Reach first, then build the staircase

Yesterday, I was walking in an athletic park with a soccer field, when I saw this giant tire along the track.

Well, I'm an on-and-off calisthenics enthusiast.  I was actually here to use the pull-up bars shown in the distance.  I've seen the videos of athletes or crossfit trainers flipping these tires for exercise, and I always wondered, "What's the big deal?", so I tried it.   For the record, I tried 4 times...

I couldn't lift it.

I couldn't even budge it.

I could barely get it to wiggle.

To think something would be easy only to find that it isn't even something I can come close to doing is, well, humiliating.  There are times in the past where I would respond in anger, criticizing my shortcomings and maybe even calling myself a failure.  Another common response might be for me to go pick an exercise that I can do well just to show myself I'm still good at something, and then keep doing it.

However, after years of teaching and making myself be mindful of how practice works, and how progress is made, I've come up with what I think is the healthiest response for anyone aspiring to be better.

"I can't do it now.  I MIGHT not be able to ever do it.  However, I can build a staircase to get from here to there, and see how far I get."

If you are on the ground floor and you look up at even the next floor when it's an open floor-to-ceiling section where you can see all the floors, imagine that there's no stairs, no elevator, no escalator, and you have no rope or anything to help you climb upward.  Trying to get to the next level seems insurmountable.  A staircase makes it possible, even if it's a really long staircase.  Even if you're out of shape, you can still take one step at a time at your own pace, and rest as needed.

What is the staircase? 

The staircase can be a lot of things.  It's a list of the easier tasks that can progress to harder ones.  My step 1 was to go to YouTube and see a tutorial in the technique of how to stand, how to position yourself, how to use your leg during the motion...and I wasn't doing any of that.  My next step might be to find a much smaller tire to get used to the technique.  I might also want to practice more on squatting and dead lifts to improve the two movements involved in lifting a tire.

In music, your destination might be playing your music much faster than you can.  You want to play it with the metronome on 150, but you can barely do 60.  The metronome becomes a staircase.  Step 1 is 60.  Step 2 is 65.  Step 3 is 70.  Step 4 is 75, and so on.  It's not the only way to speed up a piece, but it's a reliable way to make some measured progress.

Another goal might be playing a piece of music that is way too difficult for you.  There's a canyon between Chopin's Prelude No. 4 and his Prelude No. 8.

 

If you can play the first (#4), but are nowhere near the 2nd (#8), then you should try #6, then #20, then #2, then basically all of the others with the possible exception of #16 in some order, and then you're ready for #8,  You might have to start very, very slowly, or hands separately, but either way...you are in the midst of your staircase.

And now for the final point that might be a bit painful...

You might not make it.

I might not flip that tire.  You might get about 7 preludes learned, and then hit a plateau.  You might decide some day...maybe you could learn it a long time from now, but you just don't find the time it takes to succeed worth it.  And that's okay.  It's actually okay to reach for something, and not make it.

The important thing is to REACH.  Your staircase has no purpose until you have a target.  That staircase may be too long for you to get to the end.  But you need to move ahead.  There are certain pieces I have played in my life (Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata, Chopin's Revolutionary Etude, Tchaikovsky's 1st Concerto, Liszt's Concert Etude No. 3) that were milestones for me.  They represented, at the time I learned them, something I didn't think I could have done before.  They also represented something I could barely play slowly when I started.  Two of those pieces took me the better part of a year.  My current piece like that is the Piano Sonata from Samuel Barber.

Every piece I've learned like the ones mentioned above have left me better prepared for a whole new level of music.  I'm now accompanying voice lessons on a regular basis for the first time since college, and finding myself well-equipped for every piece I've had to sightread.  I'm thankful for taking the time in the summer of 1996 to play through (not practice, but just sightread) the entire 48 compositions of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier books 1 and 2.  I'm thankful for the time I took since May through late August to play through the entire 19 Sonatas and 3 Fantasias of Mozart.  All of that has made me ready to sightread music for voice lessons.  I'm thankful for every piece I've played that made me question my ability at first.  I'm not ready for the Barber Sonata to sound anything like it's supposed to be, but I'm reaching for it, and building the staircase.

