out.
    9. Playing fast because playing slowly stresses you out.
    10. Looking through this list the next time you practice and trying really hard not to do any of them.

    So what DO I do?

    Do these things if you want. Maybe you have really good reasons for doing them. Or, you could try not doing them.

    Either way, pay attention to what happens.

  • How do I play the piano without messing up?

    It is very natural to want to play without messing up. Let me ask a different question, though: As a musician, how often do you take a stance of acceptance towards yourself?

    I see in my students and colleagues (and certainly myself) constant battles, efforts at correcting or running away from our faults. What if those faults don’t need to be chased away? Could we even embrace them?

    Can you accept “messing up”?

    What exactly are we not accepting? While playing, we experience sensations, thoughts, feelings, and perceptions. Evaluations such as “this doesn’t feel right” or “this doesn’t sound right.” Thoughts like “I’m no good” or “this worked better last week.” Maybe we try to fix our technique, to match a sensation we remember from the past. Play in tune, with proper rhythm. Please the teacher, chase away our feelings of inadequacy.

    Whether or not these are valid concerns, we still have the choice at any moment to either pursue them, or accept that things might not go perfectly.

    Why would we accept “messing up” while playing? After all, isn’t our aim in practicing to eliminate what we don’t like, to present the audience with an enjoyable, polished product?

    Perhaps, but do those goals interfere with our actual work while practicing and performing? Could our performance be based on qualities such as:

    • Aesthetics?
    • Physical comfort?
    • Athleticism?
    • Creativity?

    If we base it instead on avoiding that which we fear, what room do we have for exploring those other qualities? If the goal of technical training is expanding our knowledge of the cause and effect relationships between our bodies and our instruments, is it possible that avoidance can have a limiting effect on this exploration?

    How can we practice acceptance?

    Well, we could move toward that which we fear. We could notice when we are avoiding, not so that we can slap ourselves on the wrist, but rather so that we can make a conscious decision to stop avoiding. Could we take an attitude of “yeah, it sounds bad, so sue me”?

    Exercise: Choose a small passage of music or technical exercise and play it. Ask yourself “Did I feel at any point that my attention wandered away from my intention, toward something that needed to be fixed?” See if you can find what exactly it is you were afraid might happen. Play the passage again, reminding yourself that the idea is now to welcome whatever it was you were trying to keep at bay.

    What thoughts does this bring up? Do you feel you might be compromising yourself as a musician, lowering your standards?

  • What your strict piano teacher might be missing

     

    All one has to do is hit the right keys at the right time and the instrument plays itself. — J.S. Bach

    We all know that you’re supposed to play classical music right. After all, there are just so many things to get wrong, aren’t there? Wrong notes, wrong rhythms, wrong dynamics, wrong phrasing, wrong articulation, wrong attitude.

    However, what if there were no way to do it wrong? Are there benefits to getting rid of the concept of “wrong”? Even just for a bit?

    Yes, you would be lying to yourself (everyone knows there’s a right and wrong, right?). Of course, you would be disrespecting your teacher, the composer, and the great art of music. Certainly, you would disappoint your audience and embarrass yourself. Without a doubt, you might never make any progress whatsoever, and you might even go backwards. If you’re in school, you might fail. If you’re working, you might get fired. You might get a nasty look from the conductor.

    Let’s not argue with any of that.

    Now, I don’t mean to take this lightly (well, part of me does). But my question is only: are there any benefits to doing it wrong?

    For instance, would it be more fun? How about freer? More personal? Maybe it would it hurt less? Or, would it let you give up the strictness of trying to get it right? Once that stress is gone, would you be more relaxed, more observant, more willing to take risks?

    Even just for a moment?

    It’s only a question.

  • How to Use a Metronome

    How to Use a Metronome

    At first, most musicians despise the metronome. That’s normal because this mechanical device makes it impossible to ignore flaws in your playing. At the same time, this is precisely why you should learn how to use a metronome.

