Tag Archives: Repetitive Strain Injuries for Musicians

The Difference Between Playing Music Normally And Playing Music Naturally

“Everyone wants to be right, but no one stops to consider if their idea of right is right.”

F.M. Alexander

Whenever I teach the Alexander Technique to musicians, there always seems to be these revelatory moments when they find they’ve been wrong all this time about something that previously felt perfectly normal in playing their instrument. Typically, it’s something that they thought was helping them play better. Ironically, it more often than not turns out to be the very thing that is making playing more difficult.

Why would any musician hang on to a habit that is making things worse rather than better?

Simple. It’s because habits feels normal. And as long as those habits feel normal, there’s no impetus for change.

Many musicians are wary, even suspicious, when it comes to changing habits. “It doesn’t feel natural to do it that way. I just want to play naturally.” I hear this on a regular basis as I teach new students.

But these musicians are confusing natural with normal.

Normal is what you do habitually, no matter if it’s in accord with the design of your bodily structure, gravity, and the physical laws of acoustics, or not.

Natural, on the other hand, is when you direct your playing toward being in harmony with these things. To let your playing be supported by the laws of nature.

So as I teach, I keep two objectives in mind:

First, to help my students learn what is natural, to help them understand how they function best within the laws of nature.

And second, to get them to stop relying solely on what feels normal as a guideline for directing their efforts in playing music.

The first of these aims is fairly easy for me to implement. By giving students a chance to understand (both intellectually and kinesthetically) how their bodies work best to play music, they practically have no choice but to realize that their previous conceptions are somewhat inaccurate.

The second of these aims is a bit harder to bring to fruition. Because musicians are so driven to play by what feels normal, what feels right, sometimes the only way they can open the door for constructive change is to allow themselves to feel wrong. Not an easy thing for musicians to do (nor anyone else for that matter).

Even if a musician can clearly and unmistakably hear the improvement in that instant when they stop doing their habit, they can sometimes still haunted by that sense that “It doesn’t feel natural to do it that way.”

But as the Alexander lessons continue, the student gets enough of these experiences with the unfamiliar sensations that they stop feeling wrong. When that happens, it’s an indicator that great changes have been made with regard to their old habits (and to the quality of their playing).

Usually at that point I make a little experiment. I’ll use my hands to guide them back into their old habits, just so they can the sense the changes they’ve made. When I do this I usually hear something like, “Seriously? I used to do that? That feels terrible! It feels so unnatural.”

And of course, it is unnatural. But fortunately it is no longer normal.

When this shift in thinking occurs, the musician is solidly walking upon a path of continuous growth and improvement.

Here are a few things you can do to point your playing toward the natural as opposed to the normal:

Study the laws of nature-It is vitally important that you move in a direction of better understanding both your body and certain principles of physics that are relevant to playing music. Browse anatomy books to better understand your structure. Pay careful attention to the shape, location and function of your joints. Also, get to know and understand the essential physical properties that govern sound production. By getting a clearer understanding of the physical phenomena involved in playing, you can save yourself lots of setbacks, frustration and even injury.

Question things-If you study the laws of nature and acquire a good foundation in understanding your body and basic acoustical principles, you’ll be in a good position to question things. Place even the best intended advice (always respectfully, of course) under the scrutiny of the laws of nature. Also, question your own beliefs. Make sure you understand why you proceed the way you do.

Allow yourself to feel wrong-It’s very likely that when you change something for the better it will feel wrong (that’s not always the case). Again, compare what you are doing with what you understand about the laws of nature. If you are fairly certain that a new way to do something on your instrument is better, more efficient and effective, follow your intellect. If you stick with your decision to change, eventually the right thing will feel right (more important, the wrong thing will feel wrong).

Consider getting help from a good teacher-The Alexander Technique is an especially practical way of addressing your habitual patterns of tension and inefficient movement. You don’t need to find a teacher who plays your instrument, nor do you need to find a teacher who is a musician. You can read about the best saxophone lesson I’ve ever taken to find out more about my specific experience in learning from a non-saxophonist. If you don’t have access to a certified Alexander Technique teacher, find another well-respected expert to help you (perhaps another musician). Just seek out a person who is teaching in accordance with the principles of nature, and not in accordance with their own habits and beliefs.

Stay with these principles and you’ll find that your continued progress and growth will be supported by the confidence that your idea of right, just might be right after all.