If you at least reach high, but don't make it... you'll still almost certainly be better off than you were before!

Why do we practice?

We practice because...

• it's our only hope for progress.

• it's our only hope against regression.

• we don't want to merely like the idea of being a pianist, but we want to be the pianist.

• there is so much to learn!

• nobody else will practice for us.

• somewhere, someone else is not making excuses.  They're getting better and playing the music you want to be playing.

• we recognize that practice isn't punishment or a chore, but the proven secret to success, the formula that thousands of musicians follow every day!

• if it were easy, EVERYONE would do it.  It's not always easy, but it's always worth it!

• we don't think of it as something we have to do.  It's something we get to do!

It's all of the above.

"Practice only on the days you eat." -  sign in a high school band room.

Residual Effects of Practice

First of all, congratulations to all who participated in the Spring Recital!  Every time you get up in front of people and perform, you should be proud, whether it was the best you ever played or not.

I am in the midst of rehearsing a show as music director and pianist, a show that is known for a difficult piano part.  Now that I've played it with the cast close to a dozen times now, I'm able to make some observations while I'm playing.

1.  At least 90% of this score was sight-readable for me.  Of the 10% I couldn't sight-read well and had to practice, I didn't have to spend more than about an hour of total practice learning 9% of it.  There's about 1% that is genuinely hard and I'm still working on getting comfortable doing.

2.  When I'm playing, I use very little movement.  My wrists and shoulder movement are exactly what I teach in lessons, but I'm not doing much of it, just enough to play it well.

3.  When I play, I know it "looks" easy.  As a matter of fact, it "feels" easy.

All of this led to a conclusion:
The benefits of ease in playing this show are the result of INTENSE PRACTICE of PREVIOUS PIECES.

If you're not struggling with a piece, you are missing out on true growth.  It'd be nice if all pieces were ones you can just look at and play on the first attempt.  Unless you're an absolute beginner, all of you have pieces like that on some level.  However, unless you experience the STRUGGLE of a difficult piece regularly, and learn to overcome it, you will not push your level of comfort to more difficult music. The great news is that what you learn in one piece will help you in future pieces!

To reach this goal of a higher level of playing, here is what I did, and recommend you do.

(1) Embrace the struggle of difficult music.  It's NOT a reflection of how little you've accomplished so far.  You are not a failure for struggling with music.  Each struggle is how you grow.  In fact, it's the only way to grow as a musician.

(2)  Learn to practice strategically, in ways that solve difficulties in efficient ways.  This includes correct practice of accuracy first leading to speed with analysis and repetition as needed.  Everything you accomplish in learning one piece will likely come in as great experience the next time you come across something similar.

(3) LEARN your TECHNIQUE!   Unless someone mistakes you for The Flash as you play your scales, chords, and arpeggios, they are not yet good enough.  There's always room for improvement.  The better you are at those, the less music will catch you unprepared.  Be consistent - the right notes with the right fingerings every single time.  Go as slow as you need, but push for speed as it becomes easy.

(4) Keep improving your knowledge of theory.  When I play, I KNOW my notes.  I don't even think about them.  I KNOW my keys.  I KNOW my key signatures.  I don't miss sharps and flats because I remember them and apply them while I play.  I'm also aware of repeated sections.  I also am thinking about the chords I'm playing.  The more I KNOW, the better I play it.

(5) Practice sightreading.  Take easier music and work on seeing the music ahead of where you're playing, of playing without having to look at your hands.  Sightreading can include playing old pieces you either didn't learn well, or have forgotten.

(6) Memorize regularly, even a few measures.  When playing from music, page turns sometimes demand remembering what's around the corner, so it's helpful to be able to keep playing off the page without making a big struggle of it.

When you begin to feel frustrated with the struggle of a piece, remember that these are merely dues you pay for getting to the next level.  The hard work you spend on a piece will not be spent in vain, even if you forget how to play that particular piece.  Each accomplishment in piano will pay dividends later on.