Non-Advice On Practicing

Really, no one ever taught me how to practice – and I have to admit that none of my students seem to take my advice either (at least not initially.) There seems to be a kind of independent bull-headedness amongst musicians when it comes to the personal routines of practice.

I kind of admire this attitude, even as the student’s struggle to determine their own best practice habits can be frustrating, and may take many months (or years!) When there’s an assertion of independence, there’s usually a fiery, creative artist in there. The great irony is that there are far more commonalities than differences in practice habits among mature concerts artists, and thus it only seems reasonable to point these out.

There are of course the basics: good posture, physical placement on the bench, and hand position; clipped fingernails; sensible use of the metronome; good fingering; piano exercises (Dohnanyi rules!); drilling difficult passages; dotted rhythms; playing hands separately; returning to the beginning when you make a mistake; etc. etc. blah blah blah. The problem is that emphasizing these things – in and of themselves – tends to bore and annoy the student.

What I’ve discovered is that all the practice techniques in the world won’t help a young musician progress to mastery unless there exists an attitude of calmness, discipline, and discovery. I’ll explain a bit of what I mean by each, though in the end the individual will surely want to manifest these in his/her own way. After all, musicians are bull-headed, independent, fiery, and creative artists, right?

At each practice session, you are the only one in the room, and thus your own master: there are no teachers, judges, or audience present. Take as much time as you need to figure out a passage, and eliminate any pressure to play it faster than you can do it well (a mentor of mine used to say “play only as fast as you can think”). Most importantly, cast out any feelings of fear that you can’t do it (because you can, with practice) or judgment (no one is judging you -- even at your lessons, your teacher is simply helping you along your path of becoming a better musician.) Relax, and enjoy your time alone at the instrument. Learning happens best when you feel comfortable!

What I mean by this is actively doing the work of learning the piece, rather than making passive attempts to assimilate the music by merely playing it over and over. The former method, because it engages the brain, is far more effective, takes less time in the long run, and best of all, builds tremendous confidence and mastery! There are many examples of how one can work with discipline; I’ll give a few:

.....Determining good fingerings at the outset, and observing them consistently

.....Making a list of “work areas” – places that need extra attention – and drilling these slowly and carefully every day (~5x without mistakes)

.....Fixing problems as soon as they occur

.....Regular use of the metronome (set to the half note when possible; avoid the eighth note, which kills musicality)

.....Practicing frequently in small doses (research shows the brain retains information better this way than in long cramming sessions)

.....Working on small sections (1/2 page or so) at a time; perfect these before moving on

.....Playing through a piece with no pauses or hesitations no matter what happens – learn the art of faking!

.....Regularly reviewing the basics of a learned piece: slow practice, drilling, etc.

This aspect has to do with being open to what the piece can teach you. There are so many things of which you can become aware: the physical sensations of your hands (and feet) as you perfect your technique, the compositional elements of the work, the composer’s intentions and indications, the emotional landscape or affect of the piece, the formal structure, harmonic and melodic elements, voice-leading and counterpoint. This attitude is what results in the “aha!” moments that bring the practice session alive – when you suddenly realize that a different fingering makes a passage easier, or that timing your rubato differently in a phrase brings about a more beautiful result, or that using the finger muscles rather than the entire hand gives a clearer touch, or that playing chords in a more detached manner gives cadences an extra punch, or that eliminating 4’ flutes in registration makes the ensemble tighter and more in tune, or that the tenor and alto parts in a section are based on the same musical motif, or that the chorale is hidden in the pedal, or that consistent articulations of a point of imitation suddenly make the piece dance and sing! In some respects, this attitude is like that of a scientist looking at something through the microscope, or a mathematician solving a problem, and the process can again become fun, and its own reward. It is at these moments that you return to the childlike joy of just loving music again, back when you played just because you wanted to. When your practice sessions, and indeed your life, embody this kind of openness, there’s no telling just what kind of magic will happen....