Tag Archives: Alexander Technique

The Most Fundamental Skill You Develop When You Practice

There are so many reasons why the study of music is valuable (outside of simply learning to play better). When you practice, you are cultivating a multitude of useful skills: self-discipline, creativity, mathematical ability, aural imagination, and fine motor skills, to name but a few. You’re working “both sides of the brain”, so to speak.

But I think the most essential skill you develop when you practice is this: being able to expand your attention. Specifically, being able to constructively integrate and utilize multiple thoughts and bits of information simultaneously.

This skill not only helps you with many other things in life (part of this involves something called working memory, an important component of skilled learning), but also is absolutely essential in helping you improve as a musician.

I think it is (or should be) one of the primary aims of practicing music. In many ways, it sums up the greatest challenge of playing music with consistently good results: integrating body awareness, artistic intention, time, and aural perception (as well as any other necessary information) into one whole musical experience.

Stop for moment and think of all the things a symphonic musician (as an example) has to be aware of to perform well during a concert: The response, sound and pitch of her/his instrument; articulation; dynamics; the conductor; the notes on the page; breathing (especially for wind instrumentalists). And of course, a constant awareness of the pitch, articulation, dynamics, etc. of the other musicians. Not to mention things like artistic choice and expression.

Yet all this comes together seamlessly for the skilled performer as one thing, really. Just playing music. This is achieved through the discipline and experience of well-directed practice.

There is often an imbalance in this skill, however, with many musicians. Simply put, there is a disintegration of information: too much attention to one aspect of playing at the expense of not enough attention to others.

Perhaps trying too hard to hear pitch or tone color. Maybe too much emphasis on what the hands and fingers are doing (or the embouchure). And of course, too much attention placed on the notes themselves.

When this happens, the most crucial component of the musical process too often gets neglected: You. What are you doing with yourself as you play music?

Are you tensing your shoulders? Locking your knees? Clenching your jaw? Arching your back? Stiffening your wrists and fingers? Holding your breath?

How might these kinds of tension interfere with your ability to perform at your fullest potential?

Of course, you might find that the moment you bring all your attention to what you’re doing with yourself, you lose connection with the music. Maybe you even play worse. This is simply because you have not had enough experience putting this into practice. If you start learning to pay attention to yourself as you practice, you’ll start to reap great rewards.

One of my most dedicated Alexander Technique  students (a professional guitarist) would tell you the same. Each week during his lesson with me, we are working on his ability to expand his attention. He now easily and readily becomes aware of what he’s doing with himself as he plays, and direct his thoughts and energy quite effectively into the music making process.

I’ll ask him as he’s working very well on a difficult musical passage, “What are you thinking as you play this?” He’ll answer something like, “I’m thinking of my shoulders and neck releasing as I imagine the rhythms at this tempo, reminding myself to wait for each phrase and really hear my sound.” It’s not difficult for him to keep these thoughts going as he plays. But that has come after considerable practice.

The same with me. This morning as I was practicing saxophone, I found myself thinking about releasing my shoulder girdle (the area around the collar bones and shoulder blades) as well as my wrists softening, as I listened to the metronome while displacing an eight-note pattern by a half beat every other measure. All the time directing the flow of air into the mouthpiece and reed, and aiming for a dark, round sound (and really hearing it, too).

Even when I practice improvising, I’m able to keep this expanded thinking available. It is not a distraction to my creative impulses. On the contrary, it tends to free me, keeping me both calm and alert at the same time. Truly ready for the experience of creating music.

I realize in my own practice, that as I get better, I do so largely because I’m able to integrate multiple thoughts into one whole. The foundation of this skill starts with learning how to pay attention to yourself first. Even in the most challenging performance situations, I’m able to keep my thinking clear. (Practice helps with this a lot!)

So where do your thoughts go as you practice? Do you focus in on one thing only, losing touch with other important things? Are you able to keep aware of yourself as you play, or is this just another distraction? Can you easily hear your sound? Is the time always clear in your perception? Can you play creatively and passionately as you listen to yourself accurately, perceiving pitch, tempo and tone color?

I encourage you to aim for broadening your attention as you practice. Improve your thinking, and you’ll improve your playing.

Are You Trying To Hear Your Sound By Creating Excess Tension?

The other day, as I was working with a new Alexander Technique student, I encountered (again) a fairly common habit that many musicians have that usually leads to trouble. Allow me to share.

