Category Archives: Alexander Technique and Music

My Main Objective When Practicing Something Difficult

Practice Strategies: Keeping the End in Mind in the Present Moment

I’ve had the good fortune of being able to teach the Alexander Technique to some very highly skilled and highly accomplished musicians, including various members of world-class orchestras and chamber ensembles, as well as some of Los Angeles’ finest studio musicians.

Though all of these artists are diverse and unique with the skills they possess, I can’t help but notice certain commonalities they seem to share. I’ve grown to believe that some of these traits are at least partly responsible for their success.

One of these common values has to do with practice strategies. More particularly, how their practice strategies relate to their musical vision and ultimately, their goals.

Here’s something one of my Alexander students (a highly accomplished brass instrumentalist) said about this topic:

“I knew from a fairly early age that I loved playing music and this was what I was going to do with my life. From that point on, I had a clear, very specific vision of the kind of musician I wanted to be. And it was from that point on that everything I practiced I chose specifically to bring me toward that vision. “

Think about that for a moment.

It sounds simple, and it is. Yet it has deep implications.

My student went on to say:

“It’s for that reason that I never practiced too many of those ‘seemingly generic fundamentals’ on a daily basis, which some of my fellow musicians were doing religiously. Sure, I worked on fundamental things like my sound, and technical challenges specific to my instrument. But even with these things it was always with two specific questions in mind:

“How does practicing this lead me to my particular, ultimate artistic goals?”

“What can I measurably accomplish (or at least aim to accomplish) when practicing this today?”

And if you ask him, that’s one of the key ingredients of his success.

When I consult as a practice coach, I often encounter musicians who are frustrated with their progress. A good deal of this frustration is because they don’t have the kind of clarity about practicing that my Alexander Technique student describes above.

Many of these musicians are spending a much too large percentage of their practice time on these “seemingly generic fundamentals”, with no specifically detailed end in mind.

(Now, to be clear here, I am very much a big fan of practicing the ‘fundamentals’. But without specificity, fundamentals turn into a proverbial “ocean” of misdirected energy.)

With some of these musicians, it seems to be an act of blind faith: “As long as I do this everyday, good things will magically happen in my musical progress.”

But it takes more than that:

“It takes the ability to stay present each moment with what you’re doing when you practice, always being vigilant that it is moving you toward your goals in a measurable, progressive manner”, to once again quote my Alexander student.

And this is the fundamental skill and strategy I help these musicians with.

As I ask them questions about their practice, I hear very little talk of certainty, direction and precision in what they choose to practice. Lots of ‘generic’ things, often more mechanical than artistically practical (such as running up and down scales in the same rhythmic patterns day after day, month after month).

They often can’t give me a compelling reason for why they do what they do, other than saying that it’s “fundamental”, and/or, that “so and so” (well-respected musician) “recommends doing it every day.”

There are two qualities missing in their practice strategies: Clear intention (their ultimate goals) and curiosity. The clearer you are about what you want as a musician, to more curious you become about what you need to do to get it.

So if you feel that you are drifting in this ‘ocean’, maybe it’s time to reassess what you’re doing, and redirect your efforts. Here are a few things to consider:

Be willing to change. It has to start here. To paraphrase Einstein, “No problem has ever been solved by the same consciousness that created it.” Get ready to do things differently, perhaps even uncomfortably so (at least at first).

Become clear about the kind of musician you wish to become. Have a vision. Dream big. It’s fine if this vision changes (likely that it will, a bit), but at least you have something to inform your practice and study efforts. Allow time to reflect upon this.

Ask yourself what specific skills you would need to realize your vision. Think about it for a good amount of time. Make a very detailed list.

Assess your current skills and current practice routine with respect to your list. What are you already doing that’s helping you reach your goals? What are you currently practicing that isn’t leading you toward those goals in a more specific way? (In other words, what can you eliminate from your daily practice routine?)

Develop a strategy. Set small, attainable goals. Break the big things down into smaller things. Be methodical, progressive and persistent.

Organize your efforts. Keep a practice journal. Use it daily, review it weekly. Keep a record of not only what you practice, but why. Include your thoughts and feelings about what you practiced. Make it an ongoing, dynamic dialogue with yourself.

Reassess frequently. Your practice journal will help you keep it real here. What’s working? What’s not? What do you need more of? Less of?

