Category Archives: Alexander Technique and Music

Staying In Touch With Your Reasoning

This morning I gave an Alexander Technique lesson to one of my most dedicated students, a professional guitarist who’s been taking weekly lessons from me for over a year and a half. During his lesson I was reminded of one of the ultimate benefits of long term study of the Technique: You cultivate the skill and confidence necessary to solve your own problems.

You do so by learning to analyze the needs of a particular musical task, discerning what you’re actually doing (as opposed to what you believe you’re doing), and deciding if what you’re doing is best for the task, or not.

Then you’re modifying your thinking, reorganizing your efforts in such a way so that what you’re doing gives you the best chance of success in achieving your goal. This more often than not primarily involves subtracting the habitual (unconscious) patterns of tension that interfere with your natural coordination. It rarely (if ever) involves adding something to what you already do.

When you learn to work this way, all the inconsistencies of practicing and performing music become less mysterious, less daunting. As my student said this morning:

“If something is not going well as I play (that normally goes well), I stop and think about what in my thinking has changed to make the outcome of my playing change. Before, I used to get discouraged, believing that things just go bad for no particular reason. Now I realize that if things aren’t going well, it’s because the conditions in myself that encourage things to go well have changed. And I trace that right back to my thinking. I improve the conditions by changing my thinking, then things go back to running smoothly. I don’t go back into panic mode anymore. All I have to do is to remind myself to stay in touch with my reasoning.”

I love that last sentence, especially his words, stay in touch with my reasoning.

F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique), in his book Man’s Supreme Inheritance, wrote that when most people face the unknown in a fearful way, they become “absolutely out of communication with their reason.” When this is the case, he found, the chances become slim that they’ll be able to help themselves, as they are guided by unconscious habit and fear.

Much of what Alexander advocated in his work was staying in touch with the ability to reason, to discern, to make true choices (based upon what can be discerned, and what is possible), not to be exclusively guided by habit. He talked a lot about being able to “step into the unknown”, not only as a way to learn to change your habits, but also, as a way to continuously grow and develop as a conscious human being.

The really great thing about the Alexander Technique is that it is just that: a practical technique that teaches you how to reliably change and improve what you do.

When my student started with me, his thinking was all over the place. He’d tried numerous things to solve some of his technical challenges as a guitarist, most often with inconsistent (or worse) results.

As he put it, “I was always looking for the magic bullet, that one thing that was going to make everything work perfectly. Maybe it was a new hand position, or maybe it was some new form of concentrating on one part of myself, like my fingers. But what I’ve come to know is that there is no magic bullet. As I bring too much attention to one thing, something else always suffers.”

So what has he learned by taking Alexander Technique lessons with me? He’s learned how to notice his habits in relation to the natural coordination that is already established within himself.

In the lessons (through hands on guidance, visual demonstration and verbal explanation) he’s learned how to discern and judge what this natural coordination is. He’s been able to create a set of criteria to act as a sort of lens as he observes himself. When things go wrong, it always comes back to the fact that he’s doing something he needs to stop doing. (Yes, stop doing.)

And most important, he’s learned a reliable way to say no to these habits of tension that interfere with his optimum performance.

This doesn’t mean that everything’s perfect. In the realm of human experience (and especially with musicians and other artists), nothing is perfect. But, it has given him a reliable way to improve. It’s taken him out of the guessing, the trial and error, the frustration, the mystery. It’s put him back in touch with his reason. And that has helped him improve considerably.

If you find yourself becoming frustrated, beguiled and stuck in your improvement, it might help you, too.

Playing Saxophone: The Alexander Technique (And More)

Being that I’m both a professional saxophonist and a certified teacher of the Alexander Technique, my fellow saxophonists often ask me about how the Technique applies to playing their instrument.

This is actually a topic for a book that I’ve yet to write (though I have been sketching some ideas out and documenting and organizing my thoughts about it for some time now).

When playing saxophone, a moment doesn’t go by without me thinking about and applying the Alexander principles. I literally wouldn’t be able to enjoy a performing career these days without using what I’ve learned.

