Category Archives: Alexander Technique and Music

Practicing Music: Why Uncertainty Isn’t Necessarily A Bad Thing

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Prescience– The fact of knowing something before it takes place.

-Oxford English Dictionary

As a species, we human beings crave predictability in perhaps the most elegantly complex ways. And indeed, some of our most remarkable achievements reflect the ability to predict and manage our futures.

This is a mostly a good thing, of course.

But if you’re pursuing artistic skill and development, this need for predictability can be a double-edged sword.

On the one hand, being able to control the medium that you work with is essential for your artistic expression (and satisfaction!) And knowing you can control this medium is a form of predictability that is often the aim of your long hours of practice.

On the other hand, I think it’s important to keep in mind that as long as you continue to grow as a performing artist (and as a human being, for that matter), you must step into the unknown.

You have to let go of predictability.

This is something you do whether you are willing to or not, or whether you are conscious of it or not. It’s a fundamental truth about how things work in the world.

It’s impossible to always know.

You must constantly edify your ideas of what is “right”, and what works or doesn’t.

If you reflect upon it long enough, you’ll realize that what was “right” at some point in your musical development (whether technical, mechanical, or aesthetic) isn’t “right” anymore.

It is this continuous edification that you gain from study, practice, reflection, performance (and sometimes even frustration/dissatisfaction) that is part and parcel to your path to greater realization of your expressive potential.

Nobody likes feeling uncertain as they pursue work. We all like to feel that we are unfailingly on the right path, never wasting an ounce of effort in our pursuit. The picture of efficiency.

This of course is simply not true.

Your progress as a musician is most definitely not a straight in the conventional sense. Rather, it’s a line that moves up and down, up and down…But as you stand back and take a look at the entire pattern over time, it has an upward tendency.

That’s how growth works.

So I think it’s important to realize in this process of growth that you might not always feel certain about what to do. This might be with respect to pedagogy, mechanical/equipment issues, aesthetic principles or even specific skills.

I’m more than okay with that, and I encourage you to be, as well.

As long as you can keep your curiosity and passion lively, trust that you can dwell in uncertainty until you eventually move closer toward your goals. It’s largely a matter of observing your efforts and thoughts in simple, methodical and discerning way:

“Am I clear (or could I be clearer) about what I want?”

“Am I actually getting what I want?”

“If I’m not, then what’s keeping me from getting what I want?”

“What am I actually doing with myself as I pursue what I want?”

(These last two question are emphatically explored in the Alexander Technique)

So I invite you to embrace uncertainty when it arises in your musical development. Sit with it for awhile. Let it marinate. Let yourself not know. Let yourself even be wrong, for that matter.

Above all, know that the uncertainty is not an obstacle, by ultimately, might be just what you needed. Trust that the mistakes you make when you are uncertain might not be mistakes at all, but stepping stones into a beautiful new world.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite musicians, Thelonious Monk, overheard when he was trying to help one of the musicians in his band who himself was stuck in his progress:

You’re making the wrong mistakes. “

When you allow yourself to step into the unknown, you also allow yourself to make the “right mistakes”. The ones that will lead you to what you want.

Turning Adversity Into Opportunity

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One of the things I’ve learned in my daily saxophone practice is to welcome the adversity of unwanted results to my practice efforts.

Whereas before this would lead to frustration (and even despair), now it brings me to a place of quiet curiosity, discernment and experimentation.

To be clear, I very much enjoy the days where everything seems to be going just right. Not only does it gives me the satisfactory sense of being in a state of “flow” with my efforts, but it also affirms that I’m on the right track with my practice strategies and intentions.

But when it’s “one of those days” where even the simplest things start to unravel, I immediately transition into my “why?” mode:

“Why is this always an easy thing for me, but today it is not?”

The answer to this question is always available, as long as I continue to explore and ask further questions.

Whenever things are not going as well as they normally do, it will always come down to one thing: the quality of my attention moment to moment as I practice.

Sometimes this quality of attention issue is more “global” in nature. For example, maybe I’m severely lacking in sleep, or perhaps distracted by some emotional trauma I’ve experienced earlier in the day.

In either of these cases, I practice self-kindness, and determine whether there is a way I can regroup and redirect my efforts in a constructive way to continue; or if I can’t, to simply stop the session and use the remainder of my allotted practice time to give myself more of what I really need (like a nap, or some quiet, compassion-based meditation).

But more often than not, my quality of attention issues are immediately changeable. So if something seems unusually difficult for me that day, I simply observe my thinking, and ask myself questions:

“Where/how am I placing my attention?”

“Am I hyper-aware of what I’m doing, (never a good thing), or am I simply not integrating my awareness as intentionally as I normally do?”

“How is my attention impacting my ‘use’? (the quality of what I’m doing in my body and with my senses)

“Am I focusing too much on the expected result, at the expense of not paying enough attention the quality of my process as I pursue the result?”

