Rethinking A Well-Meaning Saying About Practicing

Don’t practice until you get it right. Practice it until you can’t get it wrong.

This saying is common among athletes as well as performing artists.

In essence, this sounds like a good reminder of how committed you must be, how faithfully and tenaciously you must practice something to do it consistently well. I’ve heard many accomplished musicians express some version of this sentiment when giving advice about practicing.

But in my experience as an Alexander Technique teacher, I’ve also seen a downside attached to this sentiment.

Let’s start with the upside.

Practicing with this kind of commitment can bring you deeply into the music. Spending long periods of time as you aim towards mastery, gives your brain a chance to more fully process the aural and motor components necessary to execute the music more readily.

Plus, holding yourself to higher standards is fundamental to improvement. It can fuel your path toward continued growth.

All good.

So where is the downside?

Well, let’s start with the fact that it is an impossibility.

No matter how much you practice any fine motor skill, there is no guarantee that you will never make a mistake carrying it out. Go to any concert of even the most virtuosic musicians, and, if you’re listening for it, you’ll hear what I sometimes euphemistically refer to as “unintended events” (more commonly referred to as “flaws”).

Besides, no matter how diligently you’ve prepared, no matter how hard you practice, there are things that are beyond your control: everything from weather conditions affecting your pitch, to unwanted physiologic responses, to mechanical issues with your instrument, to the unpredictability of other musicians. (I’m speaking mostly about performance as opposed to practice here.)

Perfection is a human construct. It is an ideal, not a universally quantifiable reality.

Unfortunately, the pursuit of absolute perfection tends to make many musicians frustrated, perpetually unsatisfied, and even somewhat resentful and fearful about practicing and performing.

Some of the students who seek my help are hamstrung by their impossible pursuit of perfection. They are nearly paralyzed as they play, holding themselves stiffly, their eyes intense and glaring, their breathing noisy and forced. They more closely resemble warriors than artists.

Their music-making lives are nearly devoid of any kind of love or joy. It is mostly about fear, demand and unreasonable expectation.

As they relentlessly practice the same thing over and over, day after day, they often lose touch with what they are actually doing with themselves as they pursue this tense kind of perfection.

This, unfortunately, leads to a variety of problems: chronic pain, injury, coordination issues, anxiety and more.

Another pitfall for some is that this “practice until I can’t get it wrong” work ethic can morph into a sort of mindlessness about performance and practice. It can tempt you to rely upon a mechanical and unconscious “auto pilot” to take care of everything.

This not only deprives you of the thrill of being in the moment as you play, but also, it can invite and cultivate habits of unnecessary tension (which can cause chronic pain and some of the other problems I mentioned above.)

It needn’t be this way.

A more practical and constructive saying might be something like:

Don’t practice until you get it right. Practice until you know it intimately.

(Yes, I know it’s not as catchy as the original, but it’s more doable. And it’s certainly more healthy.)

Knowing something intimately doesn’t mean you’re beyond making errors. It means that you can always find your way back if and when you do. You can self-correct. You can stay present. You can stay connected with your muse, your desire and the overall meaning of the music. You become responsive, inspired. In the moment.

How do you know when you know the music intimately?

It starts with your ear. Can you sing it with reasonably detailed accuracy? If you can sing it, it’s deeply wired in your brain (your ear, your imagination). If you get off track, it’s easy to quickly find your way back.

Second, make sure you are crystal clear about any technical choices that best support the music: Fingerings, voicing, articulations, breathing, dynamics. Take time and be mindful with these choices. As you sing the music, review in your mind these details of technique. Merge technique and imagination seamlessly together, and let your desires be clear and lucid in detail.

Finally (as I’ve mentioned above, as well as in several of my other articles) create your music from a place of love and desire. Love cultivates the best kind of intimacy. Aim high, remain flexible, be present and enjoy the unknown mystery and magic of playing music.

Standing And Sitting To Play Music: Two Important Mechanical Principles

Practically without exception whenever I give a musician an Alexander Technique lesson, I witness habits of imbalance and tension in the acts of sitting and standing that sharply impact the musician’s coordination, comfort and sense of control and satisfaction.

Because they are so deeply ingrained, the sensations of these habits fall below the kinesthetic “radar” of the musician (i.e., they don’t feel “wrong” at all.) In essence, there is general lack of an accurate body awareness involved in the music making process.

This lack of awareness is usually accompanied by a misconception about how their bodies function best in gravity. This is where I usually introduce two concepts (which are actually related mechanical principles):

support, and suspension

Support

Whenever I give an Alexander Technique lesson to a new student, I ask, “What is supporting you as you stand?” I get a variety of answers:

“My feet.”

“My legs.”

“My hips and back.”

“My entire body.”

(And sometimes, after some reflection by my student, I even get, “I have no idea.”)