Be Wary Of Good Advice

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One of the biggest challenges that arise when I teach the Alexander Technique to musicians is to get them to consider ideas about playing their instrument that seem to be contrary to what they believe to be absolutely true. Some of these ideas were imparted to them by well-meaning teachers.

Unfortunately, a certain amount of those ideas are adding to (or causing!) the problem that motivated the student to seek my help in the first place.

I try never to directly contradict the advice that they’ve taken from their teachers. Rather, I aim at helping them have a different kinesthetic experience by not following that advice. (I of course am using my hands and words to direct them into a more efficient, natural use of themselves. This helps significantly.)

After they’ve experience this different, seemingly new way to play, I usually tell them something something like this: “So now you have a chance to go home and experiment. You can do it the way you’ve been doing it, or try it this other way. Then you can choose which you prefer, which way seems to help you the most.”

And that’s pretty much it. Far more often than not, the student chooses this newer, clearly less strenuous way to play. But it’s the student’s choice, not my insistent command.

For us as musicians, it’s natural to seek out advice from someone who has already solved the problems of playing our instrument that we still struggle with. And to be clear, most of the advice that master musicians give their students regarding pedagogy is immensely helpful, often saving the student years of misunderstanding and frustration.

But you always have to come back to this one question when taking advice from a great instrumentalist: Is this musician playing well because of what he or she is doing, or despite what he or she is doing? (I ask my regular visitors here to forgive me for raising this question so often, but it really is fundamental.)

For example, you can play saxophone quite well if you curl your toes and grip the floor with vise-like effort. But this doesn’t help you play well. It doesn’t help you produce your sound. It’s not necessary at all to playing the saxophone. (In fact it actually interferes with your ability to play your best.) It’s a simple matter of the principle of cause and effect. Curling your toes is an effect of your habit, not a cause of your good sound.

But if you believe that you need to do that to play well, it’s likely you’ll pass that advice on to one of your students as gospel truth. And this is often how bad advice is passed on from teacher to student.

Here are three guidelines you can follow when given advice about playing your instrument (from me or anyone else) to help you make better decisions for yourself:

1. Does it make sense with the laws of nature? Part of my job when I teach is to help my student better understand the music making process with respect to their bodily structures, and basic principles of physical science (mechanics, gravity, acoustics). I want them to have a clearer and more accurate body map, and want them to understand how their overall general coordination affects the specific coordination of playing music. I also want them to understand what it takes to produce sound on their instrument from an acoustic point of view, then always ask themselves if, or how, their habits might be affecting the production of sound. Again, the “because of/despite of” question. So many myths of pedagogy can be dispelled by simply cracking a book on human anatomy, or reading up on the acoustical princples of your instrument.

2. Does it mostly involve adding, or subtracting strain? This is an important question to ask, especially if you feel pain or fatigue after carrying out the advice you’ve been given. I’ve never yet taught a student who wasn’t creating enough muscular effort to play. In fact, it’s usually a matter of getting them to stop working in such a strenuous, misdirected way. So when advice has lots “doing” words, as in, “pull your shoulders down”, “grip the floor with your feet to ground yourself”, “push from your diaphragm”, “tuck your chin in”, etc., go back to asking if, and how, these kinds of things work with respect to the laws of nature. Many times, well-meaning teachers are describing the perceived effect of what good playing looks like, as opposed to the bigger picture of what the cause of that visible bodily change is. For example, as a saxophonist, if I let my neck release my head into an upward balance off the top of my spine, my chin will appear to move inward toward my throat. But here’s the thing: muscular release is what is causing the change. That’s something entirely different than me trying to tuck my chin in toward my throat (muscular tension). Generally speaking in my experience, the more the pedagogical advice has to do with release and expansion (as opposed to added effort and contraction) the more effective the result.

3. Do you clearly understand the advice in the same way the advice giver does? This is quite often where things start to go wrong. I’ve many times encountered students who are not understanding and carrying out the advice the way the teacher understands it and carries it out. This has to do with the limits of language. I often find myself saying to my students as I teach, “You’ve just done what I’ve asked you to do, but it’s not what I want you to do. So, let’s see if I can ask again in a different way.” There’s no such thing as one ideal way of expressing your own movement experiences so that another person will experience them in the same way you do. This is where the art of teaching becomes fundamental. If you get advice and it seems to defy the laws of nature, and/or mostly involves more muscular effort, make really sure (in the most respectful way) that you ask your teacher to help you better understand.

