Category Archives: Healthy Practice Habits

The Art Of Making Mistakes

“Your biggest mistake wasn’t in playing the wrong note. Your biggest mistake was in what you did after you played the wrong note.” I heard this during a saxophone lesson I took nearly thirty years ago from the great teacher and woodwinds artist, Bill Green. I vividly remember what he told me word for word because it was such a moment of clarity for me.

What made me sound bad wasn’t the clunker note that I played in the etude during my lesson. What made me sound bad was how I sort of fell apart after playing that note.

I was so concerned with producing a “flawless” performance, that after I made my mistake I became at first flustered (thereby making more mistakes), and then I sort of gave up.

I still finished playing the piece, but at one point I just stopped seeing the point in giving it my full intention (after all it was now flawed!) I had effectively lost the music. Disconnected myself from it. Stopped feeling it and started judging myself instead.

At that point in my musical career I had the grand notion that, with enough hard work, I could play flawlessly like the great Bill Green. But what I learned from him instead is that his aim (and the aim of most great performers) is not to play flawlessly. Instead his aim is to stay present with the music.

When you stay present in the act of making music, you indirectly reduce the amount of mistakes you’ll make. When you stay present with the act of making music, you always stay within the realm of personal expression and artistry.

When I told Bill Green that I’d never heard him make a mistake, he just chuckled. Then he replied, “Oh, you’ve heard me make mistakes. You just didn’t notice them.” He said that the important thing is to keep the music going and stay present with your original intention. He went on to tell me an allegorical tale:

Imagine you’re in a dark forest, running for your life to elude an angry bear that is chasing you. You have a good head start on the bear, and if you keep running, you’ll make it to safety before the bear can catch you. But then (because it’s dark) you accidentally run into the low branches of a tree. Bam!

You’re not hurt, but you’re startled. You have to keep running though, so you continue to do so. But now your thoughts are on that tree that gave you a problem, and you keep looking back toward where it was. Then, Bam! You run into another tree. Same thing, you’re startled but not hurt. You keep running, still looking back at those damned low-lying branches that gave you trouble. Then, Bam again! And so on…

I think you get the point: once you’ve made a mistake, let it go. Stay present and keep moving forward toward your intended goal. It works in the forest running from a bear (it gives you better odds of survival, anyhow), and it works in playing music.

When I teach the Alexander Technique to performers who struggle with performance anxiety, I’m struck by one underlying theme: These folks are almost never in the present moment of their performance. They tend to live somewhere between fear of that which is yet to come (their fear of making mistakes), and regret of that which just happened (the mistakes they’ve made thus far).

This keeps them shifting back and forth from past to future, never having a chance to experience the exhilaration of the present moment. (Not exactly something that cultivates and supports an authentic and rich personal expression.) When I can get them back to the present moment, they are often stunned with the beauty and power of their performance.

There is art in all aspects of music making, both in what you intend to play, and in what you don’t intend to play. It comes down to how you react to what you do. To make mistakes artfully, you must react in such a way that allows the flow of your art to continue.

So notice how you react the next time you make a mistake while performing:

What happens in your body? Do you tense up? Stop breathing? If you notice that you become tense, see if you can discern a pattern. Do you stiffen your neck? Raise your shoulders? Lock your knees? Ask yourself if any of these patterns of tension might be preventing you from playing your best. If the answer is yes, practice not reacting with these patterns as you play. If you give yourself the chance to pay attention, you might also find that these same patterns of habitual tension rise up a great deal while you’re practicing as well. This is a wonderful opportunity to practice preventing these kinds of reactions. You can take this skill right into your performances.

Where does your attention go? (Does it move backwards or do you easily bring yourself back to the present moment? Do you “give up” on the performance, or stay with your intentions?) It’s important that you learn to let go of regret immediately after you’ve made a mistake. This takes a persistent, clear intention, as well as practice. But if you can learn to react by not reacting (no such thing, really, but I think you get the picture; just stay present and clamly alert) you’ll become a much more consistent, artful and authentic performer.

How Often Do You Stop Listening To Yourself As You Practice Your Instrument?

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I was giving an Alexander Technique lesson this morning to a young violinist who had come to me because of some problems with pain and tension (particularly in his left shoulder) as he played. This morning I wanted to see what he does with himself as he practices, so I had him practice an arpeggio exercise that he knew from memory. My intention was to let him play for about 10 minutes uninterrupted as I observed.

At one point in the exercise (playing the G diminished arpeggio), I began to hear his intonation go haywire. Most of his intervals became flat in pitch, and rather lifeless sounding, as well. It was in stark contrast to his typical intonation and complex tone color.

Yet he played straight through as if there were nothing at all wrong. Now, understand, this is a young man who is unusually mindful, very bright and has very nice intonation. (He’s the concert master in an honors youth orchestra here in Los Angeles.)

At this point (it was about 5 minutes into his practice) I decided I needed to stop him. I asked, ” Can you hear anything different about your intonation?” He paused, and said he wasn’t sure. So I had him go from the beginning again. When he arrived at the G diminished arpeggio, his intonation again began to suffer. I stopped him again and asked him this question:

“Where is your attention right now, more to what you’re doing, or more toward what you’re hearing?”

Without hesitation he said that it was much more toward what he was doing as he played as opposed to what he was hearing. (He wasn’t daydreaming or anything like that, he was just primarily focused on the mechanical aspect of what he was doing.)

I asked him if he started the exercise this way. He said no, that at first he had a balance between paying attention to what he was doing, and what he was hearing. As he got to the diminished arpeggios he said that he couldn’t aurally imagine them the same way he could with the diatonic arpeggios (tonic, subdominant). For that reason he realized he was trying to play the diminished arpeggio by concentrating on what he was doing at the expense of what he was hearing.

So first, I had him isolate and sing the G diminished arpeggio pattern that was part of the exercise. Then I asked him play it on his violin, but asked him to really listen to himself. Immediately he heard his bad intonation, smiled then began to correct it back to his normal, beautiful intonation.

All he had to do was to give himself a chance to actually hear what he was playing. It was that simple.

How often do you lose sight of your sound (of your whole self for that matter) when you narrow your attention to only take in the act of executing the music? I know that when sight reading or playing a difficult passage it’s easy to lose touch with everything (except the anxious anticipation of the unknown) .

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

If you find yourself doing this, simply shift your attention back to what you hear and what you are doing with yourself as you play.

In the case of my young violinist this morning, he had actually lost sight of both of these things, letting himself get wrapped up into the mechanics of executing the music, instead of the music of the music. (Yes, I actually meant to say that.)

What my student also realized was that, as he lost touch with his sound, he had also lost touch to how he was using himself. Because of this he went back into some of his old patterns of harmfully misdirected effort (his left shoulder began to tense up quite a bit). As he stopped to give himself a chance to hear himself, he also returned to the newer, lighter, easier, more efficient use of himself. (He let go of that shoulder tension.)

What you hear and what you do as you play music go seamlessly hand in hand. One supports the other. One relies upon the other. One affects the other (for better or worse). You might be surprised at how often you stop hearing yourself because you’ve stopped listening the your music.

The practice room is a great place to work on this expanded, integrated attention. And I know from experience that it is highly possible to cultivate this kind of attention. So see what you do as the music gets more difficult or nebulous. Then simply listen.

Opening Your Mouth: One Simple Tip For Wind Instrumentalists And Singers

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As an Alexander Technique teacher, one of the most common habits of mal-coordination I observe involves how wind instrumentalists and singers open their mouths as they perform. Whether to take a breath, or to simply set the embouchure (in the case of the wind player), I too often see this: the performer opening the mouth from the wrong side of the joint. Let me explain.

Your jaw is a joint that has two movable sides: A bottom side (called the mandible, or “jawbone” side of the joint) and a top side (called the maxilla, or “skull” side of the joint). Technically speaking you only have one jaw, and that’s the part (the mandible) that hangs from the skull. But in reality you can open your mouth from either side of the joint, skull-side or jaw-side.

By far, the most efficient way to open your mouth is from the jaw-side. This is really mostly a matter of letting the jaw release away from the skull. But what I see far too often are singers and wind instrumentalists opening their mouths from the skull-side of the joint. By doing so they put excessive strain not only on the jaw structure, but also on the entire head/neck structure which creates a type of tension that interferes significantly with breath and coordination.