Constantly redirect your efforts. Not only on a weekly and/or monthly basis, but even within your practice day, and even within an exercise you’re practicing. Be present, clear and vigilant about your immediate goal and your ultimate goals.

Seek help where you need it. An experienced, skilled outside source can really be a huge benefit. If you’re getting frustrated, don’t know where to start, or are confused, find somebody who can help. (I’ve helped lots of musicians find their way!)

In my experience, envisioning, planning and reassessing are never a waste of time where practice is concerned. As my brother (a highly skilled woodworker) says, “It’s always better to measure twice and cut once.” Give yourself some time to reflect and to dream and to modify what you do. You’ll find a whole new level of meaning, inspiration and satisfaction in your daily practice.

Breathing: Avoid This Misconception About “Moving the Air”

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Whereas most of my blog posts are written with all instrumentalists in mind, this particular post is aimed exclusively towards wind instrumentalists and singers. It addresses a common misconception about how you manage the movement of the air on the exhalation as you play or sing.

The idea has to do with the concept of the “velocity” of the airstream.

As you know, you must use your respiratory mechanism in an extraordinary way when singing or playing a wind instrument. You are not simply breathing in a completely passive way. You are using your breath with an energetic purpose that serves both function (physiological and mechanical) and self-expression.

And of course, the “working part” of the breath cycle is the exhalation. In large part, this kind of management of the exhalation involves changing the velocity of the airstream.

Yet, what you do with yourself to manage those necessary changes in air speed can significantly impact not only your breathing, not only your sound, but also the coordination of your entire body and ultimately, your skill.

One of the ways that air is “sped up” is by “compressing” the airstream. (In short, everything else being equal, a narrower airstream means “faster air”.)

And there’s where the problems sometimes begin.

I once watched a video of a highly skilled, fairly well-known trumpet player talking about the importance of “compression” when using the airstream.

In fact, it was something that he encouraged his viewers to do consciously each time they began to play a note or a phrase.

Now, he was talking about doing something with the airstream, but it was interesting for me to see what he was doing with his whole self as he carried out the instructions he advocated.

His entire body went into a state of “compression”.

Specifically, his head was pulled down onto his spine, his ribs were pulled downward with great force toward his abdomen (which was actively involved in distorting his pelvis), and his shoulders became rigid and narrow. I couldn’t see his lower half, but I imagine that was affected as well.

In essence, as this very fine trumpet player compressed his airstream, he simultaneously compressed and shrunk himself. (For the record, I’m not here to criticize this musician, only to call into question some of his ideas. I’d say he plays very well, despite what he’s doing with himself.)

But here’s the truth:

For you to compress your airstream you don’t need to compress yourself.

Really. You don’t.

You certainly need to use a considerable amount of muscular energy to move the air, especially at high velocities.

But this muscular energy doesn’t need to involve shortening your three-dimensional stature.

Here’s why.

First, because of the way your ribs attach to and move with your spine, the natural, structural tendency of your spine is to lengthen on the exhalation.

It will do so, even with tremendous muscular energy, if you let it.

Second, by forcefully pulling your ribs downward into your abdomen, you are interfering with two things: The full excursion of the diaphragm and the full excursion of the ribs.

The movement of the ribs in concert with the diaphragm is essential to optimal breathing.

Third, by compressing your respiratory mechanism in this manner as you exhale, you signficantly impact the coordination of the following inhalation, again limiting the excursion of the ribs and diaphragm.

It is these reciprocal excursion patterns between the ribs and the diaphragm (and other parts of you, as well) that are essential to all breathing, both natural and task-specific.

So what to do instead?

Mostly, subtract a few things.

First, subtract a noisy, forced inhalation (which often carries with it a tense jaw). Instead, aim for a free, energetic and expansive reflexive inhalation.

Second, don’t pull your head down into your spine. If you need more muscular energy, direct it upwards, as you ride the wave of your naturally lengthening spine. Allow your neck and jaw to be supple and responsive.

Third, avoid pulling your ribs down forcefully on the exhalation. Imagine your ribs (including the muscles between them) as being in an active, but gentle state of opposition to your upward moving spine. As your ribs slowly descend, your spine gently lengthens, as you move the air into your instrument at the most optimal velocity.