The Alexander Technique has not only helped me address certain physical problems I was having as a saxophonist, but also, has given me a failsafe method for improving the efficiency of how I practice saxophone (even how I approach improvisation). By looking through the lens of the Alexander principles, I’m able to gain a clear idea of why something works, or why it doesn’t.

Some time back, I was asked by Doron Orenstein, the Webmaster of the highly popular Best.Saxophone.Website.Ever, to participate in a multimedia educational product he was developing for saxophonists. When he told me who the other contributors were, I felt honored to be asked, to say the least.

I would be in some heavy company in this project, contributing my knowledge and experience alongside that of such saxophone superstars as Walt Weiskopf and Rick Margitza, et.al.

The product is called Bulletproof Saxophone Playing, and I’m very pleased with how it turned out. The format is essentially a series of interviews (eBook and audio format) with six different (and highly diverse) saxophonists about such things as technique, tone production, breathing (I had lots to say about this!), articulation, embouchure (both the external and internal embouchure), equipment, practice routines, trouble shooting, and so much more.

Besides having a fine panel of experts, what makes the whole thing really practical is that the interviewer (Doron) asks such thoughtful, essential and insightful questions. He also does something many interviewers don’t do: He actually listens with genuine curiosity and interest to his subject.

In interviewing me, Doron covers what I consider to be some of the most fundamental points about how the Alexander Technique can help improve your saxophone playing: recognizing postural and movement habits; the importance of head/neck balance (and how the jaw and tongue  need to be free to work together); and how breathing actually works (in contrast to all the mythology passed on from teacher to student about this crucial subject).

And of course, the input from the other contributors is great. I’ve learned lots from exploring the ideas and suggestions of the five other saxophonists.

I virtually never address saxophone issues here on my blog, as I aim at finding ways to help musicians in general, and improvising musicians in particular. Yet all of my teaching, whether saxophone pedagogy, improvisation, or practice coaching, is always done through the principles of natural coordination that are the cornerstone of the Alexander Technique.

So I’m pleased to be able to offer some of my saxophone-specific thoughts for those saxophonists curious about the Technique. And the fact that I’m in the company of giants, makes me recommend Bulletproof Saxophone Playing with great enthusiasm. Click on the banner below to learn more.

Play Saxophone Like a Pro

The Most Fundamental Skill You Develop When You Practice

There are so many reasons why the study of music is valuable (outside of simply learning to play better). When you practice, you are cultivating a multitude of useful skills: self-discipline, creativity, mathematical ability, aural imagination, and fine motor skills, to name but a few. You’re working “both sides of the brain”, so to speak.

But I think the most essential skill you develop when you practice is this: being able to expand your attention. Specifically, being able to constructively integrate and utilize multiple thoughts and bits of information simultaneously.

This skill not only helps you with many other things in life (part of this involves something called working memory, an important component of skilled learning), but also is absolutely essential in helping you improve as a musician.

I think it is (or should be) one of the primary aims of practicing music. In many ways, it sums up the greatest challenge of playing music with consistently good results: integrating body awareness, artistic intention, time, and aural perception (as well as any other necessary information) into one whole musical experience.

Stop for moment and think of all the things a symphonic musician (as an example) has to be aware of to perform well during a concert: The response, sound and pitch of her/his instrument; articulation; dynamics; the conductor; the notes on the page; breathing (especially for wind instrumentalists). And of course, a constant awareness of the pitch, articulation, dynamics, etc. of the other musicians. Not to mention things like artistic choice and expression.

Yet all this comes together seamlessly for the skilled performer as one thing, really. Just playing music. This is achieved through the discipline and experience of well-directed practice.

There is often an imbalance in this skill, however, with many musicians. Simply put, there is a disintegration of information: too much attention to one aspect of playing at the expense of not enough attention to others.

Perhaps trying too hard to hear pitch or tone color. Maybe too much emphasis on what the hands and fingers are doing (or the embouchure). And of course, too much attention placed on the notes themselves.