“Am I using awareness to discern what I’m actually doing with myself as I practice this particular thing, or am I self-consciously judging the quality of my efforts before I can arrive at that discernment?”

And so on. (One of the most valuable skills gained from studying the Alexander Technique is in learning to constructively apply these “attentional” skills.)

I just keep asking questions, going from the general to the more specific (for example, “How am I perceiving pulse/rhythm today?”), until the answer reveals itself to me. I always find the answer, as long as I stay curious and keep asking.

There are two big benefits from bringing this attitude and commitment into my daily practice:

One, in learning that I can find improvement in even the most difficult of days, I develop a continuing, empowering sense of self-efficacy.

Two, my daily practice sessions tend to be more consistent and productive than ever before.

It’s a win/win situation.

I think it was basketball legend Michael Jordan who said something like:

I never lose. Either I win, or I learn something.

And so it can be in your daily practice sessions. So enjoy the good days, those days where you feel unstoppable in your musical skills and powers. Let them affirm, inspire and energize you.

But I encourage you to also welcome the “bad” days. Because if you are willing to examine and readjust the direction and quality of your attention as you practice, there really are no “bad” days.

Clarifying A Common Misconception About “Tension” In Playing Music

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On the first day of the semester in each of my classes at the performing arts college where I teach the Alexander Technique, I often ask this “trick” question:

“Is it possible to perform (music, acting, dance, etc.) free of tension?”

Typically, the majority of the class answers with a resounding “yes” (as they’ve come to believe that’s what they want, that’s why they’re taking my class).

But the answer to this question is simple: No.

It is impossible to move, maintain balance, breathe, or otherwise function on even the most basic level without some sort of muscular tension. This is not a matter of “opinion”. It’s a matter of fact. It’s part of our human design.

Even when you’re feeling completely “relaxed” there is a certain, necessary amount of postural tone in your body to help you counter gravity (even when you’re lying down.)

So why do so many of these students, themselves aspiring performing artists, answer “yes” to this question?

It’s simple. They think that “tension” is their enemy.

They think that all the problems they have with their movement, posture, breathing, voice, etc., would simply vanish if they could somehow eliminate “all the tension” in their bodies.

But it’s not as simple as that.

It’s not a matter of being “free of tension”, but rather, of recognizing and preventing what I call misdirected effort. It is this “misdirected effort” that is too often perceived and labeled generically as “tension”.

It is this misdirected effort that makes playing music (or engaging in any kind of performance activity) seem “difficult”, “tense”, “stiff”, “stuck”, “rigid”, “unnatural”, “labored”, “self conscious”, “unsure”, “unsatisfactory”, etc.

Okay, so what’s the problem trying to avoid any kind of “tension” when playing your instrument?

The most fundamental problem is that doing so can make you reluctant to sense and accept even the well-directed muscular effort that is necessary to play your instrument.

So as a musician, what might “misdirected effort” be for you?

I’d say it’s anything that you do habitually as you play your instrument that is not only unnecessary to the act of playing that instrument, but also interferes with your natural coordination and your skill.

It is working against the reality of your human design, rather than working in harmony with it.

Let’s look at this example of a fairly common habitual pattern of misdirected effort you might have if you were a pianist:

Whenever you move up or down the keyboard playing a rapid and/or powerful passage, you narrow and raise your shoulders while pulling your head down into your spine.

Now, you might still be able to play just fine doing that, but not because of what you do. That pattern of “effort” (raising/narrowing your shoulders, etc.) doesn’t help you to carry out your wish to play the passage.

In fact, all this misdirected effort in your head/neck/shoulders has a tendency to be an obstacle to the freedom necessary in your arms and hands to play the passage skillfully and expressively.

So in this case, you’re able to play the passage despite doing that (your habitual pattern of misdirected effort), not because of it.

But no matter which instrument you choose, the more you recognize and prevent patterns of misdirected effort, the easier it gets to play that instrument. (Not to mention safer, more consistent and more satisfying!)

So you can observe yourself with this simple question: “What am I doing that is not necessary to the act of playing my instrument in this moment?”

This question (simple as it is) is something that should never be answered definitively. and completely Rather, it is a way for you to explore and discover continual improvement and growth as a musician.

After all, something that seems “necessary” today might not seem so necessary after some days of exploration. Calling what you do into question as you practice is not that same as “doubting” yourself or your technique. It’s just a tool to open up possibilities.

Another good question to ask as you explore and call into question something that might seem like an habitual pattern of misdirected effort is: “What’s it like when I don’t do that?”

And as you ask that question, you might come up with other questions, like:

“Can I still get the sound that I want when I don’t do that?” (if not, why not?)

“How does not doing that affect my sense of time?”

“What changes favorably in my body as I don’t do that?” (or unfavorably?)