My student is a singer who came to see me because of problems she’s been having with vocal strain and intonation. As she told me: “I seem to start out okay (actually, she sounds very good), but after about 5 to 10 minutes of singing my voice becomes strident, kind of thin, and my intonation gets difficult to control.” She sang for me for a few minutes and confirmed her own assessment.

It wasn’t hard for me to see how she was creating these problems for herself. As she’d start singing I’d see her stiffening her neck as she thrusted her face upward and forward. This pattern of tension manifested itself through her entire body: shoulders pulled back, lower back arched, knees locked, unyielding ankles and feet.

So I began to work with her with my hands to help her find an easier state of balance as she was standing (without singing).  She was very responsive to the directions I was giving, and was really beginning to release much of her habitual tension: freer neck, widening shoulders and back, neutral pelvis,  softening knees, flexible ankles. She said she felt like “a whole new person”. All good stuff.

In Alexander slang, I’d say she went from doing too much, to a nice state of non-doing (leaving herself alone, to allow for a natural, virtually effortless balance).

I explained to her that this  state of non-doing was a very good place from which to start singing. It was like starting with a blank canvas, and could help her see how much tension she was creating when she sang. So I asked her to sing.

She went immediately from a calm, pliable, free state, to one of immense tension (same pattern as before: head thrusted forward, narrow shoulders, etc.) I asked her if she could sense all that tension she created as she began to sing, and she replied (with a certain amount amazement) that she could:

“Wow! I had no idea I was doing so much in my entire body to try to sing. Working way too hard…”

So I asked her to sing again, but with the thought of not going into that tense pattern, of leaving herself alone. But as she sang again, there was little, if any difference. She’d go right into that tense pattern again.

(This isn’t uncommon when encountering performance habits. They can be quite stubborn. Yet if addressed effectively and consistently, they can be changed. That’s what the Alexander Technique is all about.)

As we proceeded to work more with her singing, my student suddenly came to a great realization: “You know, I think I’m making all this tension in myself as an attempt to hear my voice.”

And she is absolutely right.

You see, to her (and to so many musicians) the sound  is more than what the ear takes in. It can involve other senses (feeling resonance, for example), beliefs (often also about what should be felt), and other expectations.

In the case of my student, she was trying to feel the sound a specific way. She said that’s how she was gauging her intonation. Yet by her own admission, her intonation was dubious as she created this tension.

So we worked on getting her to change her thinking. We shifted the goal from trying to sing well, to leaving herself alone as she sang: no face thrusting, no shoulder raising, no back arching, no knee locking. The aim was not to sing in tune, or even with a good sound. Rather, it was to begin to sing without going into her habitual tension. It would be a bit of an experiment.

In fact, I told her that if she sounded bad, even worse than she’d ever sounded, that she could consider herself successful in this experiment, because it shows she did something differently. She liked that idea.

Well, after a few takes, she finally had a moment when she started to sing without her habits. I had my hands on her, and could tell that she was leaving herself alone very nicely. She continued to sing for about 5 minutes. Her voice was clear, beautiful, consistent…and her intonation was spot on.

She was thrilled, to say the least. “That was hard. I don’t know if I could do that again”, she said. I assured her she could, perhaps not consistently at first, but eventually she’d be able to with considerable consistency.

I asked her, “How was your intonation? Did you notice it?” She replied, ” Oh yes, I could her my pitch so clearly and easily. But the strange thing was, I wasn’t trying to hear my pitch. I could just hear it, and knew it was fine.”

I explained to her that it was this “trying” to hear her pitch that was tempting her to create so much bodily tension, and that this excess tension was interfering with her ability to truly hear herself. That seemed to make sense to her. I’m excited to meet with her for her next lesson to see what else she’ll discover.

As I stated above, so many musicians I teach are struggling with the same habit: trying to feel their sound, both color and pitch, through excess bodily tension. Besides being counterproductive to the goal of a good sound and good intonation, it also carries with it the risk of strain, injury, poor technique and fatigue.

But there’s also something that comes with it that is equally negative. All that tension leads to a kind of physical and artistic prison when making music. You can become so dependent upon feeling your tension that you’re not free to experience the possibility of the unknown, the possibility of discovering something new in yourself as you make music.

So how are you when you play? How much tension do you create as you get ready to play your first note? Remember to allow your neck to stay free so that your head can balance easily on top of your spine. Let your shoulders widen. Don’t lift your chest and arch your back. Don’t lock your knees. Let the weight of your body travel easily into your feet as you let your ankles remain free and mobile.