    In this article, I will address a few common arguments against practicing with the metronome. Also, I’ll give some practice tips which will help you learn to see how the metronome makes practicing easier and more relaxing, once you get over the initial hurdles. Finally, I will give some advice on how to find the best metronome for piano practice.

    ​

    Argument 1: The metronome only has one purpose.

    The metronome has many purposes. It can help you solve a variety of problems, and is useful in a variety of circumstances.

    For example, it can be used to:

    Thus, I am tempted to say that if you don’t use a metronome regularly in your practicing You’re Doing it Wrong, but I’m sure that would be unfair. The purpose of a metronome is to help you keep one foot in the “real world.” So, don’t ignore how much benefit you can get from it!

    Practice tips:

    If you aren’t accustomed to practicing with a metronome, or if you only pull it out once in a while, try practicing with it more frequently. Have it running the whole time, while you practice for 20 minutes (set a timer). Notice what it does for you. What does it make easier? What does it make harder?

    Argument 2: The metronome is only for beginners who can’t keep time.

    No one has a problem “keeping time.”

    The same beginners who struggle mightily to count to the number 4 in a piano lesson have no problems performing complex dance moves with their friends or singing along to their favorite songs on the radio. Additionally, they have no problems walking, talking, playing video games, or any of the other thousands of tasks that call for highly trained and coordinated senses of rhythm and timing.

    The reason they seem to lose all of this in a piano lesson is only that they are distracted. That is, they are trying to do many things at once (play the right notes, read the symbols on the page, please the teacher, prevent themselves from screaming in frustration) and they are caring very much whether they are doing them well. Yes, that messes up your sense of time. So, the purpose of the metronome is to bring you back into the present.

    Finally, it is not only beginners who get distracted. However, maybe you’ve learned to hide it. That is, you’ve learned to play reasonably in tempo, despite your distractions, your anxieties, your fears, and your insecurities. However, are you paying any price for that?

    Practice tips:

    If you find that you have a problem keeping time, experiment with letting go of this. Instead of trying harder to play in tempo, rely on the metronome guide you. Trust it to keep the tempo, and focus your energy on playing comfortably. Let it be your teacher.

    Argument 3: The metronome is too stressful.

    If you think the metronome is stressful, you are probably taking it way too seriously. In reality, the metronome can be a calming, soothing force.

    Practice tips:

    Don’t try to follow the metronome. That is where the stress comes from. Instead, let it click in the background. Sometimes you’re with it, sometimes you’re not. Does it matter? Is it going to yell at you if you deviate from its tempo?

    If you feel rushed by the metronome, can you let it go?

    Argument 4: The metronome leads to mechanical playing.

    On the contrary, I believe that it can be an incredibly useful tool for developing musicality. That’s because the purpose of the metronome is not to learn musicality per se, but rather to learn control and poise. Once you have control, you can express the music however you see fit.

    It is musicians who cannot play with a metronome, and instead base all of their movements on escaping their internal anxieties, who end up playing inflexibly and mechanically.

    Practice tips:

    Use the metronome to help you get to a point where you can play mechanically. Once you are at this point, notice what freedom this gives you in being able to play expressively.

    Don’t rely only on your feelings while practicing to tell you whether this is working. Instead, record yourself. Does your “expressive” playing sound expressive? Does your “mechanical” playing sound mechanical? Use your ears to guide you, not just your thoughts about how you “should” be practicing.

    Argument 5: I don’t have a metronome.

    If you don’t have a metronome, you should get one. Luckily, this isn’t a hard problem to solve. There are many types, at all different price points, including free apps for your phone.

    You don’t need anything fancy, but here are some factors you should consider when shopping around:

    • Price
    • Volume level: Make sure it gets loud enough!
    • Ease of use: It should be easy to change the tempo quickly. I prefer the kind with dials as opposed to up/down arrows. I don’t like digital displays, because it just takes too long to read them. 
    • Portability: If you travel with it, it should be something that you can easily throw into a bag (both in terms of size and durability).