When this happens, the most crucial component of the musical process too often gets neglected: You. What are you doing with yourself as you play music?

Are you tensing your shoulders? Locking your knees? Clenching your jaw? Arching your back? Stiffening your wrists and fingers? Holding your breath?

How might these kinds of tension interfere with your ability to perform at your fullest potential?

Of course, you might find that the moment you bring all your attention to what you’re doing with yourself, you lose connection with the music. Maybe you even play worse. This is simply because you have not had enough experience putting this into practice. If you start learning to pay attention to yourself as you practice, you’ll start to reap great rewards.

One of my most dedicated Alexander Technique  students (a professional guitarist) would tell you the same. Each week during his lesson with me, we are working on his ability to expand his attention. He now easily and readily becomes aware of what he’s doing with himself as he plays, and direct his thoughts and energy quite effectively into the music making process.

I’ll ask him as he’s working very well on a difficult musical passage, “What are you thinking as you play this?” He’ll answer something like, “I’m thinking of my shoulders and neck releasing as I imagine the rhythms at this tempo, reminding myself to wait for each phrase and really hear my sound.” It’s not difficult for him to keep these thoughts going as he plays. But that has come after considerable practice.

The same with me. This morning as I was practicing saxophone, I found myself thinking about releasing my shoulder girdle (the area around the collar bones and shoulder blades) as well as my wrists softening, as I listened to the metronome while displacing an eight-note pattern by a half beat every other measure. All the time directing the flow of air into the mouthpiece and reed, and aiming for a dark, round sound (and really hearing it, too).

Even when I practice improvising, I’m able to keep this expanded thinking available. It is not a distraction to my creative impulses. On the contrary, it tends to free me, keeping me both calm and alert at the same time. Truly ready for the experience of creating music.

I realize in my own practice, that as I get better, I do so largely because I’m able to integrate multiple thoughts into one whole. The foundation of this skill starts with learning how to pay attention to yourself first. Even in the most challenging performance situations, I’m able to keep my thinking clear. (Practice helps with this a lot!)

So where do your thoughts go as you practice? Do you focus in on one thing only, losing touch with other important things? Are you able to keep aware of yourself as you play, or is this just another distraction? Can you easily hear your sound? Is the time always clear in your perception? Can you play creatively and passionately as you listen to yourself accurately, perceiving pitch, tempo and tone color?

I encourage you to aim for broadening your attention as you practice. Improve your thinking, and you’ll improve your playing.

A Simple Tip To Help You Play Better At Fast Tempos

One of the things that too often goes hand in hand with playing at fast tempos is excessive bodily tension. This is not a requirement of the music.  Instead, it’s largely because of the habits, perceptions and attitudes of the performer. It doesn’t have to be like that.

One of the aims of the Alexander Technique is to learn to approach any activity with a minimal amount of misdirected effort. Ease, efficiency of movement, freedom, clarity, balance.

As an Alexander teacher and practice coach, I help my students become aware of and prevent the various movement and postural habits that interfere with this easier, more efficient way of playing music. This is mostly a matter of getting them to change how they pay attention  as they are playing.

Many of the problems of excess muscular tension musicians have begin with their thinking. Playing at fast tempos is a prime example.

One of the things that invites all this unwanted tension is something I call “micro-managing” the pulse. In essence, this means that you conceive the tempo as fast beats coming one after the other.

For example, in 4/4 time, at a tempo of quarter note = 262, the quarter note pulse moves by quite rapidly. If you try to feel each beat this way, it not only invites excess bodily tension (you might try to tap your foot like mad as you tighten the rest of your body), but also, it creates a feeling of urgency  that scrambles your thinking a bit. It makes you less open to the control and choices available to you. 

If you watch some of the great jazz masters playing at these fast tempos, you virtually never see them moving with the quarter note pulse this way. Why? Because they conceive of the pulse in a broader  sense.

