Category Archives: Alexander Technique and Music

Deepening Your Improvisational Expression By Slowing Down

Play Better While Standing By Following This Simple Principle

The other day as I was giving an Alexander Technique lesson to a saxophonist, I noticed something in my student that I often see in other musicians who stand as they play. Specifically, my student wasn’t allowing the weight of his body to pass through his feet into the floor as he played.

I could see him bringing his weight to the outsides of his soles as he played, stiffening his neck, back and legs as he did so. He did this especially as he perceived some kind of “effort”, such as playing into the altissimo register, or articulating a very rapid passage. Put simply, he was pulling himself out of balance in an attempt to play his best.

It was as if he were refusing to let himself be on the floor, trying to defy the laws of gravity as he played his instrument.

I won’t digress here as to how I approached his issues (that’s for another article), but I can tell you that for him to stop the habits of tension in his feet, he had to start with thinking about the stiffness in his head and neck as he played. (In Alexander terminology, the relationship between the head, neck and torso is called the primary control; it’s called so for a good reason, as it conditions what we do with the rest of ourselves in any activity.)

Instead, I want to talk a bit about a very simple principle to help you play better as you stand: For you to be in good balance as you stand (mobile, flexible, light and easy), you must allow the weight of your body to pass through your legs into your feet and into the ground (or floor, as the case may be).

To help you understand this principle, it might be helpful to explain a little about how your feet bear weight most efficiently. You can think of your foot as a three-legged stool. One of the “legs” being your heel, another leg at the base of where your big toe meets the rest of your foot, and the third leg being at the base of where your small toe meets your foot.

You can think of each of these “legs” as the most essential points of contact between you and the ground. Between each of these points an arch is formed. You actually have 3 arches in each foot: one between the base of your large toe and your heel; another between the base of your small toe and your heel; and a third between the base of your large toe and your small toe (see image above).

It is the dynamic relationship between these arches that help you stay in balance. Whenever you interfere with this relationship, you interfere with your balance, ease and coordination. The most common ways this interference occurs is by placing your weight too far forward, or by pulling your feet up off the floor from either side.

When you stand in natural balance, your head is poised on top of your spine in an upward release, and the rest of you is sort of stacked underneath all the way down to the ground. No tense shoulders. No thrusting hips. No locked knees. No stiff feet or toes.

The weight of your body is free to pass directly downward through your spine, into your pelvis, through your legs into your ankles and then very slightly into your heels (one of the legs of your “stool”) as you allow your feet to spread toward your large and small toes (the other legs of your stool).

When you allow yourself to stay grounded this way, you’ll find that you play better:

You’ll have more stability, so your hands, arms and fingers move more easily and accurately.
You’ll breathe better.
You’ll maintain a better sense of time. (Really! So much of your rhythmic perception is based upon your balance. Notice what happens to your balance the next time you rush the tempo.)
You’ll have greater access to your creativity and expression. (For the same reasons mentioned above.)
You’ll feel so much better and experience less fatigue as you play.

Whenever you can, play without shoes. Letting your feet connect directly to the floor helps you access all the receptors of the nerves in your feet to keep the delicate dance of balance alive. When I practice I never wear shoes. I advise all my students to lose the shoes whenever possible. (It’s okay to wear socks.)

So notice what you do with your feet as you practice. Remember to let your feet do their work. Allow your weight pass through them into the floor as you direct your thoughts upward. Please let me know how it goes!

Why It’s A Good Idea To Look For Trouble

4 Replies

“You are not here to do exercises, nor to learn to do something right, but to be able to meet a stimulus that always puts you in the wrong and to learn to deal with it.”

F.M. Alexander, founder of the Alexander Technique

The quote from above represents what I think to be the essential value of studying the Alexander Technique. I came to study this work because, as a saxophonist, I was not able to meet a stimulus that was putting me “in the wrong”. As a result, I had significant dysfunction in my hand s that had stopped me from making music.