Leave yourself alone as you play, and you’ll hear yourself so much better. To paraphrase F.M. Alexander, “If you stop doing the wrong thing, the right thing will do itself.” My experience as a musician and as a teacher (and student!) of the Alexander Technique affirms this every day.

The Nagging Truth About Chronic Pain And Injuries

Recently I was reading a thread on a Facebook page (for saxophonists) about chronic pain. The thread started out asking about the value of chiropractic work for musicians, then quickly morphed into a discussion of the merits and/or shortcomings of various modalities to address pain and injury.

Lots of experiences, opinions and ideas were offered up. Several of the participants stated that chiropractic was not addressing the root cause of the problem. They thought that simply manipulating the bones neglected the deeper issue of muscles, fascia, etc. (I don’t necessarily agree with this, by the way).

Others talked about the the value of a good physical therapist to address muscle imbalances and flexibility issues. Deep tissue work was endorsed with great enthusiasm by others. Iyengar Yoga, Pilates, Myofascial  Release, and other therapeutic work were also mentioned.

The thrust of the discussion was about getting to the root cause of chronic pain. Lots of debate about the hierarchy of importance of the structures of the body (bones, nerves, muscles, fascia, joints, discs, etc.) in preventing  pain and injuries.

Yet nobody once mentioned the real root cause of most chronic pain and injury: Habit.

Your habits of thinking determine your habits of posture and movement. Period. You move and maintain posture in accordance to your conscious (and even unconscious) thoughts. And what predominately causes pain and injury for musicians (and others, as well) are dysfunctional postural and movement habits.

When you practice your instrument, you’re repeating movement patterns over and over, hundreds of times in a single session. If you’re doing this in an overly tense and unnatural way, you’re going to invite problems.

To be clear, I think there is a great value in the majority of the modalities that were discussed above. Without a doubt, manipulative work (massage, chiropractic, acupuncture, Myofascial Release, etc.) can be highly effective for ending the pain by bringing the structures of the body back into a healthy balance. It’s often a great place to start to get quick relief from pain.

Well prescribed exercise (Yoga, Pilates, etc.) can also help to change the structural organization of the body, which can help significantly in the long run.

But ultimately,  unless you change how you maintain balance, posture, and how you move in general (with and without your instrument) throughout your daily activities (i.e., change your habits), chances are good that you’ll eventually return to having the exact same kinds of structural problems you had before treatment (or exercise program).

So what are your choices? You can continue to get the same treatment, viewing it as a kind of “maintenance” for your pain. You can try a new form of treatment or exercise and see if that makes a lasting difference.

Or you can learn to change the habits that are causing your pain. You can learn to replace tense, harmful movement with light, safe and easy movement.

Besides being a professional saxophonist, I’m also a certified teacher of the Alexander Technique, and I’ve found this Technique to be the most effective way I’ve yet to discover to make lasting changes in postural and movement habits. If it weren’t for this work, I would no longer be able to play saxophone. As it is, I’m playing better than ever. Completely pain and dysfunction free.

You see, the Alexander Technique goes right to the root of the problem: your habits and the thinking that shapes them. A qualified teacher can help you to become aware of the various harmful postural and movement habits you have, and give you the tools to prevent them, so you can make lasting changes for the better.

You’ll learn a new way to think about how you move, how you sit, stand, hold your instrument, use your breath, and more. You’ll clarify misconceptions about your body, and discover a way to move with far less effort and a minimum of strain. You’ll learn to move in accordance to the natural design of your body.

You’ll learn self-care strategies to rest your body and and restore your spine. You’ll even learn how to be calmer and more clear-thinking as you practice and perform music (or carry out any other activity, for that matter).

But most important, you’ll unlearn the habits that are causing the harm (the nagging truth about your chronic pain).

Sound too good to be true? It’s not. It does involve responsibility on your part, and a considerable amount of time and persistence (after all, you’ve spent a lifetime learning your habits). But it does work. Very well. One of my greatest satisfactions in life is seeing all the musicians I’ve been able to help by applying the Alexander principles.

Even the prestigious Juilliard School of Music knows the value of the Technique, and integrates it into its program to help serious musicians play pain-free and avoid injury.

So if you’re struggling with chronic pain, or suspect you have an injury, make sure you see a qualified physician first. It’s important that you rule out any kind of disease or other kinds of damage that must be addressed directly through medical means.