But the truth of the matter is that when your standing, the ground (or the floor) is supporting you. Yes, that’s right. Gravity is drawing the mass of your body downward, and the ground is accepting and holding that mass.

Now, this is an important concept to grasp, because if you’re not allowing the ground to support you, you’re most likely tensing your body unnecessarily in an unconscious attempt to hold yourself up: stiff ankles, knees, hips, back, shoulders, neck…even your jaw.

It’s important that you let your weight pass through your bones into the floor (if you’re standing) or through your sitting bones (if your sitting). Let the stable surface of the floor or chair support you.

Suspension

But you need more than support to stay upright and in balance. You need an “anti-gravitational” energy source to counter the pull of gravity. This is where suspension comes into play.

Wired inside of you is a neuromuscular response to go up against the pull of gravity. (In fact, all organisms on the face of the earth have an anti-gravitational response system; even plants rise up from the ground, defying the pull of gravity.)

The muscles in your spine, from your pelvis to the top of your neck, and the muscles in your legs, are sending you lightly, yet powerfully upward you up as you stand.

If you let them. And this is where habit comes into play.

You see, you were born with (and cultivated in your earliest days after birth) this upward tendency: your head releasing at the top of your spine, your back lengthening and widening, your legs releasing out of your pelvis extending you upward, and your feet spreading out onto the floor. All of this upward suspension is  expansive, springy, flexible and responsive by design.

Yet, many of us lose this dynamic suspension as we get older through habits of bracing and/or collapse. When we un-learn these habits, our upwardly mobile suspension system returns to functioning optimally.

Why is this important?

No matter what instrument you play, if you are perpetually out of balance, you are creating tension that interferes with the freedom and functioning of the parts most directly involved in playing your instrument.

As an example, If you’re saxophonist (as I am) and you stiffen your legs as you play, you’ll also stiffen your pelvis (in an unconscious attempt to compensate for the lack of mobility involved in balance.) If you’re stiffening your pelvis, your shoulders will stiffen for the same reasons. If you’re stiffening your shoulders, your arms (because of their structual relaitonship with your shoulders), are stiff as well. If you’re stiffening your arms, you’re interfering with the freedom in your hands.

And so on. If you doubt this at all, as an experiment, stand on a very wobbly surface as you play your instrument (an Airex pad, or Bosu ball, for example). You’ll experience the above mentioned responses of tension immediately, and will have a noticeable loss of control over your instrument.

All this doesn’t even take into account the effect this has on your breathing. Can you play well with these habits of tension and imbalance? Sure. Skilled musicians do all the time.

But you’ll play better without them. I can vouch for that, both as a teacher and as a musician.

Integrating and optimizing

Support and suspension work best as an integrated system. Here are few things to keep in mind to help you take advantage of how your bodily design functions best in gravity:

  • Begin by thinking of yourself as being light. Seriously. There is a powerful connection between how you perceive yourself and your neuromuscular responses and organization.
  • Allow your weight to release into the floor (if you’re standing; if you’re sitting, allow your weight to release directly through your sitting bones onto the surface of the chair), as you imagine your head releasing lightly upward off the top of your spine.
  • If you’re standing, let your weight pass directly through your legs and through your ankle bones and heels into the floor. Think of your legs as releasing out of you hips. As you shift toward balance, your weight might shift slightly toward your heels. Let that happen as you also allow your feet to gently spread out onto the floor. Give yourself a moment to notice the stability of the floor.
  • Allow your ankles to be free and mobile to accept the support of the floor. The same with your knees and hips. No need to lock joints . Think that you have lots of space in your joints and lots of mobility (whether you’re sitting or standing).
  • Imagine each of  your feet as a three-legged stool (heel, base of your large toe, and base of your small toe). Ask yourself if you are putting too much of your weight into any one of these legs.
  • Think of your shoulders as widening, as they release one away from the other in response to your lengthening spine.
  • Don’t try to lift, or hold yourself up. Remember, “up” is already there in your body as a response to the pull of gravity. This is true, whether sitting or standing. Imagine unlatching yourself to release upwards.
  • Remain mobile, both in thought and movement. Don’t try to maintain posture. Instead, renew the wish for this springy, light upward organization in your body

It may seem counter-intuitive, but you’re allowing the weight to pass through your body as you direct your thinking in the opposite direction. In the simples sense, your weight goes downward, but your head releases your spine upwards. Two different directions, working together to integrate support and suspension, so you can play your best!

As a final thought, keep in mind that there is a difference between being grounded (supported, suspended, mobile and free) and being planted (held, stiffened and/or collapsed and immobile). Aim for being grounded, and you’ll improve your chances of success.

New Year, New Possibilities

Happy New Year! 2014 has been a highly productive and enlightening year for me. I have gained several hundred new subscribers, and my blog has now been translated into over forty languages!