“Do I feel ‘undernergized’, perhaps ‘unable’ to play when I don’t do that?”

“Do I rely upon feeling this misdirected effort to ‘believe’ that I’m playing my instrument ‘correctly’?”

And so on…

Some of the more basic things to examine as you explore are:

Your head/neck/jaw relationship. (Is it rigid or free?)

Your shoulders/arms. (same as above)

Your knees (free to move, or “locked”?

Your breathing (noisy and “forced”, or dynamic but “easy and available”?)

Your eyes/gaze (fixed or mobile/dynamic?)

Your balance/connection to the ground (light and expansive, or heavy/compressive?)

(And again, as I mentioned above, anything you notice in your observations can be addressed with that first question: “What am I doing that’s not necessary…?”)

So in the end, “tension” is neither your enemy, nor your friend. It is simply something that takes place between your thoughts and your body. As F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique) stated:

“You translate everything, whether physical, mental or spiritual, into muscular tension.”

Tension is necessary for you to live, and for you to play music. Misdirected effort is not.

Five Checkpoints For Healthy And Efficient Practice

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As I write this post, I can easily say we are living in “historic times”. Because of the current health crisis, people from all over the world are staying inside (thankfully!) much more than usual.

And based upon the significant increase in inquiries about my remote services and my e-books, I can also safely assume that musicians worldwide are practicing their instruments considerably more than usual, as well.

And that’s a good thing, perhaps a small silver lining to this cloud.

So I thought I’d share some very basic principles based upon the Alexander Technique, as well as my experience coaching musicians of all kinds (as well as my own experiences practicing saxophone and improvisation).

These are things to pay attention to that can better enable you to optimize your practice efforts, as well as help you avoid injury or strain from increasing your daily practice time.

I’ve narrowed the topic down to what I consider to be five of the most essential things you can take into account (i.e., five “checkpoints”) in the practice room.

These checkpoints serve as a quick, simple and comprehensive way to take care of yourself as you practice. Here they are:

1. Your head/neck relationship

In Alexander Technique jargon, the dynamic relationship of your head to your spine is called the “primary control”. F.M. Alexander discovered that this relationship is key to governing your overall coordination (hence, the word “primary”).

So as you practice, take a bit of time to notice what’s going on between your head and neck. Is your head balancing freely as you start to play, or are you stiffening your neck, perhaps pulling your head downwards into your spine?

If you allow your head to release upward into free and easy balance on your spine, you might also notice that your shoulders and arms become freer.

If you allow for it, this freedom will tend to spread throughout your body all the way down to your feet, gently encouraging you to release in your back, and unlock your knees and your ankles.

Think of your entire self as expanding into length and width as you play. This expansion is not rigid “posture”, but rather, is dynamic elasticity.

2. Your connection to the ground

Your connection to the ground both supports your head/neck relationship, as well as is influenced (for better or worse) by it.

Allow the ground (or if you’re sitting, the chair) to accept your weight, but don’t collapse downward to do so. Think of your body has having a light, easy and upward suspension that interacts dynamically and efficiently with the ground to counter the downward pull of gravity.

3. Your breathing

Whether you use air to make sound on your instrument, or not, breathing is essential to you coordination, poise, consciousness and power.

For the most part your breathing will “do itself” just fine if you let it. In other words, your brain knows just what to do to breathe optimally if your habits don’t interfere.

In short, think of your entire torso (especially your ribs!) as being free to move in all three dimensions (side to side, front to back, top to bottom) in order to produce the movements necessary for inhalation and exhalation. Don’t aim for anything that feels labored or unnatural.

4. Your external environment

No matter where you practice, always use your senses/attention to include the room you’re in.

This is a matter of allowing your senses to open up and reach outward. So listen for your sound out into the room (as well as hearing or “feeling” it close to you or even “inside” of you).

And let your eyes be free to see the room as well. Not in any kind of distracting way, but rather, as a way for you to get better oriented into your practice space.

If you tend to always close your eyes when you practice a particular thing, experiment with what it’s like to not do that, to actually let your attention be flexible enough to go inwards (towards you) and outwards (where your sound ultimately comes to life) at the same time. Think of your attention as being “inclusive and flexible”.

5. Your use of time

When I talk of “use of time” here, I’m really talking about time as a broad, multi-faceted subject.

There is “time” as it relates to how you play rhythms, meter and inflections. What you do with your metronome, or backing track or drum groove, etc. Because all of your coordination ultimately depends upon your perception of time (“pulse”), I encourage you to make time the most essential musical element whenever you practice, no matter what you’re practicing (even when working on your sound).

And then there is how you use your time to pause and redirect your attention/efforts while practicing a particular thing. It is never a waste of time to stop, notice and redirect. This is an essential tool of the Alexander Technique, and something that takes a good deal of discipline to implement (but it is so well worth it!)