And on that note…of course, any time you take a lesson or seek advice from someone, proceed with the utmost respect. Never argue. Simply ask genuine questions until you understand. But ultimately, you have to decide for yourself if the advice given is helpful or not to you, no matter what anyone says. It’s your choice.

Practice Paying Attention To Yourself To Improve Your Performance

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It’s not unusual for musicians new to the study of the Alexander Technique to be a little bit wary of the idea of being more intentionally aware in order to change their habits when playing music.

He or she can be put off by the idea that paying attention in this new “Alexander” way (awareness, prevention of habit, and redirection of thought) will become a distraction that interferes with the music making process.

This is a valid concern (one in which I had at the beginning of my Alexander learning process). After all, what you want as a musician is freedom to express yourself, not a seemingly oppressive form of self-consciousness. You don’t need yet another “mental ball” to juggle.

For you to perform well as a musician, you already must be aware of many things simultaneously. Here are but a few:
• Your intonation
• The intonation of those with whom you’re playing
• Time and rhythm
• Notation (where applicable), including dynamics, articulation, form, etc.
• The quality of your sound, and/or attack
• The blend of your sound in the ensemble
• The conductor (where applicable)
• Your personal emotional expression

I could go on. The point is, you have to be aware of quite a few things. But understand that all these things are integrated together in your consciousness as the whole “experience of playing music”. (It is when you’re playing well, anyhow.)

But conspicuously missing from the above list is one of the most important things to pay attention to: How you are using yourself. More specifically, what you are doing with yourself in order to create music.

If you shift immediately to placing all your attention on yourself as you play, you’ll very likely play worse, feel awkward, self-conscious, and in general, disconnected to the music making process.

The idea is not to divide your attention by paying attention to yourself as you play, but rather, to gradually learn to integrate your self-awareness by expanding your consciousness.

Think about it. You’ve already developed your ability to keep many things in mind as you play (again, as an integrated whole). It’s therefore possible that you can learn to place an increased self-awareness into this whole. In my experience, I’ve found that self-awareness becomes the central organizing principle that helps me to be easily aware of everything else as I play.

In other words, self-awareness is the thing that integrates everything else (intonation, time, form, notation, etc.) into a clearer, whole musical experience. You need to include yourself into your attention if you are to play efficiently, expressively and safely (avoiding injury). And if you wish to improve, this is fundamental.

So how do you develop this ability to be more self-aware as you play music? Simple, you practice.

Here are some simple guidelines and suggestions for practicing paying attention:
• Devote 15 minutes per practice period to deal exclusively with improving your self-awareness. After that, go on to practicing whatever and however you like. By devoting your time to this on a daily basis, you shift your emphasis on “sounding good”, or “practicing something useful” to allowing yourself to pay attention to your use as you play.
• Pay attention first to how you pick up your instrument. Do you tense up (stop breathing, pick up your shoulders, stiffen your neck/jaw, etc)? You might be surprised to learn that you’re already indulging in your habitual playing tension before you even get the instrument into position. Any unnecessary tension you notice as you do this, you can make a conscious decision to prevent.
• Notice how you’re sitting or standing as you play. Do you find your sitting (or standing) balance first, before you pick or approach your instrument? Or do you find yourself coming down and forward toward your instrument as you “clamp down” to play? It’s important to find an easy balance first, before you bring the instrument to you.
• Notice what you do as you create sound on your instrument. Are you stiffening your neck? Are you lifting your shoulder(s) unnecessarily? Are you pulling yourself downward, maybe twisting through your spine to do so? Are you locking your knees? Are you holding your breath? Are you making a huge, noisy, tense inhalation to prepare to play?
• Notice what you do as you begin to connect notes. Do you lose your ease and balance? Do you begin to stiffen your neck and shoulders? Hold your breath? Stiffen your fingers and hands?

Anytime you notice yourself going into your habitual patterns of unnecessary tension in your 15-minute “awareness” period, you simply stop what you’re doing (even if it means to stop playing completely!) Every time you stop yourself from creating this tension as you play, you accomplish two important things:

First, you weaken the response from your brain that creates the pattern. If you do this over time, you gradually reduce the pattern to the point of elimination (it stops becoming your habit).

