Tag Archives: Alexander Technique

Practicing Music: Paying Attention To “How” Instead Of “What”

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“The experience you want is in the process of getting it. If you have something, give it up. Getting it, not having it, is what you want.”

-F.M. Alexander

On of the great temptations when I practice my saxophone is to try to “memorize” how it feels in my body when I’m playing well. Fortunately for me, I rarely ever yield to this temptation (anymore). If I did, I might find myself losing touch with the most important element of my progress: the thinking process I use when I play my best.

It’s easy to disconnect our consciousness from our activities by aiming directly for a feeling  of the result we’re after. In the language of the Alexander Technique, this is working along the lines of the “end-gaining” principle. When we end-gain, we bring all our attention and effort directly to achieving a desired result, without sufficient consideration to the process of how we can best achieve that result.

When I do this practicing the saxophone (or engaging in just about any activity) the results are usually less than optimal. This is because I’m being guided by an unreliable source: my habit.

For better or for worse, we are typically guided by habit, and our habits have a certain feeling of “rightness” to us even if they aren’t helping us. (F.M. Alexander described this as an unreliable sensory awareness.) Much of my progress in playing the saxophone since I started applying the Alexander principles has involved learning to not be guided by the feeling of my habits to achieve the results I’m after. Instead, I aspire to be guided by my reasoning, by what I can honestly discern.

Alexander said that rather than going after our desired results directly (guided by the less than reliable sensations of our habits) we would be better served by paying attention to the quality of the process we use to achieve those results. He described this as paying attention to the “means-whereby”. In essence, it is a matter of being more “process oriented” than “results oriented”.

And so I’ve found over and over, both as teacher and as performer, that giving the quality of process top priority is the best way to insure desired results. Consistently.

This is not a new idea. If you’ve ever read the Tao Te Ching, studied Zen, or experienced many of the other forms of eastern mindfulness disciplines, you’ll regularly encounter this idea. It seems to be universally true.

Before I discovered this principle, I practiced in quite a different manner than I do nowadays. I really got no sense of satisfaction from my practice session unless I felt certain certain things as I practiced. “Does it feel right?” was becoming more and more of an indicator of success or failure in my practice attempts.

As a result, not only was I not allowing myself to change and grow as much as I could, but also, I was feeling frustrated by the inconsistencies of my efforts. Not to mention that a lot of what I was hoping to feel was actually nothing more than unnecessary, habitual muscular tension. It wasn’t helping me at all!

These day when I practice, I’m giving my thinking process top priority. This often manifests itself into deeply mindful work, as I pay attention to the quality of how I’m using myself as I practice.

This primarily involves two things that were missing from my pre-Alexander practice sessions:

  1. Letting myself stop frequently to prevent habitual tension patterns, and to understand specifically what went wrong (what I’d like to prevent).
  2. Allowing myself to slow things way down to connect my thinking to the activity (particularly when working on technically challenging material).

As I do this, I’m always coming back to discerning the quality of my own use as I play saxophone. Where am I stiffening unnecessarily? How is my balance? Am I mostly contracting or expanding, tightening or releasing? How is my breathing? Am I rushing ahead in my thinking, or staying with myself (and the music!) in the present moment? Am I tense and anticipatory, or am I flexible and yielding?

I’m not using these thoughts to distract me in my practicing process. I’m simply using them as the criteria for discerning if what I’m doing is really what I want to be doing.

When I approach my practice in this manner, I’m staying with (quoting Alexander, above) the “getting it” rather than the “having it”.

You may have heard the saying, “To play faster, you have to practice slower.” Part of the reason this works for so many technically brilliant performers (I’m thinking here of the great clarinetist, Eddie Daniels, as he describes his approach to gaining technical fluency and velocity), is that it gives them a chance to really process what they’re doing.

Add to this paying attention to the quality of how you are using yourself, and you have a surefire recipe for continued, consistent progress.

So next time you’re having a really good day practicing, when everything seems to be going well, take time to notice some things. Notice the quality of muscular tension in your body, specifically through your head, neck, shoulders and back. See if you can understand what your not doing that you normally would do (where are you not working so hard, not tensing so much). Then observe your own thinking process. See if you can connect this kind of thinking to the ease that you have in your body as you play your instrument.

Remember, it’s your thinking process that determines the quality of your playing more than anything else. By shifting your attention from what you are doing, to how you are doing it, is a big step in the right direction to cultivate the kind of thinking that helps you the most.

The Importance Of Not Knowing

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“In the mind of the expert, the possibilities are few. In the mind of the beginner, the possibilities are infinite.” -Ryo Suzuki

It is natural for us to want to know. It’s what fuels our growth, our curiosity and our inspiration. Without knowing certain things, life itself would become quite difficult, if not impossible.

But sometimes we don’t know something when we think we do, and that’s where problems can arise. We anticipate the outcome of certain things based upon our erroneous preconception of what we believe to be true. This often manifests itself in lots of misdirected energy.

I’m speaking specifically here about how you perceive yourself as you play music: how you anticipate, measure and dispense your energies in relation to the music making process.

One of the more interesting things that I notice when I return from vacation (after not playing my saxophones for a week or two) is how different that first day of practicing is. I often find myself being able to do things technically that I couldn’t normally do before. Why is that?

Well in the simplest sense, it’s because I “forgot” that I couldn’t do these things. It’s been a couple of weeks and my preconceived limitations have sort of slipped from my memory.

Many of my music students report a similar phenomena: that first day of practice after a vacation, where anything is possible. As many of these students also report, by the second day, the magic is usually gone, and they’re back to where they were before (or maybe even a bit worse, being “rusty” from missing a couple of weeks of practice).