Today, thanks to using what I’ve learned from the Technique, I’m playing better than ever (enjoying it more than ever, too!) I’ve also had a complete shift in how I approach the problems of playing music. This is something that has significantly aided me in helping the musicians who come to me for lessons.

Before I came to discover the Alexander Technique, I always struggled with consistency in playing the saxophone. If everything was “just right”, then I played very well…freely, expressively, openly, skillfully, joyfully…

But the problem was that often everything wasn’t just right: Not the ideal reed. Not the best acoustic environment. Not hearing my sound the way I’d like to. Not being completely okay with what the drummer was playing. Not liking the dynamics and intonation choices of the trumpet player. Not feeling the thing I think I needed to feel. Not loving every single note I played when I improvised. Not….well, you get the idea. I could find all kinds of things that put me in the wrong.

And when things were less than ideal, I would react differently to playing than when things were better. I’d pull myself into all kinds of distorted positions, amplifying effort, becoming rigid and self-conscoius, thoughts running rapidly through my head like a constant commentary on how I was doing. Lot’s of misdirected energy as I tried “even harder” to play well. Of course, none of this reactive effort did anything but make me play worse.

So to make a long story short, I had to learn to react differently to the thought of playing the saxophone in general, but particularly when conditions seemed less than perfect. And so I have learned to react differently (and am continuing to do so!)

It’s very easy to look outside of yourself and say why you couldn’t perform your best. Unfortunately, you can’t always control what’s outside of yourself. But you can, to a very large degree, learn to control how you respond to what’s outside of yourself.

One of the things I’m often looking for as I teach is how I can “lead my student into temptation.” I want to find the things that put this particular musician in the wrong, then teach her or him how to react differently. How to “deal with it” as Alexander would say.

When my students are doing particularly well during their lessons I jokingly tell them “Okay, that’s going great. Now let’s go look for some trouble.” We always manage to find something. Then my student has a chance to apply the principles that best address whatever the problem is.

Not only does this bring continuous improvement, but equally important, it cultivates confidence in their ability to help themselves. Thats huge. I proceed in the same way in my own musical practice.

So what puts you in the wrong as you play? Here are a few of the things in general that put many musicians in the wrong:

Tempo-whether very fast or challengingly slow.
The acoustic environment-dead, to live, noisy.
Tactile and kinesthetic sensations-things don’t “feel” like your use to them feeling.
Reaction to less than ideal conditions of your equipment.
Challenging registers of the instrument.
Challenging passages in the music.

Make a list of things that put you in the wrong. You can be as specific as you like. Once you’ve made your list, see if you can notice how you react when you encounter these challenging stimuli. Do you:

Stiffen up, particularly in your neck and shoulders? Your jaw? Perhaps your legs and feet as well?
Hold your breath or otherwise interfere with your breathing?
Feel hurried? Are your thoughts unclear and racing? Do you become hyper-critical? Where does your attention go?
Feel like you can’t hear yourself?
Feel angry? Frustrated? If so, how does that impact your breathing and body tension? (See above)

Once you become aware of your reactions, see if you can notice how these reactions negatively impact your ability to play your best. Then modify your thinking a bit to change things, to lesson the tension. If you shift your thought from “how am I doing?” to “what am I doing?” (from judgement to discernment), it can really begin to open some important doors to your self-improvement. This is where a skilled teacher can really be of help, showing you how to become better aware, and able to prevent these habitual reactions.

Playing music can be a joyful experience virtually all the time. Really. So don’t be afraid of trouble. Go looking for it, learn how to deal with it, and rediscover this joy.

An Essential Ingredient For Continued Growth And Improvement

2 Replies

To improve as a musician, you need discipline, drive, passion, commitment, persistence, a sense of humor, organizational skills, patience and more. But the thing that really fuels (really nourishes!) improvement is curiosity.

And Einstein was speaking from his own experience. His talent was his deep curiosity, and it was directed toward better understanding the physical nature of the world around him. That curiosity fueled his passion to make astounding discoveries about our universe.