As you learn to pause and redirect, you open yourself up to the possibility of discovery, change and growth.

And finally there is how you use your time to take care of yourself during your practice session.

Make sure your taking lots of breaks (lasting even just a few seconds between iterations of whatever it is you’re practicing, to 5 to 15 minute breaks during your practice session). Doing this will not only keep you healthier (avoiding strain and injury), but will also keep your attentional capacity fresher and more effective.

So enjoy your extra practice time. Use these five checkpoints from time to time during your practice session. Be safe, and stay flexible, curious and productive.

When Practicing Is More Than Just “Practicing”

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“With great elegance, he contrasts the dullness of mindless routine with the exhilaration of mindful ritual”

-Maria Popova, about the cellist, Pablo Casals 

It would be an understatement for me to say that I enjoy my daily saxophone practice more than ever at any point in my life. I look forward to it each day with buoyant anticipation and great delight.

Though I play “better” on some days than others, I never have a “bad” day practicing. (Really!)

This wasn’t always the case for me.

To be sure, I’ve always (even as a beginner) been disciplined about daily practice. I would even say I was a bit “obsessed” at times. Diligent, committed, strategic.

But for most of my musical life, there was not much enjoyment in the process of practicing. The exceptions were when I was having a particularly “good” day playing. These days were few and far between.

It was mostly a “no pain, no gain” attitude that I brought into the practice room. You know, the “If it sounds good, you’re probably not practicing” kind of thing. I practiced for one reason only: to improve. (To be clear, wanting to improve is still important to me!)

But all this began to change as I discovered the Alexander Technique as an effective way to help me deal with a debilitating neurological condition known as focal dystonia.

An essential principle of the Alexander Technique is in giving the “quality of process” top priority in any activity you’re engaged in. In short, you learn to not just focus on your desired goal (the specific thing you’re trying to achieve musically/technically, as you practice), but to always pursue that goal in a way that is in best accordance to your human design and your intentions.

Ease, economy of effort, balance, poise…these qualities of psychophysical experience become as important as the desired musical/technical result itself.

F.M. Alexander described this commitment to the quality of process in activity as the “means whereby”. Or as I say, the quality of “how I use myself doing whatever it is I do”.

So by design, paying attention to the means whereby means being present…curious, receptive, reflective, purposeful, edifying, self-compassionate, playful…It also means being willing to take your time in doing what you do. Not getting ahead of yourself, so to speak.

When you bring these qualities into your daily musical practice, you just naturally practice “better”. You become more efficient in your efforts, more effectively strategic, more open and honest in what you actually “hear” as you practice, what you’re actually capable of. You become more willing to explore being “wrong” to find new possiblities.

You also become so much clearer about what you want, about who you are as an artist.

But you can also learn that being this mindful in the practice room has a remarkable effect on your conscious experience as a whole.

You can discover that paying attention to the quality of the “how” of your practice routine provides a meditative experience. An experience of mindfulness in movement, merged with intention.

In this experience your brain activity actually changes, as in any type of meditation practice. And you might find that you enjoy these new changes in your consciousness, that you find this kind of “presence” in your practice routine as being deeply satisfactory.

And ultimately, you can bring this kind of mindfulness into your daily life, learning to be present and engaged in even the most seemingly mundane activities.

So instead of just practicing as a “means to an end”, you might find that the process of practicing becomes an end unto itself.

How do you go about doing this?

Start with looking for ease in yourself: an easy, fluent and stable connection to the ground; free and expansive neck and shoulders; mobile hips, knees and ankles; full, dynamic, natural breathing, etc.

Then get clear about what it is you want in the moment, what specifically you’re aiming for (musically/technically) as you engage with your instrument.

Use your time mindfully, as well. Choose to stop, to pause, to redirect your attention between “takes” while practicing a particular exercise.

Cultivate curiosity. Ask yourself lots of questions:

“What would I like to have happen?” (What do you want musically/technically?)

“How am I ‘using’ myself right now” (Are you free, mobile and expansive?)

“What am I actually hearing?” (Are you listening openly and actively?)

“What shall I do next?” (Should you repeat what you’ve just played, or move on? Why, or why not?)

Finally, practice being kind to yourself. Take your time. Speak to yourself gently. Smile at your “mistakes” and learn from each one. Realize that the act of practicing your instrument is actually a way of deepening your discovery and understanding of yourself.

Be grateful for this remarkable experience of creating and sensing resonance. And for being able to once more, each day, go inside yourself to find beauty and send it out into the world (even if you’re the only one there to hear it!)

I’ve been practicing through these principles for over 18 years now, and I can tell you that the intrinsic satisfaction of daily practice is a precious, “stand-alone” gift. And as a bonus, I continue to improve and grow as a musician, and as a human being, in ways I never before imagined.

I wish the same for you, too.