Fourth, allow your abdominal muscles to respond to the needs of moving the airstream, as opposed to a preconceived set amount of tension. If you work with this idea a while, you’ll learn to trust that your intention with your sound (range, color, pitch, etc.) will inform your neuromuscular system to do the right thing with your abs (and all the other muscles involved in supporting your airstream and sound). This “response” I’m talking about will take place instantly, optimally and organically. Naturally, if you will.

In sum, aim towards separating the concept of air compression from bodily compression. To be clear, I’m not talking about using less muscular effort, so much as avoiding misdirected muscular effort.

Allow yourself to move freely and energetically (always aiming upward), with a three-dimensionally expanding organism. You might be surprised at how much easier and more efficiently you can “move your air” to create the sound you wish for. And as a bonus, you’ll avoid some of the patterns of misuse that often lead to fatigue and injury. Win/win.

Skill and Coordination (They’re Not Necessarily the Same Thing)

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One of the aims of the Alexander Technique is to improve coordination.

And I would say more specifically for musicians, the aim of the Technique is to improve the quality of overall coordination that you use to implement your music making skills.

A misapprehension that many musicians have is that skill and coordination are one and the same thing.

Though they are certainly closely related, they’re not exactly one and the same.

How so?

Allow me to clarify by offering my working definitions of the two terms.

Your skill is your ability to carry out your desired task (for our purposes, playing music). It is manifested in tangible, sonic results: pitch, time, articulation, tone color, technical control, expression, etc.

Your coordination is what you do with your entire self to carry out your skill. It is manifested in muscular effort, or more specifically, the quality of movement you apply to the task. (This includes balance, posture, breathing….everything you do!)

So it is possible to be a highly skilled musician (and yes, this does mean having highly cultivated fine motor coordination skills), yet have less than optimal overall, gross motor coordination.

You can witness this in many instances, if you take time to notice.

Some musicians make it look easy, don’t they?

Truth be told, for most of these musicians, it is easy. They typically appear effortless because their efforts are so singularly integrated into the skill of their performance. Virtually nothing they do interferes with their artistic intentions, with their desire of self-expression, nor with the acoustic and physiologic components involved in playing.

(I look upon classical pianist Artur Rubinstein as a glowing example: free neck, strong and flexible back and arms, moving easily, fluidly and naturally with the music. It is this beautiful, efficient coordination that is at the service of his skills.)

And I think we’ve all seen/heard virtuosic musicians who look like they’re fighting an imaginary foe as they play music: head compressed into the neck, raised (stiff) shoulders, rigid ribs and back, hard narrowed gaze, noisy breathing.

Yet they still deliver the goods. They still play devastatingly beautiful music. (No, I won’t point my finger at any one musician here, as a gesture of respect. But I so easily could!)

So should these musicians even bother with improving their overall coordination? Should you?

Yes. And for three main reasons:

1. Your overall coordination impacts your skill. When you are working in a less than optimally coordinated way, you are interfering with your brain/body’s ability to carry out your skill in the most efficient manner. In essence, you’re working against your human design, and not in accordance with it. You might be able to do so. But you do so despite of, not because of, your coordination. Improving your overall coordination invites greater skill. Or, as F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technque) said, your improved coordination creates “the ideal conditions” for your skill to manifest itself through your bodily mechanism.

2. By improving your overall coordination, you reduce your risk of injury (and fatigue). This is why many musicians seek my help as an Alexander teacher in the first place. I have volumes of stories of very highly skilled musicians I’ve encountered who have career-threatening health issues that are related to the poor coordination they apply to their skill. As their coordination improves, so does their health, comfort, endurance and satisfaction.

3. By improving your overall coordination, you open yourself up to other expressive possibilities. This is the hidden gem of all this. As you improve your overall coordination, you also discover different ways to experience the music you play. You become less stereotyped (less “stuck”) in your interpretive choices, which, believe it or not, are highly conditioned by your bodily reactions. (This is especially true for improvising musicians!)

Our tendency as musicians is to sometimes become overly concerned with the parts that seem most pertinent to playing our instruments at the expense of neglecting the rest of ourselves. (For example, a flutist thinking perhaps too much about the formation of the embouchure at the expense of not noticing neck and shoulder strain.)

If this sounds even remotely familiar to you, consider including the quality of how you “use” your entire self (your overall coordination) into the consciousness of playing your instrument.

Let your head be poised freely atop your spine (and of course, let your jaw be free). Let your shoulders release and widen. Soften your gaze. Let you knees unlock. If you’re standing, let your ankles be free and mobile (feet, too!) as you permit the ground to support you. Let your breathing be elastic, easy, reflexive and expansive.