To be curious means that you don’t know, but would like to know. It is a source of energy.

As musicians, we can be curious about a great many things that pertain to our music making: equipment, acoustical physics, pedagogical philosophy, musical theory, practice routines of accomplished musicians, and so forth.

But if you want to always grow as a musician, the most important thing for you to be curious about is yourself.

I teach the Alexander Technique to performing arts majors at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. Sometimes I’ll have a student come up to me at the end of the first day of class and ask, “What do I have to do to earn an “A” in this class?”

“All you have to do is remain curious about yourself”, is my answer. Of course I go on to explain more specifically what I mean by that. But my own experience has shown me, without fail, that it is the students who have a genuine curiosity in themselves that not only earn a good grade, but also, make lasting and sometimes profound improvements in how they perform and otherwise function.

To improve, you have to make changes in yourself. You can’t change until you are curious enough to start asking how and why you work the way you do. How and why.

In essence, this means to be curious about your entire self: your physical organism (especially as it relates to gravity), your thinking, and how your thinking affects the functioning of your physical organism.

It’s the same with my private Alexander students who are professional musicians. The ones who really progress rapidly with the work are the ones who are really curious about the how and the why of themselves. Part of my job is to help them to discover and cultivate this kind of curiosity.

I’m still amazed at the number of musicians who come to me for help that don’t have the slightest idea about how they’re body works in relation to playing their instrument. (For example, sometimes problems are immediately solved simply by showing the musician where her/his hip joints are, and how they work.)

I often run into musicians who know much more about their equipment than they do about their own bodies (not to mention how their thinking impacts the functioning of their bodies).

Yet ultimately it is your body and mind that is the vehicle for your self expression. When you perform with an inconsistent quality, it is you, not your chosen instrument, that is creating the inconsistency. As important as it is to understand the physical principles of what it takes to produce sound, deal with mechanical design of your instrument, etc. (and that is very important!), it is equally important that you understand your body’s role in working harmoniously with the acoustical and mechanical principles of your instrument. You’re either working with or agains these principles, depending on what you’re doing with yourself as you play.

I also encounter musicians who never really notice their own thinking. They are often unclear as to what the most helpful kind of thinking is. Sometimes they are trying way too hard to do something, bringing not only lots of muscular tension into the picture, but also, a kind of “being in a hurry” mentality that never lets them settle in and actually be present with music they’re playing.

I can often see their thinking by way of all their postural and movement habits: lots of compression and tension, lack of balance, sometimes even fear as they play.

By getting these musicians to observe their own thinking and linking that observation to what happens in their bodies as they play music, they begin to finally understand what leads to consistent performance. This is often when they remain curious about themselves for the rest of their lives. A fundament, profound change. Continuous improvement.

So here are two questions to ask yourself. Seeking the answer to these questions will keep you forever curious (and improving!):

“How does my body work most naturally and efficiently in the act of playing my instrument?”

To answer this question it would be helpful to understand some basic anatomy and physiology. You can find many free resources online for this. If you like books (as I do) , I’d recommend Anatomy of Movement By Blandine Calais-Germain. It’s loaded with illustrations and easily understood text. You’ll gain a great sense of how your musculoskeletal system works.

If you want to start with something even more basic, consider this excellent DVD, Move Well, Avoid Injury by Amy Likar and Barbara Conable. Based on the principles of body mapping, and the Alexander Technique, this has marvelous animated images and advice for giving you a much clearer understanding of how your body naturally works best. Everything from how to stand, sit, maintain balance, use your arms and hands, breathing and more is lucidly explained and demonstrated. Highly applicable to all activities, especially playing music.

And of course, a good teacher can help you with this. In the Alexander Technique you get hands on guidance to gain the experience kinesthetically of lighter, more efficient movement. You also gain clarification on your understanding of how your body functions best in relation to all activities. There is no end to this study. The more you understand, the deeper you understand, the better you’ll play.