Ask your physician if any of your problems could be caused by dysfunctional movement and/or postural habits. If the answer is yes, then remember that you have a choice. Consider finding a certified Alexander Technique teacher in your area, and commit to taking some lessons. You can change. I have. So have my students. And for us, playing music is pure, pain free joy!

The Gifts My Students Give

Happy New Year!  2012 was a wonderful year for me (hope it was for you, too!) Lots of memorable experiences both in teaching the Alexander Technique to musicians, and in performing. My blog readership has grown exponentially and I feel thankful and encouraged by the positive feedback, requests and suggestions.

As I do at the beginning of each year, I’d like to reflect upon my teaching experiences from this past year, and share some of the highlights with you.

It is a well-worn cliché to say that “to teach is to learn”, but it is oh, so true. And this last year in particular has been rich in all the things I’ve learned from my students. I feel blessed by all the energy, curiosity and passion my students have, and thankful for how they gift me with their observations and insights. Because of them, I continuously grow and improve as a teacher, and feel thankful that I can pass on their wisdom to you, and to all my students.

I’ve had the privilege to teach students one on one in person, and to teach classes in the community and at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, where I’m a faculty member. But some of the most surprisingly rewarding teaching I’ve done this past year has been teleconferencing via Skype, in the role of practice coach to professional and amateur musicians. I’m still amazed at what can be accomplished through this medium.

So what I’d like to share with you here are some of the most common (what I deem “universal”) principles that my students discover and/or reaffirm as they evolve and progress in their musical learning journeys. I won’t elaborate much on each one right now, but most likely will write about them in depth in the coming year (and have already written about some of them on this blog). Here they are:

  • The ability to stop is the most essential skill you can cultivate if you wish to improve. Learning when and how to stop is the only way you’ll ever change your unwanted habits. Carrying on in the same, ineffective way only yields more of the same. And it leads to frustration.
  • The most essential aim of practicing your instrument (voice is an instrument, too) should be to give yourself good experiences. Rather than playing something poorly 20 times to try to find one good “take”, stop (see above), redirect your thinking, slow down a bit, and give yourself a chance to have the experience of staying in easy control of what you do as you play.
  • Managing your fear response is crucial. Almost every undesirable habit you have as a musician is some form (from mild to severe) of a fear response. (Yes, even when you’re practicing by yourself!) Learning how to change your thinking to deal with this will make you a better, much more consistent performer.
  • Pay great attention to the details of what you do with yourself as you play, but be careful not to micro-manage them. Be aware, but don’t put all your attention on one small aspect of what you do as you play (e.g., don’t obsess about what your fingers should or shouldn’t do as you play saxophone). You’ll make things worse, not better. Come back to being aware of the whole of you.
  • Their is a hierarchy in how you should direct yourself when you play. (This is specifically for students of the Alexander Technique) Always start with directing your head/neck relationship first, no matter what other problem you perceive in your playing. Free fingers depend upon free arms, which depend upon free shoulders, which depend upon a free neck.
  • How you “hear” yourself when you play involves more than just your ears. The experience you have of yourself as you play is multi-sensory: what you feel kinesthetically, what you sense in your skin, what you see, how you perceive balance as you sit or stand, even what you feel emotionally.
  • There is no such thing as having a “bad day” practicing.  Try not to judge an entire practice session as bad, as if you’ve wasted your time. You play moment to moment. If you don’t like what you’re hearing in any particular moment, change your thinking, and improve your playing. Instantly.
  • Be careful not to confuse cause with effect. Try to understand why things work they way they do. Often what you see other players doing that seem to be helping their playing is an effect of something else that they’re doing (or more typically, what they’re not doing).
  • You don’t know what it should “feel” like when you play well, nor should you care. You improve in your playing because you do things differently than you did before. Period. To improve, you’ll continue to do things differently. If you get too hung up on what it should feel like when you’re playing well, you’re looking to the past, instead of staying present with what’s really happening in the moment. This increases your fear response and usually leads to frustration. Trust your ability to direct and inhibit (again, this is for those with Alexander Technique experience), and you’ll achieve optimum results.
Each lesson that I teach, I’m brought back to these principles time and again. My students share with me through their own thinking processes and their own experiences how they solve their problems, often in rather ingenious ways, but always coming face to face with these (and  other Alexander) principles. It’s always so satisfying for me to witness the various manifestations of this problem solving method. So in this year, I encourage you to consider some of these ideas. See if it helps you to practice more successfully and enjoyably. Let me know. Best wishes for a fruitful 2013!