This is something I’m particularly pleased about. I love to help other musicians through sharing what I know, what I’ve learned and discovered. And the fact that my readership continues to grow inspires me to dig more deeply and share even more.

2014 in brief

About mid-year, I changed the design of my blog. I’m pleased with this current design, as it adds many features to allow me to help my readers even more.

Besides writing for this blog, I’ve also written a few articles for other blogs (most recently on Best.Saxpophone.Website.Ever.com), I’ve also put up some new material, free to download, on my Jazz Etudes page. Here’s my newest etude, which just went up this morning.

I’ve also put up two new jazz pedagogy books on my blog this past year, and plan to release two (or three) more in the coming year. The next several of my books will be dealing nearly exclusively with the rhythmic components of improvisation (as opposed to harmony/pitch choice).

The first of these books (which will be available for download in mid-January) is entitled Essential Polymeter Studies In 4/4, and will explore an improvisational concept and skill that I’ve been working with for a number of years now. Writing these books has been an enormously satisfying part of my work this last year. The interest musicians have shown toward my books has been beyond encouraging, and for that I am deeply grateful.

My other work life has been busy, as well as very rewarding. Besides enjoying a lively private practice as an Alexander Technique teacher specializing in helping musicians, I continue to teach at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy in Los Angeles.

I’ve had the opportunity to teach a vast array of musicians this year, from elite orchestral performers, to jazz and other improvising artists, to pop/commercial session players, to musical theater artists and more. I feel fortunate to have learned so much from my students.

Besides mindfully practicing the saxophone and jazz improvisation daily, I’ve also had the opportunity to perform and record with some of my favorite improvisers here in the Los Angeles area. I can easily say that I grow to enjoy playing even more each day. It is one of the greatest rewards of my life.

If you subscribe to my blog, you may have noticed that just about everything I write about can be put into one of three categories/subjects:

1. Applying the principles of the Alexander Technique to musical practice and performance.

2. Improving the efficiency of your practice efforts and strategies.

3. Jazz pedagogy (including ear training and etudes)

If you’ve come to my blog for only one of these topics, please consider checking out some of the other things I write about. (You might be pleasantly surprised, and even helped!) I have written over one hundred thirty articles on this blog with the express purpose of helping my fellow musicians.

Everything I write about/teach/explore/share is based upon the well-founded principles of the Alexander Technique (even jazz pedagogy). It is the Technique’s emphasis on quality of process, natural coordination, natural learning, and objective discernment, that informs everything I do, both as teacher and as musician.

What’s new for 2015?

Besides the new jazz pedagogy books, I’ll also be adding some new features to my blog:

1. Audio-I’ll be putting up audio samples of me practicing some of the concepts from my various jazz pedagogy books. I’ll also start making available some of the older recordings I’ve participated in, as well as releasing one or two new albums this year of my own compositions and playing.

2. Video-I plan demonstrating some of my work teaching the Alexander Technique to various musicians, as well as videos of me demonstrating and explaining more efficient, natural and healthy ways to maintain posture and move as you play your instrument or sing.

3. Webinars-I’m hoping to produce my first interactive, educational webinar, most likely explaining and exploring the application of the Alexander Technique to playing music. (Please contact me if you’d like to participate!)

In addition to this, I intend to expand my teaching opportunities via Skype. I’ve been very pleased with how much can be accomplished in this medium. If you’d like to study with me, please get in touch.

I’ll continue to post articles about every two weeks, and will offer at least fifteen new jazz etudes this coming year. If you enjoy my jazz etudes, you probably realize that they are written, not so much for solidifying the “jazz language”, as much as for showing new possibilities in the jazz idiom by exploring the materials of music (harmony, melody, rhythm, form) in different ways.

People sometimes ask me where I get all my ideas from for my articles. I tell them, “I get them from two places: helping my students effectively address their problems; and observing and experimenting with myself and my own learning process as I address my own problems. I’m never at a loss for new ideas.”

And that’s true. Teaching and learning are living, interactive processes, and I’m always grateful for the curiosity and dedication of my students.

On that note, please know that I always welcome your feedback: your questions, your opinions, your ideas, your suggestions, your criticisms. It is this dialogue that brings my work to life and energizes it. So please contact me with any interests you might have. If you’d like me to address a specific topic in an article, I’d be thrilled to do so.

So again, have a Happy New Year, and thanks for your interest in my work, your support and encouragement!

The Difference Between A Good Method And A Good Teacher

Most musicians that come to me for Alexander Technique lessons have a well-developed, highly detailed practice method that they follow. They have chosen this method deliberately, and typically follow it with an almost religious reverence.

And therein lies some of the problems that lead them to seek my help in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of a logical, purposeful, structured method of pedagogy based upon the principle of cause and effect (as opposed to anecdotal assertions by accomplished players that aren’t based upon repeatably measurable results).

