An Important Thing To Notice The Instant You Prepare To Play

One of the most fundamental things to pay attention to regarding your musical practice and performance habits is how you prepare.

This “preparation” can be put into two categories:

  1. What you do the months, weeks, hours and/or moments before you begin to play (as in preparing for a specific performance).
  2. What you do the very brief instant before actually producing a sound on your instrument (both in the practice room and in performance).

Though both of these can have a profound impact upon the quality of your musical experience, today I’m going to address the second of these categories: What you do the instant you prepare to play.

As far as the functioning of your brain is concerned, nearly all motor movement (and all skilled and/or learned motor movement in particular) can not happen without some kind of preparation.

The vast majority of this preparation takes place unconsciously (e.g., postural tone, pre-learned basic motor programs, spatial positioning adjustments, etc.), while a much lesser part of it is conscious (e.g., voicing, “setting” the embouchure, conscious hand placement adjustments, etc.)

Though to function well, it is indeed necessary that most of the things you do to “prepare” the instant before playing are done without any conscious effort, there can sometimes be some negative consequences attached to this lack of attention to the details of what you do:

I’m talking in particular about any habits of reaction you have (movement, posture/positioning, attentional quality/direction, breathing, etc.) that might be keeping you from accessing your optimal coordination.

I use the word “habit” here deliberately, meaning that habit is something that you acquire through repetition. It is something learned and constantly cultivated (for better and for worse). Habits manifest themselves unconsciously, and are never “neutral” (i.e., you are either strengthening or weakening them, depending upon experience).

Again, these unconscious habits are useful and highly desirable if they are truly helping you get what you want.

But what about when they’re not helpful?

One of my main jobs as a teacher of the Alexander Technique is helping my clients understand and discover the “unhelpful” (counterproductive) unconscious habits they might bring to their playing experience.

When my clients learn how to recognize and subtract these habits, their playing opens up in lovely ways. In essence, they find more ease, power, control and satisfaction.

One of the first things I look for when I see a client for the first time is the quality of their preparation. “What does ‘getting ready to play’ look like for them?”

In asking myself this question, I look for several things, various clues as to how they are “using themselves”, both in preparation and in performance: what they’re doing with their bodies, how they are using their eyes, the sound/quality of their breathing, and more.

But the main thing I’m looking at is simply how they are managing the relationship between their head and their spine.

In Alexander Technique jargon, this “head/spine” relationship is known as the “primary control”. F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique) called it that because he found that this relationship had a primary impact upon the functioning of the limbs, quality of balance, breathing, as well as other senses and attentional quality.

A lot of what I look for with a first-time client is what they are “doing” with their neck in preparation to play. (Here by “doing”, I mean the typically unconscious and unnecessary muscular effort they’re applying to the act of playing their instrument.)

In reality, the best thing they can “do” with their neck is… nothing.

Yes, nothing.

You see, it’s this interference with the dynamic relationship (think “balance”, “mobility”, “stability”) of the head to neck relationship that is both a manifestation of, and evidence of, other aspects of misdirected effort.

When this misdirected effort is subtracted (or lessened) the ability to access your natural and healthy coordination is restored. You access the optimal conditions within yourself to more effectively “cooperate” with your glorious human design.

So what do you do with your neck that instant before you prepare to play?

What is the quality of your neck? Is it supple, dynamic and tending toward lengthening?

Or is it perhaps held, rigid and tending toward shortening?

If you notice that you tend to prepare by stiffening, holding onto and/or shortening your neck, maybe you can notice some of the other things you do in relation to that.

In particular, notice your jaw (free or held?), your shoulders, your back, your arms/hands, your knees, your connection to the ground, your breathing…your eyes.

Notice whether any of these other components of your “use” are organized and impacted by what you’re doing with your neck.

See what it’s like when you give yourself a wish to simply leave your neck alone, so that your head can balance freely atop your naturally lengthening spine.

Remind yourself that you don’t need to do anything with your neck to prepare to play those first notes. The unconscious movement/postural mechanisms in your brain already know what to do.

When you’re able to leave your neck alone, see if you can notice how the rest of you changes for the better.

Use a gentle, curious and kind awareness of yourself and your habits, and enjoy discovering more ease and satisfaction in your playing.

New Jazz Etude: Phrasing Study Based On “Out Of Nowhere”

One of my favorite harmonic forms to improvise over (as well as to hear other musicians improvise over) is the well-worn jazz standard, “Out of Nowhere”. It just seems to be one of those songs that inspires creatively melodic improvisation. It has a beautifully symmetrical form, and the sharp harmonic/tonal contrasts emphasize this symmetry. It is for this reason that I decided to use this form to compose a solo that is purposefully “non-symmetrical”, yet still captures the essence of the time/harmonic form.

Mostly, this is a study in polymeter. There are numerous instances of 3/4 over 4/4. For example, take a look at the last two beats of measure 12 in the example above. This four-note eighth note pattern gets slightly altered tonally, then displaced by a quarter rest going into measures 13 and 14, creating a phrase sequence that implies this 3/4 over 4/4 polymetric tension.

There are other polymetric events throughout this etude, as well (including 5/4 over 4/4), for you to experience and analyze. Also, I occasionally use both suspension and/or anticipation of harmonic cadences to support the polymetric assymetry, creating lots of “over-the-bar” phrases.

And there is a nice rhythmic surprise (an implied metric/tempo modulation, via eighth-note triplets) in measures 45 through 48:

I’ve suggested a tempo for this particular etude (quarter note equals 132) mostly because I thought the contrasts between the eighth notes and triplets work optimally around that tempo, more or less. I suggest you practice this with the metronome in two ways: First with the click only on the first beat of each measure. Next, with the the click only on the second beat (back beat) of each measure. Both ways will give you a clearer feeling of the metric and rhythmic dissonance. Also, playing this over a backing track could really help you internalize the asymmetrical phrasing qualities as you hear them over the chord changes.