Refresh Your Thinking To Greatly Improve The Efficiency Of Your Practice

The quality of your practice is directly proportionate to the quality of your thinking. Contrary to what many musicians believe, you’re not “training muscles” as you practice, so much as you are directing your thinking so that your brain can readily coordinate the muscular activity necessary to play well.

Mindless, repetitive practice usually yields limited, often disappointing results. Deep practice, where you are cognizant of your specific, in-the-moment goals, as well as what you hear, and sense in yourself as you play, is what leads to consistent improvement.

If you practice when you are distracted (maybe you didn’t get enough sleep, are in an angry mood, worried, about something, really hungry, etc.), you know that you won’t do very well. In fact, you might even finish your practice session with the feeling that you wasted your time.

But what about when you’re fully present and focused for your practice session? Are there ever times when you need to check your thinking? My answer is a resounding yes!

The more efficient I become in my practice routine, the more I realize how important it is to refresh my thinking frequently. This calls upon my willingness to stop what I’m doing. To take the saxophone out of my mouth and regroup, so to speak. Not always an easy thing to to when I’m in practice mode. If I play a particular passage less than ideally, I want to jump right back in and get it “right”, without any thought about what I need to do to “get it right”.

But I’ve learned that stopping to check in with, and redirect my thinking is always a better choice than plunging forward again with another mindless, misdirected effort. It always makes the next attempt so much more efficient and constructive. So I’ve gotten pretty good at stopping.

After I’ve stopped, I usually refresh my thinking by asking myself a few simple questions:

  • Am I tightening my neck, shoulders and back?
  • Am I allowing the weight of my body to balance through my feet (when I stand as I practice)?
  • Am I mostly expanding or contracting (releasing or tensing)?
  • How is my breathing (effortless and quiet, or tense and noisy)?
  • Am I really listening to what I’m playing (as opposed to just hearing sounds)?
  • Am I clear about what my immediate goal is with this particular exercise, passage, etc?

I pause to ask myself these questions dozens and dozens of time as I practice. Then I return to my full stature (my full length and width), finding all the space in my body again, and recharging my senses. I return to the physical and mental conditions that I need to play my best.

I’ve gotten so good at it that I can make these assessments rather quickly, then get right back to playing my instrument. For me it’s almost like I’m pushing a “reset” button for my brain, or refreshing the screen of my computer. Everything seems to flow and fall back into place when I do this.

If you wanted to simplify it all, you could  ask yourself, “Am I tending more toward contraction or expansion as I play?” Included in this question (besides noticing your body) is your ability to listen to and hear yourself. Are your senses going inward (contracting), excluding the full experience of your sound,  or expanding outward into the room where your sound actually is?

If you ever feel yourself becoming frustrated and/or fatigued as you dig deep into your practice, consider this idea of stopping and refreshing your thinking. Taking time to pause and redirect your thoughts is never a waste of time when you practice. Never. You’ll find (as I and my students have) that by stopping briefly to refresh, you’ll return to the task of practice with greater focus and clarity. You’ll make fewer mistakes (which means you’ll spend less time making unsuccessful “takes” of whatever you’re working on). In short, you’ll get more done in less time. Really.

Plus, you’ll develop a good  standard for awareness that you’ll bring into your performances. All good news.

And if you’d like to stop and take a slightly longer moment to refresh your thinking, you might want to think to yourself the Alexander Technique directions:

I allow my neck to be free, so that my head releases upwards on top of my spine, (I don’t tense my neck and jaw, jamming my head downwards into my torso)

so that entire torso can lengthen and widen, (I don’t tense my shoulders, back and ribcage)

so that my knees can release forward and away, (I don’t tighten my pelvis to draw my legs up tightly into my hip joints; I don’t lock my knees.)

so that my heels can release into the ground. (I don’t tense my feet and ankles, so that I allow the weight of my body to go through my feet)

These directions are a good description of what happens as you release tension and expand back to your full stature. If you practice using them consistently, you’ll get consistently good results (both I and my students have).

But whether you use these directions, or ask yourself the kinds of questions that I’ve listed above, or simply remind yourself to pause for a moment to regain your stature and your clarity, make a point of stopping to refresh your thinking.

Make it an aim as you practice, and acknowledge and reward yourself with encouragement when you’ve succeeded in doing so. Ask yourself, “How many times was I able to stop and redirect my efforts in the 15 minutes I’ve spent working on this particular exercise?” Notice that when you do this, you play with much less tension, and greater clarity and consistency. Make this a part of your practice habits, and you’ll be pleased with the results.