Second, you strengthen your skills in self-awareness. Your capacity to pay attention becomes more and more refined. The best thing about this is that after a while, you don’t have to make an effort to “look” at yourself to become self-aware. Rather, the awareness of what you do with yourself as you make music comes to your attention on its own.

In a sense, this is what has already happened to you with your sense of pitch. If you’re playing out of tune (or if the person next to you is), you probably don’t have any problem hearing it. In fact, it’s harder to ignore it than it is to hear it. This happens because your capacity to discern pitch has been highly refined. Through practice.

And so it is with your self-awareness. If you practice this way, you’ll get to the point where you’re old habits of bodily tension will become just as hard to ignore as the musician sitting next to you who is playing painfully sharp or flat.

So give yourself the chance to develop this very important skill. You’ll find nothing but growth and improvement if you do. In one sense, this is the chief aim of the Alexander Technique. Lessons in the Technique can help you discover an effortless way to integrate all the components of music making into a smooth running whole. (Your practicing and your performing will never be the same!)

Using Your Body To Play Music: Integrate Instead Of Isolate

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One of the common traps that many musicians fall into is in thinking that one part of their body is almost entirely responsible for their sound: If it’s a flutist, it’s the lips. If it’s a violinist, its the hands. If it’s a singer, it’s the vocal mechanisms, and so forth. But in reality, this is never the case, and thinking about it as such can actually interfere with optimum performance.

True, if you’re a violinist, the music ultimately comes through your hands. If you aren’t using your hands well, you’re probably not going to have your best results.

But your hands are dependent upon your arms , which are dependent upon your back, which is conditioned by how you manage the relationship of your head and neck. And of course if you’re standing, your legs support your back, which supports your arms, which supports your hands.

This doesn’t even take into account how your eyes and ears influence all this.

When musicians come to me for Alexander Technique lessons, I typically see this over emphasis on one part of their body. Even before the first lesson, when we speak by phone, I often hear things like, “I’m having problems with the fingers of my right hand”, or, “I’m having jaw problems. My embouchure just seems stuck.”

And for sure, these musicians have identified the symptoms of a problem. But what they’ve really done is noticed the manifestation of a bigger problem: The coordination of their entire body is off kilter. They just haven’t realized that yet, and still think their problem is in this one, isolated part of their body.

Yet ironically, it’s this over emphasis and hyper awareness that is causing the problems. These musicians have effectively divided themselves into isolated, seemingly unrelated parts. All at the expense of excluding the whole of their bodies from the entire music making process.

In my own case it was the same thing. I took Alexander lessons because I had a serious problem with the functioning of my left hand, making playing the saxophone nearly impossible. When I came to my first lesson, my teacher listened very attentively and openly about my problem. She then begin to work with my head, neck and back.

Wait a minute! There’s nothing wrong with my head, neck and back (so I thought). The problem is with my left hand!

Well, fortunately for me, in that first lesson my teacher was able to show me (through the experience of movement) that my left hand problem was the end-result of the poorly coordinated use of my head, neck and back. As my head/neck/back relationship started to improve, the good functioning of my left hand began to return.

As the lessons continued, I grew to discover and understand how my legs, feet, eyes, hips…everything, was involved not only in how I used my left hand, but also, how I produced my sound, how I heard pitch, and even, how I imagined music and improvised.

Here’s a succinct and elegant description of this topic by Pedro de Alcantara, from his recently published book, Integrated Practice-Coordination, Rhythm and Sound:

” A violinist who plays a trill using two fingers of her left hand is, in fact, using both hands, both arms, both shoulders, and her head, neck, back and legs at the same time. If she doesn’t direct her back and legs to support her upper body, she’ll compensate unconsciously by stiffening her neck and shoulders, thereby affecting the fingers of her left hand. If she doesn’t command her right arm to bow smoothly and steadily, her left hand will lose some of its own stability. If she sways here pelvis forward and backward, she’ll hollow her lower back and shorten hers spine. Directly or indirectly, all these misuses will affect her trill.”

There’s just no getting around this truth.

So examine your own thinking about how you play your instrument (voice is an instrument, too!) Is there a connection in your thinking to all the parts, or does the “main” part live in isolation?

Whatever that “main” part is (hands, mouth, etc.) see if you can trace it back to its most immediate connection.Then trace that back to its connection, and so on. For example, if it’s your mouth, see how your lips work with respect to your jaw; then see how your jaw works with respect to your neck (and to how you balance your head on your spine); then notice how your head and neck work with respect to your back. All the way to your limbs, and even your eyes and ears.