    Best Metronomes for Piano Practice

    Digital

    This is my personal favorite. This is the only metronome loud enough to hear and melodious enough to make me enjoy listening to its click.

    App

    Simple Metronome

    I have been using Simple Metronome on my Android phone for a few years. Many mobile metronome apps are cumbersome to use or have too many ads. I find that Simple Metronome lives up to its name. I still prefer the real thing with a dial, but this is the second best.

    Your turn

    Now that you’ve read these tips, take out your metronome and practice. Don’t be satisfied doing things the same way you’ve always done them. Try a new way of using the metronome!

    And, leave a comment below and let me know how it goes for you. I’d love to hear how this article is helping you with your practicing.

  • Why you think piano is hard

    Here’s a challenge for you: can you just let go of your difficulties?

    Maybe you say letting go is not hard enough. You say it’s too easy to let go; what you really need is to hold on, to challenge yourself, to get it right, to learn.

    You’re playing the piano, and you feel stress creeping up. Your shoulders tense, your jaw clenches, and you start freaking out about what’s coming next. You say piano is hard, but could you just let it go?

    This sounds like a question you’ve probably heard a million times in the past. Of course, the common advice is to simply relax, take it easy, focus, breathe, etc. You’ve heard it all before.

    It will be easier, you will have less stress, it will feel better, it will be more fun. Right? Then why don’t you do it?

    Maybe you try, but it doesn’t work. You stay relaxed in the places where the music is simple, the spots you know well…and then something comes up and the tension is suddenly back again (doesn’t seem so easy, does it?).

    Or maybe you manage to do it for a moment, but your playing is worse as a result. Your articulation is sloppy, you miss notes, etc. You’re not going to let that happen again, are you?

    So the tension and stress continue forever.

    You always try to play well…that comes so easily to you…it’s second nature, isn’t it? How can that be the hard way?

    Maybe the hard way is letting go.

  • Interpreting poems

    As someone who plays a lot of art songs, I am constantly faced with issues of poetic interpretation. Is there a right or wrong interpretation of a poem? What would it mean for an interpretation to be right or wrong?

    One could say that an interpretation is right if it accounts for every detail in the poem, and does so in a way that is the simplest possible accounting of all of those details. If an interpretation either does not account for every detail, or it contradicts a detail, or another interpretation accounts for all the details in a simpler way, then it is a wrong interpretation, or at the very least incomplete.

    That’s all well and good, but is that really a useful definition? For example, suppose I have an interpretation that accounts for every detail of the poem. How would I actually know that it accounts for every detail? It might just account for every detail I have thought of, and someone else might be able to point out another detail that it does not account for, or worse, a detail that it contradicts.

    So, while, theoretically there could be an interpretation that satisfies all those criteria, I don’t see any way it could really be said that a given interpretation is the correct one, or that a given interpretation is a wrong one. After all, a so-called wrong interpretation, one which is contradicted by some detail, might actually be vindicated by the discovery of another detail which removes the contradiction.

    Let’s explore what I think is the actual root of this problem. It seems to me that any definition of “correct interpretation” is ultimately trying to capture the notion that the correct interpretation is the one the poet had in mind. This is an issue not just in poetry, but in all kinds of art, music, writing, etc. I would like to challenge the notion that the poet’s interpretation actually has any more validity than that of anyone else.

    You might say “it’s his/her poem, of course it should be up to him/her what it means!” What do you even mean by “mean”? If the poet wishes to express him/herself directly, he/her could do that, instead of writing a poem. I think there must be a distinction here between “what the poem means” and “what the poet means”. The latter would be a feature of the poet’s own psychology, but the former is a more complicated matter. A poem is not a conscious being, and does not have its own intentions. It is a collection of words, which can evoke meanings in the minds of its readers. Those meanings can agree or disagree with each other, they can change over time, they can take into account some or all of the details of the poem, they can take into account details the poet was not aware of. They can be the result of a misunderstanding of the poem, or of a greater understanding of the subject matter than the poem itself suggests.

    How can you say that any of these interpretations is the “correct” one?

>