Tag Archives: Alexander Technique

Clarifying A Common Misconception About “Tension” In Playing Music

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.

Remember to Pay Attention to This Important (Yet Too Often Overlooked) Component of Your Practice Routine

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The first time I give an Alexander Technique lesson to any musician, there are three things in particular that I’m going to pay the closest attention to before they even play one note on their instrument:

1. How they describe the problem (or perceived need) that led them to see me for help.

2. How they maintain their upright “stature” (habits of misuse or imbalance in sitting, standing and moving in general).

3. How they assemble their instrument to prepare to play.

It is this third thing (assembling the instrument) that I wish to address in this post.

What I often see in a first lesson when a musician gets ready to take the instrument out of the case, is a considerable amount of what we refer to in the Alexander Technique as “misuse”.

Usually this entails lots of compression in the body:

Head pulled down onto the spine.

Shoulders narrow and held.

Arms, fingers and hands tensing up.

Forehead wrinkling as the eyes go into a fixed and narrow gaze.

Ribs being held to temporarily hold the breath.

Spine collapsed and knees locked while bending to pick up the instrument.

And more.

In short, lots of misdirected effort…

Plus, there is nearly always a sense of hurriedness in the entire process, as if the “task” of putting the instrument together is just some mindless necessity to get out of the way so that the “real” activity can actually start.

Yet it is the very act of preparing your instrument that can have a profound impact upon how you proceed with the rest of your practice session. Most notably in two ways:

First, how you’re organizing your attention to prepare for the work ahead.

Second, what you’re doing in your body as you prepare for this work. (To be clear, both of these things are inextricably related.)

Whenever I see a musician “scramble” to mindlessly assemble the instrument, what I also notice in their “use” as they begin to play is simply a continuation of that same psychophysical state. In other words, misdirected effort in assembling is followed by a similar misdirected effort when actually playing.

So when you practice each day, consider paying attention to what you are doing with yourself as you move toward, and assemble, your instrument.

Here are some things to keep in mind and to aim for:

Give yourself time. It all starts here. Not only in being more leisurely in how you approach and assemble your instrument, but also giving yourself a chance to return to the present moment. Think of it as a brief “warmup meditation”.

Aim for light, easy and balanced. Whether you’re sitting or standing, allow yourself to release into the length and width of your full stature. No need to sit up or stand up “straight”, simply let the ground support you and expand upward and out into the room.

Breathe. You don’t need to take a breath, or even breathe deeply. Just bring your attention gently to your nostrils and notice that you already are breathing. Taking time in doing so is moving you in the right psychophysical direction for practice.

Proceed with freedom and ease. Be mindful of how you move toward your instrument. As you bend, allow your hips knees and ankles to work together in a gently integrated way. Aim for balance, suppleness, and lively but light mobility.

Be kind to the case. If you’re instrument is in its case, take your time opening latches, zippers, etc., As you do so, pay attention (and wish for) the same easy, spacious use of yourself you had in moving toward your instrument.

Be kind to your instrument. Aim for the same quality in your hands as you reach for your instrument you’d like to have when you’re actually playing it. It is sometimes this first contact with your instrument that can set the tone and mood of your practice session. And of course, assemble it with love, care, and a sense of gratitude. (You’re getting ready to do the thing that lights up your heart and soul!)

Be kind to yourself. Expect good things. Caress that first note with a gentle curiosity, as if you’re gradually discovering your sound. Listen to and realize that sound, then wish for more as you continue to explore and shape your sound to suit your imagination.

So notice how you approach and assemble your instrument when you begin your practice session. Discover how being gently mindful in doing so can become an essential part of an efficient and effective warm up. Follow the procedures I’ve detailed above, and enjoy the difference!