A "HOW TO" PRACTICE PRIMER, PART II
“It’s frightful to witness how idiotically people practice.”
—Andras Schiff
Though some readers might find this musing from the great pianist and conductor bothersome, I hope that my inclusion of it here will inspire, rather than infuriate, the sincerest of readers to reassess their time spent in the proverbial woodshed.
Time is a very valuable commodity, one that cannot be recovered after it is wasted. In youth, one may not feel these words very much, if at all, but as time progresses they resonate ever increasingly. My previous entry covered some basics with aim to provide a solid foundation upon which further principles can be built. For your consideration, I proffer the following salient items which I often see to be neglected, if not absent entirely:
AN ATHLETIC MINDSET
I have a daily warmup routine which I make every classical guitar student do at the start of each lesson. This particular set of drills evolved over time, dating back to my own days as a student when realizing the errors of my own “idiotic” ways. They serve two functions: one; provide a daily technical acquaintance for purpose of building and improving basic movements, and two; physically warming up the tissue of the fingers and hands so they can move more fluidly. This routine grows in length as the student progresses and incorporates more techniques into their skillset. It may vary in length, with regards to warm-up purpose, depending on ambient temperature and how the student’s hands feel that day. Also, depending on the nature of a particular composition featuring a special playing technique (tremolo, for example), I might insert some grunt work unique to that technique as preparation.
I should disclaim that there is absolutely nothing unique or revelatory here, yet it is a revelation for all who have previously denied themselves such a beneficial habit. Athletes respect the importance of physically warming up their body tissue to a temperature optimal for training or performance, and structure their choice of movements according to whatever skill foundations they know to be relevant to the task at hand. Practicing musicians should be no different in this regard, and I am insistent in guiding a thorough warm-up at every lesson’s start for this very reason. Ideally, the student would follow a similar protocol during their own practice sessions, though enforcing such homework obviously falls outside of my jurisdiction.
Every so often, I ask my students if they are incorporating these drills into their daily sessions, and to their individual credits each, I usually receive an honest answer; that is to say, an answer consistent with their quality of playing I observe that day. Those regularly doing the drills tend to exhibit better form, sharper reflexes, and clearer articulations. They also demonstrate drastic improvement in technical capacity after having kept up the ritual over time, evident in their speed, finger independence, and overall efficiency of movement.
BLISTERING SEATS
The idea of long practice yielding excellence is, to my way of thinking, in tremendous need of reappraisal. With no further illustration or structure, I posit it as overly simplified advice meant to be helpful. In my earliest days as a child piano student I had heard stories of virtuosos past who had allegedly blistered their fingers—even their butts—slavishly chipping away daily practice sessions in excess of ten hours! And nothing within these inspired (and more likely, apocryphal) tales advising how and what to practice, two variables which exert far greater influence on a musician’s progress. The concept that ‘more time is better’ in practice bears reconsideration because it does not in any way account for the quality nor the specific approach of actual work in such time, or that the prolonged sameness of task might engender a deleterious effect on one’s mental faculties. Structuring time is in order so that, say, in three to four hours for an advanced student (maybe even less), productivity could be greatly enhanced, freeing up those remaining six to seven hours of the day towards, I don’t know, perhaps something novel like having an actual life, that little thing which might enrich one’s art.
If practice is undertaken to gain a level of familiarity with a particular skill, then what happens when the level of familiarity within a single session reaches over-exposure? The brain becomes so familiar with the repetitive work that it eventually becomes indifferent, an adaptation to the improvement-seeking process not dissimilar to what athletes encounter when a particular strength training modality has been employed for too long to where progress stalls or reverses, or when a person eats the same exact food day after day only to become sick of it. This indifference is the very antithesis to what we are seeking. In musical practice, repetition is an absolute prerequisite to gaining mastery, of course, but once overdone, runs risk of desensitizing us to all of the valuable information we are receiving as we practice in each moment. As the brain becomes desensitized, mistakes begin to blossom in places where, earlier when the brain was still reasonably fresh, they did not exist. Once the quality of practice reaches this state, any further effort is to one’s musical detriment.
(I should insert here that rank beginners aren’t likely to discover this indifference from such taxing commitment, seeing as A) the amount of time you practice will tend to be much shorter; and B) the expectations of a beginner’s assignments should be far less complex.)
Awareness is the determining factor here, and if that means giving yourself a limit for each day, so be it. Remember that time is most valuable. True lasting progress is not something which can be measured in a single session; your most valuable metric is your long-term trajectory.
A personal approach: I enjoy taking frequent breaks in the woodshed these days. Playing for a short stretch gives me exposure to whatever selection I decide, followed by a “refresher.” I like getting away from the instrument, getting a coffee or a water, or tackling some other task, and then quickly returning to do another burst of the same passage to see how I fare. My observation after having done so leaves me with a greater feeling of self-preservation and a more tangible connection to the music I am learning. It is as if my mind has absorbed the material with greater focus and clarity. Experiment with this simple approach and see if you do not observe better results upon return.
CHEW YOUR FOOD (THE PIZZA ANALOGY)
This is a big one. Often, I am heard reciting an analogy to my students involving pizza. Analogies are an intrinsic tool in a teacher’s arsenal to convey and convince. Mindful that we are addressing practice, which likely triggers a slight apprehensiveness for many, I hope that pizza, a food that many consume with delight, establishes that much needed connection between the pleasure center part of the brain and the daily grind I want my students to embrace.