“What makes the quality of my performance inconsistent?”

To answer this question you have to not only understand your body’s role in music making, but also, how your thinking impacts this. This is the essence of how the Alexander Technique can help you. By changing your thinking, you change what you do in your body as you play.

I encourage my students to notice their thinking, especially on “bad” and “good” days practicing or performing. They learn to notice what they are doing in their bodies that might be interfering with or (better supporting!) their playing. Then I get them to link that to their thinking. By constructively directing their thinking, they learn to get the best response in their bodies. Rather consistently.

If you need help finding a certified Alexander Technique teacher in your area visit the Website for the American Society for the Alexander Technique.

Whichever path you take, remember, you are the ultimate mystery. Place your curiosity there and ready yourself for continuous discoveries and growth.

Lester Young: Creativity Reflected In Bodily Gesture

6 Replies

Ah, Lester Young…one of the greatest improvisers in all of jazz. He helped open the door to what we call the “modern jazz” period by virtue of his more linear, spatially melodic approach to improvisation. Jazz saxophonists from Charlie Parker, to Stan Getz, to Lee Konitz, to Jimmy Giuffre, to Joe Henderson, to Mark Turner demonstrate a clear connection to his lineage.

When people describe Lester’s playing, they use words like “relaxed”, “floating”, “spacious”, “lyrical”, “light”. My friend, the poet and jazz writer Mark Weber, calls him “the master of time and space”. I couldn’t agree more.

He never seemed to be in a hurry whenever he played, no matter how fast the tempo. It was like we always waiting patiently for the muse to speak to him, to guide him forth.

So it should come as no surprise that all this was reflected in his physical gesture as he played. Click on this link to watch this performance from 1950:

Lester Young Quintet 1950

Lester is the picture of calm and dynamic stillness. His head is balanced on top of his spine, his shoulders, arms and back are wide and relaxed. He is sitting in easy, upright balance. Even his fingers seem to move ever so softly and lightly. He’s tapping his feet in time, but doing it with no strain. Sort of like dancing with the music.

And of course his solo is lovely. Even though this is from the period in his playing career that jazz critics consider to be outside of his “best years” as a performer, he is still swinging magnificently. Still floating with the time. Still moving lightly. Still waiting for it, instead of pushing it.

I can’t help but make the connection between his aesthetic approach and his bodily gesture.

This was the first video footage of Lester Young I’d ever seen. As he plays, he looks much like I’d imagined he would. No strain. No pulling himself out of balance. No jerky “expressive” gestures. Nothing unnecessary. He never wasted a single note when he improvised. He doesn’t seem to waste an ounce of energy as he plays. No big surprise that his time feel is always so wonderful.

Have you ever seen a performance where you get distracted (or even annoyed) by all the tense and unnecessary flailing that the performers bring to the music? So have I. It makes me wonder: Are they doing all this because they are freely expressing themselves as they play, or are they actually imprisoning themselves by their own habits of tension?

I know in my own experience that the more I “wait for it” the way Lester Young seems to, the more expansive and even surprising (to me, anyhow!) my creative expression becomes. My sense of time and rhythm deepens. My melodic instincts come to life. Stillness in gesture. Openness to the muse. No matter the tempo, dynamics, or complexity.

Much of this “waiting for it” is expressed in my own bodily gesture. I allow myself to stay free and balanced, calmly alert. I avoid tensing my neck and shoulder. I don’t push my pelvis forward. I don’t lock my knees. I don’t gasp in air loudly. Everything stays easy.

So notice yourself as you play. Do you have a completely different set of gestures as you perform compared to when you practice? Do you strain and flail as you pull yourself out of easy balance? Do you feel like you can’t find intensity without first creating tension in yourself?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, I invite you to see what it’s like when you leave yourself alone as you play. Much like Lester Young, you might find that intensity and excitement can be created and maintained with so little effort.