If you’d like to explore this concept further, please consider taking a look at my e-books, Essential Polymeter Studies in 4/4 for the Improvising Musician, and Rhythmic Dissonance. For a free, downloadable pdf of this etude, click the link below:

Awareness In Playing Music: “Looking For” In Contrast To “Noticing”

To improve what you do as a musician, you must pay attention to things in sometimes extraordinary ways.

This is especially true if you aim to change any habits you might have of misdirected effort and energy. To find more ease and efficiency in your body as you play your instrument, you sometimes have to call things into question.

But consciously increasing the awareness of your postural and movement habits as you play your instrument can be a double-edged sword.

On the one hand, if you never become aware of these habits, you’re never going to be free of them (thereby limiting your growth as a musician).

On the other hand, focusing too much on these habits while you’re playing can actually make things worse rather than better.

So to improve what you do, you need to balance these two (sometimes opposing) forces.

When musicians come to me for Alexander Technique lessons, there is always some imbalance between “lack of awareness” and “hyper-awareness”. My job is to help my client explore, discover and cultivate the kind of dynamic (“dynamic”, as in always able to change) attention that will yield the best results.

Here’s a little experiment I sometimes use with the musicians I coach to get them aware, not only of themselves and their postural and movement habits, but of the quality of their own self awareness:

Experiment One-Scanning for Misdirected Effort/Tension/Energy

As you play your instrument, pay attention to a particular part of your body. Do this several times, each time changing the anatomical location of where you’re looking. While drawing your attention to each part, observe and ask yourself these three questions:

1 “What do I notice?”

2 “Am I free and available for movement here, or am I holding on more than I need to?”

3 “What could I let go of to play more easily?”

Don’t worry about being “right or wrong” as you ask these questions. Just observe. You can organize your observations toward the following areas of your body, starting and stopping each time you change the awareness of where it is you’re looking:

  • Head/jaw/neck
  • Shoulders/chest/upper back area
  • Arms/hands/fingers
  • Lower back/abdominal area
  • Buttocks and hips (front and rear of your pelvic area)
  • Knees/upper legs
  • Lower legs/ankles/feet

What do you notice when you do this experiment?

You might have noticed some unnecessary effort (i.e., “stiffness”, “tightness”, etc.) in one or more areas of your body. And that awareness can be a very good thing, enabling the possibility of change and improvement.

It’s also quite possible that in “looking for” this misdirected effort that you actually increased it.

(Take a moment to think about that.)

Too often when you look for “trouble”, you not only find it, but typically amplify it. (There are myriad reasons why that is with respect to how your neuromuscular systems function.)

So “looking” for it helps you become aware of what needs to change, but it doesn’t necessarily improve your coordination in that moment.

Okay, lets look at another experiment:

Experiment Two-Noticing Ease

This time as you play your instrument, pay attention to yourself in a more “global” (whole body) way, instead of the “segmented” way you did in the first experiment.

But this time, don’t “look for” anything in particular. Instead, as you bring your body gently and flexibly into your attention, simply take note of places in your body where things are already easy and free. Notice where you are already mobile, already in good balance, already dynamic, already poised…

In essence, notice the ease that is already there inside you.

That ease might be anywhere…your shoulders, hands, legs, back….in your breathing….

No matter how “tense” you might think you are when you’re playing, there is always some ease going on somewhere. It’s just a matter of being available in your attention to notice it.

To be clear, you’re not searching for something that is not there, nor are you trying to “create” ease. (Trying to do so would most likely invite unwanted/misdirected effort.)

Instead, you’re just opening your awareness to what is already happening unconsciously on its own.

And what do you do with this acknowledgment of ease?

Nothing at all. Don’t form any agenda with what you take note of.

Just let it be.

So what happens when you notice what is already “right” (easy, mobile, freely available, light) inside your body as you play your instrument?

How does this contrast to the quality in your body when you are “looking for” misdirected effort/tension/energy?

(Take some time to seriously ponder these questions.)

You just might find (as I do) that when you “notice ease” in your body, that this ease migrates and expands to other parts of your body. It’s kind of like a “virtuous circle”, perpetuating itself to inform you of the possibility of ease in the rest of your entire organism.

When I’m performing on saxophone, I never “look for trouble” in my body. Because if I do, things become worse rather than better.

But the instant something moves toward “wrong” with myself (in my body) as I’m playing, it comes easily into my attention, and I’m able to gently say “no” to it. (In Alexander Technique parlance, that’s known as “conscious inhibition”.) This is a skill that I cherish, and is one that helps me play with greater ease, efficiency, consistency and satisfaction.

It is a skill that has been (and continues to be) cultivated by “scanning” myself while practicing (Experiment One).

But I had to learn early on as a student of the Alexander Technique to balance the “looking for trouble” part with “noticing ease” as it applies to playing my instrument.

And as I’ve said above, the “looking for it” part can be a useful tool in the practice room when used wisely. (The “looking for it part” is a good place to visit from time to time, but not a great place to live all the time.)

Nowadays, for sure, I notice ease more readily and naturally. And that ability to notice what is already there, what is already helping me, continues to enhance my coordination and skill as a musician.

And I hope it can enhance yours, too! So give this two-part experiment a go. See what you discover. Be kind with yourself, (and curious, persistent and patient, too). And please always feel free to contact me if you need help. Helping musicians do what they do better is my passion!

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

PrescienceThe 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

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.