But any method, no matter how sound, has one rather obvious limitation: It can’t respond to you. It can’t modify itself to best suit your needs.

A good teacher, on the other hand, is helpful precisely because he/she responds effectively to you.

It’s all a matter of the teacher’s sensitivity of perception and communication with you, moment to moment, week to week (and longer). How you learn, what’s helping and what’s not, what you are misunderstanding, where you need more practice (where you need less!), etc.

And most important, a good teacher can notice what you’re doing with yourself as you carry out your practice. Are you straining, stiffening, compressing? Are you creating an unnecessary struggle within yourself as you play? (This is where the skill of a well-trained Alexander Technique teacher can be of enormous benefit.)

You see, most of the musicians who come to me for help do so, in part,  because they’ve become inflexible with their method of practice. Inflexible both in the details of the method itself, and in carrying it out on a day by day basis.

At the very least, this leads to a sort of stagnation in progress, a sinking feeling that, “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to get past this plateau in my progress.”

At worst, this rigidity with method leads to more serious problem, such as repetitive strain injuries, chronic back/neck/shoulder pain, and even focal dystonias.

I ask my students to ponder the differences between teacher and methodology. And because they are ultimately responsible for the choices they make as they practice and study, I encourage them to ultimately think of themselves as their own teachers.

I’m not telling them to ignore the advice of their teachers. I’m just telling them that it’s easy to turn their teacher’s methods into rigid, inflexible, unresponsive practice habits. It’s up to them to be vigilant, to grow into experts on themselves and their learning process as they practice each day.

To become your own teacher is a lifelong skill. It’s something you strive to get better at. It takes lots of reflection, discipline, honesty, discernment, love, commitment and great attention to detail. (That’s the same, of course, whether you’re teaching yourself, or somebody else.)

But the main thing you need is responsiveness. You need to see which component of your practice method needs modification.

I’m very well-organized in my saxophone practice, and most definitely follow a method of learning that I’ve designed largely myself. I always have a “to do” list of particular exercises and study. Typically, this list is based upon a weekly cycle.

But a day in the week doesn’t go by when I don’t modify something from my weekly plan in my practice session. Alter a tempo, spend more time on one detail of a particular exercise, reduce or eliminate the detail of another,  sometimes throw out an exercise in its entirety. (In fact, by the end of the week, the routine I started with has morphed into something quite different.)

With each component (exercise, or detail of an exercise) of my practice routine on any given day, I’m either regressing (making it simpler and/or easier), progressing (making it more complex and/or challenging), or keeping it the same.

I make my decisions on modifying (or not modifying) the components on my routine by asking myself one simple question: “Is this helping me exactly the way it is?”

If the answer is yes, then I know to keep working on it until it needs to either be modified (progressed), or dropped, from my practice routine.

If the answer is no, then I have to ask myself, “What would I need to modify right now to make this more helpful to me”?

This is where creativity comes in. If it’s too complex and/or difficult, I need to find a constructive way to regress the exercise while still maintaining the pedagogical intention.

Regressing effort is a fundamental part of the art and science that any good teacher utilizes. The better I get with regressing effort for myself, the better I get with helping my students. And the better I get in helping my students, the more efficient (and satisfying!) my own practice continues to become.

Equally important is learning to either progress an exercise or to let it go entirely. I encounter so many musicians who are spending time needlessly on things that just don’t continue to help them improve.

So strive towards being a teacher as you practice each day. Go by principle, and follow a method. Just be observant, curious and flexible. If you do so, you’ll do nothing but improve.

New Book: Augmented Scale Diatonic Triad Pairs

largeAugm_Scale2

I’m very pleased to announce that my latest jazz etude book, Augmented Scale Diatonic Triad Pairs, is available for purchase and download.

The six-tone augmented scale (which is formed by combining two augmented chords a minor third apart) has a strong, energetic and angular quality. It has been slowly working its way into the modern jazz lexicon for the last 20 or so years. You can hear its colors expressed at times in the works of such artists as Michaeal Brecker, Mark Turner and Walt Weiskopf.

I’ve been working with these tonalities for several years now and have organized my explorations into book form.

In it, I introduce the scale itself (various patterns, inversions, etc.) and then show how it can be organized into diatonic triad pairs to create interesting and rather unique sounding melodic patterns that resolve beautifully from dominant to tonic.

There are over 50 pages of notated exercises (presented in a thorough and methodical manner) that get these sounds in your ears and under your fingers.

This book (like all my books) is available in pdf form for immediate download.

Click here to learn more about the book (including a free pdf sample page of the material).

If you have any questions, please contact me. I’d be very happy to hear from you.

And big thanks to all of you who’ve already bought some of my other books. Deeply appreciated!