This morning I read an excellent blog article by Gerald Klickstein (author of The Musician’s Way: A Guide to Practice, Performance, and Wellness) about a skill that musicians too often neglect: “the ability to sense musical gestures before performing them.” He calls this ability, appropriately enough, “feeling ahead.”
Near the beginning of the article Mr. Klickstein offers this quote by violinist and teacher, Ivan Galamian:
“The mind always has to anticipate the physical action that is to be taken and then to send the command for its execution.”
F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique) would probably describe this phenomenon as conscious direction. Specifically, that your thoughts shape and anticipate your actions. To play music well, your direction has to be clear and always present.
Without this kind of direction, your risk serious inconsistencies in your performances. To paraphrase from Mr. Klickstein,”You must be able to perceive each musical expression as a physical sensation before you play it.”
I couldn’t agree more. And I’d add that as you progress as a musician, that your ability to “feel ahead” improves as well. Specifically, your anticipation of gesture changes.
But there’s a possible down side to this: What if the physical sensations you are imagining before you play a phrase or idea are habitually tense, and actually counterproductive to the process of playing the phrase or idea? Is it possible that your conscious direction is inaccurate? That your “thinking ahead” is sometimes causing you more trouble than you might be aware of?
Whether you like it or not, nearly all your musical gestures are tied into your habits. So to reframe what Ivan Galamian said above, your mind will anticipate the physical action that is to be taken and then send the command for its execution, for better or for worse.
Because of this, it’s a good idea for you to make a lifelong study of your habits and gestures as they pertain to making music. To do this you must learn to discern what you’re actually doing (as opposed to what you think you’re doing) and place it into context within the following questions:
- Does all the tension I create in myself as I play support my musical aims (acoustically, artistically,expressively or otherwise)?
- When I make music, am I using myself in such a way that is in accordance with my physical structure, and how my physical structure works in relation to gravity?
- Are my movements and gestures spontaneous or are they habitual?
Some of your habitual tension is not at all necessary to good music making. But because it is, well, habitual, it probably doesn’t feel wrong to you. This is where careful self-observation (and a good Alexander Technique teacher!) can help tremendously.
Alexander described the phenomenon of responding with gestures that are counterproductive to the desired intention as end-gaining. When you end-gain, you are following the stereotyped response patterns that are ingrained and perpetuated by your habits.
It’s interesting for me to watch videos of musicians performing on YouTube. Sometimes I’ll watch only the video, with the sound muted, 6 or 7 times before I actually listen to the performance.
I do this as a study of movement as it relates to expression. As I watch I start seeing certain “gestures of expression” over and over with some artists. Usually I can categorize these into 4 or 5 specific patterns of unnecessary tension.
When I turn the sound up what I typically see is that each physical gesture by the performer precedes (by only a split second) each actual artistic expression. It’s as if the performer’s physical gestures are dictating (or at least greatly limiting) the expression.
I rarely see this with great musicians. With the greats, I usually notice the opposite: the gesture seems to follow the expression.
So notice what you do as you perform. Are your performance gestures the same in practice as in concert performance? In a recording session? Are your gestures spontaneous?
Always remember that you have choices, and that when you give yourself true choices, you can (to quote Mr. Klickstein once more) let your “imagination run free.”