Periodically, I will ask students to describe their typical practice session to me. Often, the description reads to be the predictable “play the piece again and again until there are less mistakes” approach. When the student begins a new piece of music, they return home to work in this manner the first week, only to come back to the next lesson with much of the same issues they had at the beginning. Sometimes it might be only slightly better, often times the same, and occasionally it may even sound worse.
If you take anything of value from this month’s offering, please let it be this: you only have a certain number of total minutes daily allotted for practice. If you have played through an entire piece of unfamiliar and challenging music front to back repeatedly, and this approach describes your entire session, you have more than likely wasted your time. Even if you gain improvement in this manner, you’ve achieved progress with overkill. With dogged beginning-to-end repetitions, the student has not used enough of their time towards bettering the not-so-OK parts, because such problem areas received about as much attention as the portions which the student can already play competently. And yet, the struggling student says, in a manner of speaking, ‘I was there everyday. I sat down, put the time in, and worked on it. It’s not getting better fast enough.’
“Learn to study with the mental simplicity of a child, concentrating only on the problem that is to be overcome today and not bothering with tomorrow. In this way you can find joy and self-assurance in conquering each problem, and every day you will be closer to the goal you are so earnestly seeking.”
—Pepe Romero
I believe that musicians do a lot of what they do not because they do not know better, but because a myriad of mental and emotional conditioning exists, driving out common sense once they face off with their instruments before they’ve had a chance to think sensibly. Another reason may be too much eagerness to be “good” too soon, reinforcing the ego’s belief that it can tackle more than perhaps the student should. Whatever the distraction, the individual who genuinely seeks to improve must consciously choose to rise above these trappings by exerting mindful intent, along with some careful planning—all before a single note is played.
Back to the pizza analogy, let us say that a particular passage of music has four lines, and each line has four measures. I will then ask the student to think of the piece as they would a pizza, with its constituent lines being like slices, and the measures as bites. Of course they would not try to inhale the entire pie (though I am baffled to have encountered a number of younger students who insist to me that they can do this). When you eat, you take one bite of a slice, and spend some time chewing it with purpose of physically breaking down the solid food. This critical first step is necessary for the food to safely embark the digestive process so that your body can absorb the important nutrients. Ponder the connection knowing that, as with eating, rushing this part when practicing music, too, has undesirable consequences.
Measure number one, practiced “X” times by itself, instead of being performed in one fell swoop with the remaining measures in the line, will gain much greater proficiency, and in much less time than slogging front to back ad nauseum. Then, follow suit with measure number two. After the same level of comfort is experienced as with meas. 1, try combining both measures to form a longer unit. This will evaluate if any further work within the single measures is needed or not. After combination proves a successful improvement, proceed with the remaining measures 3 and 4, first separately, and then together as well. Eventually, the whole line can be played, with far fewer errors and a drastically greater ease.
This is a simple and efficient approach which eludes far too many, and I’ve seen it elude beginner and advanced alike. If you haven’t tried it before, I wouldn’t be surprised if reading this breeds an irresistible urge to slap your forehead. It should, but don’t hit yourself too hard. Rather, take your bites. You will soon bask in your newfound rewards, feeling rejuvenation and the all-too-precious sense of accomplishment from practice, instead of fatigue or frustration. This method is such an eye-opener that I nearly always find myself a new conscript before lesson’s end. Seemingly at once, time becomes friend instead of enemy, practice becomes an encouraging, worthwhile pursuit, and think of all the decreases in blistering body parts!
What I have just outlined is simplified for purpose of illustration, and suits beginners quite naturally. With more advanced students, the same principles apply as much if not more so. When the music is substantial, the “bites’ might be defined according to phrases, portions of phrases, or an extract where an awkward physical shift of position of some sort presents a challenge. To add further components to the repetitions after basic fluidity is achieved, I encourage manipulating the expressive variables, such as dynamics and articulations. This too is not some new discovery I claim uniquely— all good musical training advises it. One may be able to play something successfully three times without error, but if asked to play it a fourth time with a different articulation or phrasing suggestion is led to err. This occurs because the music wasn’t learned well enough to survive a change in execution, which became a distraction. As a further benefit, manipulating such musical variables can also steer off any boredom which might rear its ugly head when the work is more mechanical and labor-intensive.
I could continue here with more approaches and tricks, but I will save them for future segments. To sum up this installment, take away the following ideas and implement them next session:
Set aside time for an adequate warm-up that will serve the purposes of both defining technique, and physically warming up the body in preparation for the day’s work.
Be aware of everything you do. It is quite difficult initially, but just like any endeavor, becomes easier with perseverance.
Break down the music you are learning into smaller, bite-sized areas, especially where problems occur, so to give more attention to sections which need it, giving less time to sections that do not. Only after adequate time is spent with smaller chunks, then combine the smaller components into larger ideas.
Don’t practice too long. You will see when you have done this once you notice diminishing quality in your playing.
Try breaking up longer practice sessions with short “refresher” breaks so that you can preserve mental clarity and test your memory.
Allow this paraphrase of an oft-heard sentiment to preface your next session: It’s not the amount of time you spend practicing that counts, but how you use it.