Think balance, mobility and expansion, instead of position or posture. A nice, lively, upward organization of your whole organism is the wish. Notice how these things impact your skill.

And of course, if you need any help in this area, consider finding a skilled Alexander Technique teacher. Allow your coordination to support your skill, and your expression.

Two Main Reasons Inefficient Practice Advice Gets Perpetuated

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One of the things I usually discover early on when teaching the Alexander Technique to musicians, is that part of the problem that led them to seek my help has to do with counterproductive pedagogy.

With a wind instrumentalist, for example, I might observe what appears to be a forced, tense, noisy, unnatural-looking inhalation before playing a note or phrase.

When I ask about this breathing habit, as often as not, I learn that it’s something that has been deliberately cultivated. In other words, it is something that they do consciously as they play.

When I ask, “So why do you do it that way?”, the answer is usually something like, “Because that’s the way ‘so and so’ (insert name of highly respected musician here) says it should be done.”

Then I ask a second question: “Why do you think he/she does it that way?”

The answer that follows usually falls into one of two categories:

Either:

They don’t know why this great musician does it that why, but it obviously works best for them.

Or:

They “know” why this great musician does it that way, but the explanation they provide isn’t in accordance with the acoustical principles of the instrument and/or with the design of the human mechanism.

And so yet more misinformation by well-meaning experts gets perpetuated. Some of it benignly inefficient, some of it downright harmful (and everything in between).

So why/how do these “myths” get perpetuated?

Two reasons:

Trusting without testing.
It works (to a certain degree).

Let’s look at this first one, trusting without testing:

No matter what we might think about how our bodies work, or about how our instruments work, there are certain solid, measurable, scientific realities about how they really work.

As a serious musician, it is your responsibility to continually improve and broaden your understanding of these things.

The more clearly you understand the real “hows and whys” of your organism (including how your thinking impacts this organism!), the better your sense of cause and effect becomes when being introduced to any new pedagogic principle and/or procedure.

If you comprehend the science behind playing your instrument, you’ll see that “some musicians do well (in part), not because of what they do, but despite what they do.” (All of my students, and some of my readers, will recognize this as one of the recurring themes in my teaching.)

It is not enough to trust and expert. You must also build a solid faith in the efficacy of a particular pedagogic element because it stands the test of actual, measurable fact. Cause and effect.

The second reason these inefficient practice ideas get perpetuated sounds contradictory to the point I’m trying to make here:

They work (to a certain degree).

It’s the “certain degree” part that opens the door to trouble. The reason for this is actually fairly simple.

Let’s go back to my earlier example about inhaling when playing a wind instrument. If you believe that you need to noisily suck in air as you try to force the air down into your abdominal region, in order for you to get a sufficient breath, you are simply working against nature.

You can’t put air “down into your gut”, because you have no lungs there. (And don’t talk about pushing the diaphragm outward to “make space for the air”; it doesn’t work like that, either.)

Yet the noisy, gasping, overly energetic breathing often accomplishes one thing: It creates a more “active” inhalation that engages more muscles (not necessarily in the most efficient way, mind you!), and that does seem to draw in more air than when you inhale in a more passive, unintentional way.

But there is some unwanted baggage attached to this way of breathing.

To begin with, all this effort creates undue strain in your jaw, glottis and facial muscles. Not to mention the strain it puts on the rest of your body. I’ve had musicians come to me for help with chronic neck and back pain that is clearly related to these poor breathing habits.

Equally important, you lose touch with what it is like to have a free, naturally reflexive inhalation.

It’s the free movement of the ribs, the diaphragm, the pelvic floor, and other muscles in the body that creates the kind of necessary expansion to draw in a deep breath. Combine this with the intention of the musical phrase and expression, and you’re good to go.

Yet, as long as you need to “feel” this forced inhalation as a “complete and full breath”, you will continue to work in this inefficient way.

And unfortunately, you’ll likely pass this advice onto your students. In Alexander Technique slang, we sometimes say that this is a case of “specifically focusing on a part, while neglecting the whole”.

So stay clear about these two things as you practice, explore and expose yourself to new ideas about playing your instrument. You’ll be better off (and so will your students!)

I’ll leave you with a quote from F.M Alexander, the founder and developer of the Alexander Technique: