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

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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.

New Book: Four-Note Diatonic Triad Cells

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I’m especially pleased to announce that my latest eBook, Four-Note Diatonic Triad Cells: Comprehensive Studies in Leading Tones, is now available for purchase and immediate download.

Major and minor triads are a fundamental building block of virtually any melodic language, most certainly including jazz. As an improvising musician, gaining mastery over the movement and connection of triads is an essential skill that leads to fluency and cogency in musical expression. In bebop as well as the modern jazz languages, this is especially true when the triads can be seamlessly connected via half-step leading tones.

The concept of this book is simple, but far-reaching: I’ve converted every diatonic triad (major and minor, in all inversions) into a “four-note melodic cell” by adding a note that helps it to connect (via half-step voice leading) to other triad cells in a flowing, melodic way. By adding this fourth note, triads become more readily available for eighth note and sixteenth note movement, which is still the rhythmic staple of modern jazz improvisation.

Each triad cell is connected to the next by both lower neighbor and upper neighbor leading tones. The “fourth note” of the cell is either a diatonic tone (either scale degree, or a repeated chord tone), or a chromatic passing tone, depending on how one cell needs to connect to the next cell:

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The triads are organized to move intervallically: ascending perfect 4ths (as in the example above), as well as ascending and descending minor 2nds, 3rds, etc., in every possible way. These intervallic movement sequences are organized from major to major, minor to minor, major to minor and minor to major; again, in all inversions and with upper and lower neighbor leading tones connecting them.

Some of these movement sequences will most likely sound familiar (“bebopish”), whereas others will sound most decidedly “modern”. At the end of the book I’ve included a Reference Chapter that demonstrates how each of these triad cell movements can be applied to ii-V7 cycles. Part of my aim in composing this book was to bridge the gap between bebop and more contemporary jazz languages.

You can think of this book as a playable reference, of sorts, on how to connect triads via leading tones. Like my other eBooks, it is comprehensive and very carefully organized and presented. There are over 200 pages of notated exercises to keep you busy for a very long time. I’ve composed each exercise to flow in a smooth, melodically logical way.

Working from this book will not only significantly increase your melodic fluidity when improvising, but will also improve how you hear and think harmonically and melodically. You’ll have a working guide on how to go deeper into using melodic devices with triads, including triad pairs, stacked triads and enclosures.

And as a bonus, practicing these exercises on a regular basis will significantly improve your technical skills, no matter which melodic instrument you play. You’ll be working with arpeggios in a fundamentally different way: One that is challenging, enjoyable, and ultimately, highly practical.

I’ve written this book with the intermediate to advanced jazz improviser in mind (for this reason I don’t explain basic jazz harmony and theory), though even less advanced students of improvisation can benefit from working through these exercises by getting the sounds in their ears and under their fingers. All exercises are in treble clef.

So take a look at the Four-Note Diatonic Triad Cells: Comprehensive Studies in Leading Tones landing page on my blog, which has a pdf sample of one of the exercises, as well as a pdf copy of the written introduction of the book, which further explains the concept, the format, the benefits and the practice guidelines for implementing the work. I’ll also be putting up a few jazz etudes that deal specifically with this concept in the near future. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

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.

Deepening Improvisation: Do This Every Time You Learn a New Melodic Pattern

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Part of the work in studying improvisation is what I call “feeding” our ears and imagination. In essence, this involves learning and practicing new patterns and sequences.

These patterns can be anything from simple, diatonic melodic movements, to more harmonically complex polytonal statements that you’ve discovered in a jazz etude book, to very particular “licks” that you’ve transcribed from somebody’s solo.

All good.

And all things that will ultimately increase your improvisational vocabulary.

Whenever I give a lesson to any intermediate to advanced improvisers, I typically find that they are already practicing patterns on a regular basis. (I can hear it manifest itself as part of their improvisational “vocabulary”.)

Yet far too many of them are not doing one very important thing each time they learn a new idea, lick or pattern:

They’re not singing it first, before playing it.

As simple as that.

I begin to suspect this based upon what I hear in their playing, which in general, sounds like they are somewhat disconnected to the notes they are playing. In short, it sounds like they’re not playing so much from their aural imagination, as from mechanical memorization.

As I start asking questions, I often find that they also don’t do much singing in general as they practice improvisation.

And that’s where we begin to change their practice aims and procedures.

You see, there is a very good reason all the legendary jazz artists would learn so much of their vocabulary by ear (and why this learning tradition is carried on by today’s great artists and educators).

It all comes down to how you think and react.

When you think of a melodic idea in a mechanical sense (such as, “root, to flat 5, to 4, to flat 3, to natural 3, to root”, for example), your brain organizes how you’re going to play that idea (your reaction) in a fundamentally different way than if it emerged from your aural imagination.

When you practice patterns from this more “mechanical” organization, it not only takes a good deal of time to “get the notes under your fingers”, it also takes a long time to find its way into your natural, organic improvisational expression.

On the other hand, when you are able to hear clearly and precisely how a melodic pattern sounds, you will not only get the notes under your fingers in a shorter amount of time, but you’ll also be able to access the pattern more readily as you improvise.

And here’s the bonus part:

When you learn patterns primarily by hearing and imagining them, you become much more flexible with how you use them. This means that you easily learn to make variations on them in the moment when you improvise (which, in many ways, is the essence of improvisational variation).

By using you ears in this way you turn patterns into components of aural imagination and impulse. This becomes the fuel that privides energy and movement for your improvisations.