You might find that there is some unnecessary tension in one or more of these connections. When you start letting go of these habitual tensions, you’ll indirectly improve the use of the main part, be it your lips, hands, feet…whatever.

So the aim here is to view your body as an integrated whole, not as a bunch of isolated parts. As you move toward integration of these parts into a unified whole, with a clear intention, you’ll make music in an easier, freer and more expressive way.

Think Expansively To Play Better Music

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As both a performing artist and an Alexander Technique teacher, I tend to observe the physical manifestations of a musician’s performance with one simple inquiry: “Is this person mostly expanding or mostly contracting as she or he makes music?” In essence, I’m looking for whether or not she or he is primarily gaining or losing stature while playing.

To be clear, you’re always contracting muscles to play music. You have to. And even when you’re “expanding” your stature there is still muscular contraction (along with a lot of release) going on. The real question is: What are you mostly doing with yourself as you play music?

A simple way to begin to address this question is to notice yourself in reasonably neutral, easy balance (not playing your instrument), then see what happens the instant you go play. Whether sitting or standing as you begin to play one of two things will happen: Either you “bear down” as you play, pulling yourself downwards and inwards; or you release yourself upwards and outwards. You tend toward either contraction, or expansion.

Noticing this in yourself can sometimes be difficult, as you are very used to whatever it is that you do habitually to play music. Even observing it in others can be an exercise in the observation of subtlety.

With some performers, it’s very easy to see when they pull down and contract, creating a good deal of pre-anticipated effort and strain. Perhaps you even notice this in some of your music students. (Perhaps you even notice it in yourself.)

When performers move with expansion, it often goes unnoticed. It’s as if they are really doing nothing at all, just leaving themselves alone as they play. And in reality, that’s precisely what’s happening. You see, you naturally move toward expansion if you don’t interfere and just let it happen. It’s how your neuromuscular systems is wired. You expand as you oppose the forces of gravity.

And what generally accompanies this physically expansive tendency is freely expressive, dynamic music.

The truth of the matter is that many great performers are actually going back and forth between contraction to expansion. In a sense, this mirrors the movement of breath. Inhalation and exhalation. It’s also a metaphor for artistic expression. Tension and release.

The really great performers ride this tension/release cycle from the music, and from within themselves. But mostly they default to release and expansion. That’s the baseline.

Other performers tend to default mostly toward tension and contraction. That’s their baseline. Usually (but certainly not always) this manifests itself as over-efforted, sometimes awkward and inconsistent musical expression.

So notice what you do with yourself as you play. Do you mostly expand or mostly contract? Here are some guidelines to consider in the form of questions you can ask yourself:

Am I pulling myself downward and inward as I begin to play? If you are, just think about releasing upward and outward instead. As counterintuitive as this might seem, it makes perfect physiological sense. A boxer, for example, knows that the power of the punch comes from the whole body expanding upward and outward, creating greater leverage and velocity.

What am I doing with my head and neck? Again, are you stiffening your neck and pulling your head downward, or leaving your neck alone and letting your head release upward? When you stiffen your neck you begin to interfere with the entire process of expansion.

What am I doing with my shoulders? Are you picking them up toward your ears, or are you leaving them alone? Are you letting your arms release away from your body? Letting your hands release from your back and arms?

What am I doing with my lower back? Are you arching or otherwise straining your back as you begin to play? Let your back and pelvis stay neutral.

What am I doing in my legs and feet? Are you locking your knees by throwing them backward? If so, let yourself release your knees as your weight moves slightly back toward your heels. Let your feet expand onto the floor (Don’t curl your toes!)

How is my breathing? Are you gasping noisily to inhale? If you are, see if you can notice how this affects your entire stature (contraction or expansion?) Keeping your breathing easy and quiet can work wonders for maintaining your stature, ease and balance.

Watch this video of the great violinist, Jascha Heifetz, as he plays Hungarian Dance #7 by Brahms. What’s noteworthy here is what he is not doing: He’s not pulling his head down. He’s not narrowing his shoulders. He’s not pulling his arms in toward his body (notice how free his arms and hands are!) And so forth. What you see instead is expansive, expressive easy music making. He is clearly working in cooperation with his physical design. Enjoy!