This means that instead of trying to feel 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, etc. as the main pulse, they tend to feel it more as a broad 1…1…1…, etc. (each “1” being the beginning of the bar). Some feel it even more broadly than that, feeling the time as long phrases crossing bar lines.

This shift in time perception tends to do two helpful things for these masters:

  1. It helps them to maintain a helpful level of physical and cognitive ease, flexibility, responsiveness and balance that supports a great technique (sound, too!)
  2. It helps them imagine  and create  the music in an entirely different way, with many more rhythmic and phrasing possibilities as well as note choices. Instead of merely “making the tempo”, they’re actually expressing themselves with a great deal of clarity and choice.

So no matter what kind of music you play, you’ll play with less misdirected effort and more precision if you broaden your perception of the tempo. Here are some guidelines you can use to help you with this:

  • Stop relying so strongly upon your foot. Seriously. Learn to feel the time without doing that. If you watch great classical musicians playing at blistering tempos you don’t see that foot flapping around. Same with many of the jazz greats. It’s fine to move  with the music. But think of it as a lilting dance instead of a foot-stomping-neck-tightening lurch.
  • Start reducing the metronome click. Once you’ve got the basic idea of the piece under your fingers (or the harmonic form, if you’re a jazz player) stop setting the metronome on the quarter note. At the very least, set it to half notes, with the aim in mind of letting it click once at the beginning of each measure. So, for example, quarter note=260 becomes half note = 130, which then becomes whole note = 65. I rarely let my metronome go faster than about 80 bpm (that  would be feeling the pulse on the first beat of each measure at quarter note = 320!)
  • Think more broadly about rhythmic groupings. If you’re working on a fast eighth-note passage, for example, start thinking of this passage as slower sixteenth notes. Or even slower 32nd notes (yes, really!) Use your metronome.
  • Go from even to odd. If you’re working on a very symmetrical phrase, pattern, exercise, etc., consider modulating it metrically. This change in perception can really free you from your habitually tense anticipation of playing it. So, for example, if you’re working on a phrase that is grouped as sixteenth notes, try playing that same phrase thinking  of the notes as triplets, or even quintuplets (maintaining the same velocity of each note). Again, use the metronome for this.
  • Practice rhythmic displacement. This is another way to help you to think outside the box about tempo and rhythm. It has a similar benefit as the “even to odd”, I’ve mentioned above. Here’s an article on how to approach this.
  • Reconsider beats “2” and “4”  (for jazz playing). I know it is standard for many students of jazz to set the metronome to click on beats 2 and 4 (in 4/4 time) in order to help them feel  the backbeat. But once you’ve reached a place in your musical development where you’re swinging comfortably, consider setting the metronome to click only on the first beat of each measure (especially at faster tempos). Besides helping you to stay less tense, this will also significantly improve your sense of time (it can be a bit of a challenge at first).

So whether you’re playing jazz, working on an etude, or even sight reading, thinking of the beat in this broader way will help you to stay calm and free. Give it a try and let me know how it goes.

Are You Trying To Hear Your Sound By Creating Excess Tension?

The other day, as I was working with a new Alexander Technique student, I encountered (again) a fairly common habit that many musicians have that usually leads to trouble. Allow me to share.

My student is a singer who came to see me because of problems she’s been having with vocal strain and intonation. As she told me: “I seem to start out okay (actually, she sounds very good), but after about 5 to 10 minutes of singing my voice becomes strident, kind of thin, and my intonation gets difficult to control.” She sang for me for a few minutes and confirmed her own assessment.

It wasn’t hard for me to see how she was creating these problems for herself. As she’d start singing I’d see her stiffening her neck as she thrusted her face upward and forward. This pattern of tension manifested itself through her entire body: shoulders pulled back, lower back arched, knees locked, unyielding ankles and feet.

So I began to work with her with my hands to help her find an easier state of balance as she was standing (without singing).  She was very responsive to the directions I was giving, and was really beginning to release much of her habitual tension: freer neck, widening shoulders and back, neutral pelvis,  softening knees, flexible ankles. She said she felt like “a whole new person”. All good stuff.