When you first start learning patterns by ear, it can seem daunting. It might take a lot of time to learn even the most rudimentary melodic patterns (like 1,4,5, 3 in major keys for example).

Keep in mind that you get better and better at doing this (meaning faster and more accurate) the more you practice it. And also keep in mind that you can start simple, building upon your skill.

But here’s the bottom line:

No matter whether you discover a new melodic pattern (or lick, or sequence, or idea, or fragment, etc.) that you want to learn from a recording, or from a notated source (such as a transcription or jazz etude book), get in the habit of doing this one very simple, very important thing:

Take the time to sing the pattern with 100% accuracy before you take it to your instrument to work on it. Don’t just approximate the general “shape” of the pattern. Know it from note to note in its entirety.

Sing it in at least one key, but sing it until you have confidence that you imagine and hear it with vivid clarity. Let it go deep inside of you.

It is never time wasted.

And even if you’re practicing patterns from a book that presents a particular melodic pattern in all 12 keys, take time to sing the pattern in an iteration that fits within your vocal range. Then start wherever that is on the page and work each of the other keys of the pattern using your “singing key” as a starting point.

Doing this regularly will help you to play and absorb the pattern in the other keys more readily and more deeply.

It’s a matter of turning the somewhat abstract (the notes and sequence of the pattern, lick, etc.) into something a bit more concrete (your expression).

And when that happens, you’re on your way to expanding and personalizing your own unique improvisational voice.

Listening to Your Sound Differently: An Experiment in Perception

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There really is no such thing as truly hearing the “absolute reality” of your sound as you play. In part, that’s because your sound constantly changes as it is impacted by two fundamental things:

1. Environment

2. Perception

Environment has to do with such things as the acoustical qualities of the room you’re playing in, coupled with other variables, such as the other instruments you’re playing with.

Perception has to do with how you hear your sound.

More specifically, it has to do with how you pay attention to your sound as you play. Your perception includes not only the environment in which you are playing, but also how you’re sensing the bony structures inside your head (and close to your ears!) as they vibrate in response to your playing.

Your perception of your sound both shapes the sound itself and influences your experience of it. Perception and experience being inextricably connected. (If you’ve ever played in a particularly good or particularly horrible acoustical setting, you’ve probably realized this.)

Whenever I teach the Alexander Technique to musicians, we do lots of explorations with how they hear their sounds, and how that perception influences their coordination. This is often a question not just of “how” they’re listening for their sound, but also “where” they’re listening for it.

If I’m working with a musician who has serious problems with loss of skill (focal dystonia, for example), I find without fail that the musician in question is listening to his/her sound in a very inflexible, internally focused way.

More specifically, the sound is being felt (kinesthetically) almost more than it is actually being heard in the external environment.

An overly internal focus of attention is often the very thing that leads these musicians to seek my help. This quality of attention tends to exclude and divide, as opposed to include and integrate.

The motor mechanisms of the brain don’t work optimally this way, and problems with tone quality, attack, time, articulation and technical control can arise as a result of such thinking.

Striking a healthy, dynamic balance between the internal (what’s going on inside of you) and external (what’s going on outside of you) helps support optimal coordination and skill.

One of the tools I use to help musicians find this balance involves a very simple experiment with sound and perception. And even for musicians who don’t have any discernible problems, this little experiment can be eye-opening, and quite helpful. Here it is:

Choose something lyrical and highly familiar and enjoyable for you to play.

Then, play the piece (or passage, or whatever) as you make a conscious decision to hear your sound as close to you as you possibly can.

So if you’re a wind instrumentalist or a singer, you’ll listen for the sound right inside your head: in your oral cavity, nasal passages, etc. If you play a string instrument, you’ll listen for the sound right where your bow or fingers make contact with the strings.

Play like this a couple of times, until you’re reasonably sure that you carried out your intention to hear your sound so closely.

Now, play the same piece, this time bringing your attention to the room itself. Listen for your sound to the very far corners of the room (no matter how large or small).

What do you notice?

Is there a contrast between one quality of attention and the other in terms of how you experience your sound? (quality, color, volume, resonance, control)

Is there a difference in your effort? (more tension, less tension, better coordination, worse coordination?)

Play the piece yet again, this time bringing most of your attention to the feel of the sound inside the instrument itself (not in your body!) Take this attention to the feel of the sound in the instrument and with it, listen for your sound out into the far corners of the room.

How does this compare/contrast to the other two ways of paying attention? Which seems to help you most?

After experimenting this way a few times, giving yourself a chance to process and reflect upon the experiences, try doing all three experiments with some kind of recording device.

Do you notice anything different in your sound as you change your thinking? Resonance, volume, color, pitch? If you notice any differences, keep in mind that you’re noticing how your perception of your sound impacts its quality. (This reality can be very powerful, and working in accordance with it can be highly practical!)

You can also explore going back and forth from hearing the sound near you, and farther away all in the same piece (even in the same phrase).

So how do you typically listen to your sound as you play? Close to you? Away from you? (Somewhere in between?) Do you listen to yourself differently depending on the environment? The needs of the situation itself?

By becoming aware of how/where you listen to yourself, you can give yourself the opportunity to improve both your sound and your overall skill as you play.

Explore this process. See what you like. What seems to help most. What allows you to respond with the greatest availability and precision. Realize that, ultimately, your thinking can (and should) remain flexible and responsive, and generally be as outward oriented as is practically possible.

Take these “tools of thinking” into your practice, rehearsal and performance, honing your attention to best serve your intention and your expression.