Try this little experiment:

Place one of your hands, palm-side down under the bottom of your chin, so that your fingers are lightly touching your throat. Now, keeping your hand still to stop your jaw from moving, open your mouth (you’ll be opening your mouth from the skull-side of the joint). Now close your mouth from the jaw-side of the joint. Repeat this open and close process two more times. You’ll feel your head being pulled back by all the tension you’re placing on your neck to open your mouth.

In Alexander lingo, we say pulling your head back by tightening your neck in such a way interferes with your primary control, that is, the relationship of your head to your neck and back that is absolutely primary in how it conditions the quality of your entire bodily coordination (including breathing!)

If you pull your head back to open your mouth your directly interfere with to things. First, by tightening your neck you interfere with the free use of your limbs (your hands will be compromised). Second, by pulling your head back you will press your larynx in towards the bones of your neck significantly interfering with your ability to inhale. (If you’re a singer, it’s also going to create way more tension on your vocal mechanisms.)

Also, almost without fail what goes hand in hand with this habit is gasping the breath in noisily through the mouth during inhalation. Not only is this disruptive to the music, but it is not the most efficient way to breath in quickly. (I’m going to write specifically about this in a future post.)

So what do you do when you open your mouth? Observe yourself when playing or singing, especially when you must take breaths quickly. You might find that you already are in the habit of letting your jaw release away from your skull to open your mouth. If so, great! You might also find that for the most part you let your jaw release away from your skull, but under the pinch of taking a quick breath you start to go toward pulling your head back as you open your mouth from the “wrong” side of the joint.

If you find yourself doing this habitually, now’s the time to start lessening that tendency (aiming to eventually eliminate it!) Here’s a way to proceed:

Start practicing opening your mouth without your instrument. Just think about letting your head stay in easy balance on top of your spine as you let your jaw release away from your skull.
Practice opening your mouth with your instrument as you bring your instrument toward your face. Then place your instrument in (or onto) your mouth and let your jaw and lips come to the instrument, but don’t yet make a sound.
Repeat this step, but this time once the instrument is “in place”, blow a bit of slow, warm air without any intention of producing a sound.
Put it all together. Give yourself a few moments each day, maybe when working on long tones or other tone studies to be mindful about how you open your mouth.

Your sound, breathing, ease and coordination will all improve by subtracting this one little habit in your playing.

What is your habit? Observe yourself as you play and sing, especially when taking quick breaths.

Prevention As The Key For Improving Your Technique

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Bill Green, who was legendary in Los Angeles as a wise teacher and master of woodwind instruments once said to me: “You know, it’s a shame, but many musicians spend the first half of their lives learning to play, and the last half unlearning the habits that came along with learning to play.” And so it is with most of us, especially with respect to instrumental and vocal pedagogy.

In an ideal world (and what Bill Green was advocating) was to start off well on the learning journey, always developing habits that help us to make music instead of interfering with the process. I couldn’t agree more with this approach.

Unfortunately, not all of us have had the good fortune to have a clear-thinking, vigilant teacher always by our side to help us along the way. Many musicians find ways to improve despite what they’re doing, not because of it. (I’m no exception to that.) And even those musicians who have had brilliant teachers often still find ways of developing habits of misdirected effort that come with making music.

When I teach a class in the Alexander Technique to musicians, I like to go around the class and ask each person which aspect of pedagogy (technique, intonation, etc.) he or she would most like to improve. Practically without fail all the responses I get from the students have one thing in common: the need to stop something habitual from happening while playing music.

I hear things like, “I’d like to be able to play in the upper register without clenching my jaw.”, or, “I’d like to be able to play pianissimo in the bottom octave without stiffening up and going sharp.” In other words, these musicians are hoping to unlearn the habits that are contributing to their playing challenges.

Even the musicians who don’t directly use the “without doing” language still want something that calls primarily upon prevention of habit.

For example, “I’m awkward with my arpeggios. I’d like to increase my speed and fluency.” As I begin to work with the student he or she comes to realize that to do this involves stopping the habitual pattern of misdirected tension that interferes with the speed and fluidity of playing arpeggios. Again, prevention.

This preventative approach involves unlearning habitual response patterns. Once the student gets into the frame of mind to unlearn instead of learn, the true road to improvement is opened.

I call this subtractive practice.

Rather than adding some new thing to do in order to improve technique, the aim here is to subtract (prevent) something old (your habit) from happening as you play music to help you improve.