In Alexander slang, I’d say she went from doing too much, to a nice state of non-doing (leaving herself alone, to allow for a natural, virtually effortless balance).

I explained to her that this  state of non-doing was a very good place from which to start singing. It was like starting with a blank canvas, and could help her see how much tension she was creating when she sang. So I asked her to sing.

She went immediately from a calm, pliable, free state, to one of immense tension (same pattern as before: head thrusted forward, narrow shoulders, etc.) I asked her if she could sense all that tension she created as she began to sing, and she replied (with a certain amount amazement) that she could:

“Wow! I had no idea I was doing so much in my entire body to try to sing. Working way too hard…”

So I asked her to sing again, but with the thought of not going into that tense pattern, of leaving herself alone. But as she sang again, there was little, if any difference. She’d go right into that tense pattern again.

(This isn’t uncommon when encountering performance habits. They can be quite stubborn. Yet if addressed effectively and consistently, they can be changed. That’s what the Alexander Technique is all about.)

As we proceeded to work more with her singing, my student suddenly came to a great realization: “You know, I think I’m making all this tension in myself as an attempt to hear my voice.”

And she is absolutely right.

You see, to her (and to so many musicians) the sound  is more than what the ear takes in. It can involve other senses (feeling resonance, for example), beliefs (often also about what should be felt), and other expectations.

In the case of my student, she was trying to feel the sound a specific way. She said that’s how she was gauging her intonation. Yet by her own admission, her intonation was dubious as she created this tension.

So we worked on getting her to change her thinking. We shifted the goal from trying to sing well, to leaving herself alone as she sang: no face thrusting, no shoulder raising, no back arching, no knee locking. The aim was not to sing in tune, or even with a good sound. Rather, it was to begin to sing without going into her habitual tension. It would be a bit of an experiment.

In fact, I told her that if she sounded bad, even worse than she’d ever sounded, that she could consider herself successful in this experiment, because it shows she did something differently. She liked that idea.

Well, after a few takes, she finally had a moment when she started to sing without her habits. I had my hands on her, and could tell that she was leaving herself alone very nicely. She continued to sing for about 5 minutes. Her voice was clear, beautiful, consistent…and her intonation was spot on.

She was thrilled, to say the least. “That was hard. I don’t know if I could do that again”, she said. I assured her she could, perhaps not consistently at first, but eventually she’d be able to with considerable consistency.

I asked her, “How was your intonation? Did you notice it?” She replied, ” Oh yes, I could her my pitch so clearly and easily. But the strange thing was, I wasn’t trying to hear my pitch. I could just hear it, and knew it was fine.”

I explained to her that it was this “trying” to hear her pitch that was tempting her to create so much bodily tension, and that this excess tension was interfering with her ability to truly hear herself. That seemed to make sense to her. I’m excited to meet with her for her next lesson to see what else she’ll discover.

As I stated above, so many musicians I teach are struggling with the same habit: trying to feel their sound, both color and pitch, through excess bodily tension. Besides being counterproductive to the goal of a good sound and good intonation, it also carries with it the risk of strain, injury, poor technique and fatigue.

But there’s also something that comes with it that is equally negative. All that tension leads to a kind of physical and artistic prison when making music. You can become so dependent upon feeling your tension that you’re not free to experience the possibility of the unknown, the possibility of discovering something new in yourself as you make music.

So how are you when you play? How much tension do you create as you get ready to play your first note? Remember to allow your neck to stay free so that your head can balance easily on top of your spine. Let your shoulders widen. Don’t lift your chest and arch your back. Don’t lock your knees. Let the weight of your body travel easily into your feet as you let your ankles remain free and mobile.

Leave yourself alone as you play, and you’ll hear yourself so much better. To paraphrase F.M. Alexander, “If you stop doing the wrong thing, the right thing will do itself.” My experience as a musician and as a teacher (and student!) of the Alexander Technique affirms this every day.