This has become a fundamental principle of how I practice everyday, whether it is something specific to saxophone technique or an improvisational concept. From this I’ve been able to find consistent growth, satisfaction and surprise along the way.

F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique) said, “If you can stop doing the wrong thing, the right thing will do itself.” With respect to instrumental or vocal pedagogy for so-called “advanced” or “artist level” musicians, this is true in many cases. (You already know how to play. It’s just a matter of attenuating a few habits to help you play even better.)

I encourage you to consider this idea as you approach your practice. Ask yourself: Are my habits interfering with my progress? If the answer is yes, I want you to know that you can begin to change that any time you wish. Here are a few things to keep in mind to help you:

Make a list of what you wish to change-Write down the 3 or 4 things (or maybe just one thing or 10!) you’d like to change to improve the technical aspects of your playing. It could be anything from cleaner articulation, to better intonation, to a more speed and fluency, to….

Reframe these changes from a point of view of prevention-With respect to each area of improvement you wish to make, see if you can notice if you have a habit of tension associated with it. For example, if you wish for faster and cleaner single tonguing articulation, see if you notice yourself tensing up as you “try” to play faster. Notice particularly what you do with your head (including your jaw and lips), neck, and shoulders. If you find yourself tensing up unnecessarily, see if you can understand how this tension not only doesn’t help, but might actually be interfering with your progress. If it is, then you know specifically what you need to prevent to improve. Almost without fail, sloppy technique goes hand in hand with misdirected muscular energy (too much tension here, not enough there). Make your desired aim be, “I’d like to stop tightening my jaw (for example) as I increase the speed of my articulation.” Reframe your other desired changes from your list in a similar way.

Allow yourself dedicated time each day to consciously work to subtract or lessen your habits-Don’t spend each moment of your practice time doing nothing but trying to stop your habits. Besides making you a little crazy, it can get boring and frustrating very quickly (I’m probably stating the obvious here). Just dedicate a certain amount of easily invested and manageable time each day to working specifically against each habit.You can say, for example, “For the next 10 minutes I’m going to practice making a conscious decision to prevent my jaw from tensing up as I gradually increase the speed of my articulation. That will be the aim of my practice. I’ll go no faster than I can go without tightening my jaw.” Over time your old habits of tension will become weaker and weaker, and your playing will improve. It’s that simple.

Allow yourself to stop-There’s nothing to be gained from doing your habit over and over if it is not helping you. Learn to stop at the very moment you notice yourself going into an unwantd playing habit. Every time you stop, you weaken the pattern. And you improve.

Allow yourself to sound worse-Anytime you change how you play your instrument, you run the risk of sounding worse. Now, keep in mind that this doesn’t always happen. Very often you’ll sound immediately better if you play with less tension. In fact, that’s the norm. But sometimes just changing one little thing you do habitually can throw you off for a minute or two. Don’t let that discourage you. Look upon this as an experiment. Give yourself a chance to adjust to the changes. See if you can understand specifically what your doing that might be making things worse. Are you trying too hard? Thinking too much about one thing? Tensing something else in your body unnecessarily as you play. You have another learning opportunity right there if you can do this.

I’ll talk more in future posts about bringing prevention into the aesthetic aspects of playing, particularly as they relate to improvisation. In the meantime, see if you can make a shift in your thinking from doing to prevention. You’ll be surprised by how much you can grow.

Juilliard Music Students Talk About The Alexander Technique

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One of my greatest satisfactions in life is being able to use the Alexander Technique as a tool help musicians. If you’re a musician, the Technique is useful for everything from teaching you how to avoid injuries and play with less pain and strain, to improving your coordination and skill, to helping you hear and respond more effectively to the music around you, to giving you a way of finding and developing your authentic expressive voice as a performer. It has helped me to improve as a musician more than anything else that I’ve yet discovered in my life.

Here’s a very nice video made by Lori Schiff, who teaches the Alexander Technique at Juilliard and at the Aspen Music Festival. She doesn’t try to describe the Technique so much as she just let’s the students (she also has a few working professional musicians speaking as well) tell about how they’ve been helped by the work. If you have experience with the Alexander Technique, you’ll likely appreciate (and relate to) what the various musicians are saying about the work. If you haven’t experienced the Technique, I hope this at leasts piques your curiosity. Enjoy!