But it doesn’t have to be that way. You can use this as an opportunity to observe the quality, and amount, of effort you use as you play music, and contrast this to what you do normally (habitually). What I and many of my students find is that we are creating far less muscular effort to play our instruments on that first day after vacation. (Again, probably because we’ve “forgotten” how much effort we need to play.)

Instead of having a knowing mind, we approach our instrument with an inquisitive (unknowing) mind. This is probably helped along by the fact that we are giving ourselves a chance to sound bad. After all, it’s been a couple of weeks, so no big deal if it’s not up to snuff. Often, having this kind of resignation has the effect of letting us let go of misdirected effort.

So when I come back  to practicing after a brief hiatus,  I use this phenomenon of not knowing to set a new benchmark for what is possible in my playing. I use it as an opportunity to observe my thinking. I notice, not so much what I am thinking, as what I’m not thinking.

As an example, I find myself not anticipating rapid passages with any sense of preparation (no unnecessary brain chatter). I’m just letting myself play. Same with playing in the extreme registers of the instrument. In essence, I stop “getting ready to play.” I simply play, and discover as I go along, how much effort, how much tension, how much energy I need.

And I aspire to carry this attitude into my playing each day, maintaining the my beginner’s mind.

Usually what I do at the start of my practice session is to produce a sound on the saxophone with as little effort as possible. This usually means that in the first few minutes I get no sound, other than the air going through the mouthpiece (not vibrating the reed.) As I begin to increase my energy, coupled with my intention, I gradually begin to get the reed to vibrate, and I learn how much effort is necessary in that moment, in that room, with that particular reed, to create a sound.

From there I continue to gradually increase my efforts until I’m getting a sound that pleases me. Just the right amount of effort to express my sound. All because I let myself discover, not knowing until I get there. I approach my technical work the same way. How little effort does it take?

One of the aims of the Alexander Technique is to help you learn how to gauge the appropriate amount of tension for an activity (musical or otherwise),  by observing the relationship of the head, neck and back.

When there is too much effort, the neck usually tenses and shortens, which causes the back to narrow and stiffen, which then interferes with everything else (hands, breathing, mouth…you name it). Alexander called this head/neck/back relationship the primary control, as it is primary in conditioning the coordination of the entire organism. (Both my teaching and playing experience confirm this principle to be true without exception.)

In the Alexander Technique, you learn how to carry out your activities without this tension. As you do, you discover again. You discover over and over that you can do things with even less effort than you thought. It is a life long journey of discovery.

You never really know how little effort it ultimately takes to play your instrument (or do anything else, for that matter). You learn only that you can always do less, and that as you do less, you get so much more.

So whenever you have these instances of seemingly effortless playing, playing that is beyond what your normal limitations are, observe your thinking and your body. Notice how free your body is, how much less tension than normal you are bringing into the music making process. In particular, notice your neck, shoulders and back, see how freely they work together. Notice how easy, mobile and confident your balance is.

Then go back to noticing your thinking. How are your thoughts different than when you normally play. Make a real study of the differences. Keeping a practice log is especially helpful for this. The muscular effort you create in your body is a direct result of your thinking. Improve your thinking, liberate your playing.

Managing Performance Anxiety

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Performance anxiety, whether mild or debilitating, is nearly a universal human condition. It is not only musicians who struggle with it. Anybody who has had to “deliver the goods”, on the spot, in real time, has probably experienced some anxiety. Performing artists, athletes, as well as business people, educators, (and just about anyone else) have all probably felt anxious before an important performance, presentation, or public appearance.

Many musicians are reluctant to admit to having performance anxiety. They see it as some form of weakness, or character flaw. I’m here to tell you that there is no shame in being anxious about a performance.

There might be a variety of reasons why you become anxious before a performance, but that all have one thing in common: your love for music. You want to put out the best musical expression you can. In short, you get anxious because you care. If you didn’t care you wouldn’t become anxious.

You probably wouldn’t perform that well, either. Because if you don’t care, you won’t play well. You must care. So if you do care, but have problems with performance anxiety, read on.

In the language of the Alexander Technique, performance anxiety occurs because of “end-gaining”. When end-gaining, you take yourself out of the present moment, and bounce back and forth between regretting what you’ve already played, and dreading the unknown outcome of what you will be playing. You stop paying attention to process, and place too much of your attention on expectations and results.

It’s important to realize that a musical performance, like all other human activity, is a step into the unknown. And the best way to step into the unknown is to remain in the present moment, always paying attention not only to what you’re doing, but also, to how you’re doing it.

You can’t control the unknown, but you can control to a large degree your reaction to the unknown. The first thing to do is to accept whatever feelings you have in the moment, whether it’s fear, worry, enthusiasm, anger, or anything else that might arise in you. That way you can observe the changes in your body as you react to those feelings.

Performance anxiety, which triggers a fear response, manifests itself as a series of challenges or obstacles that interfere with your ability to perform to your fullest potential. Some of these are:

  • Shallow and uncontrollable breathing
  • Overly tense muscles
  • Loss of balance
  • Unclear thinking
  • Dry mouth
  • Moist hands
  • Impaired sense of time
  • Trembling

The list could go on, I’m sure.

From a practical point of view, a primary interference in your ability to perform well is excess muscular tension. If you’re causing your muscles to become unduly tense and rigidly over-reactive, you seriously impair your ability to create the necessary movements to play music.

And when I say movement, I mean all movement, including the movements involved in breathing. If you’re interfering with your breathing, you face even more problems. (If you play a wind instrument or sing, I don’t have to tell you why that’s a problem.)

But even if you don’t play a wind instrument or sing, there is another equally serious problem that arises when your breathing is uncontrolled and shallow: Your thinking becomes unclear. When this happens, you forget important details of the music, lose touch with time and pitch, and make mistakes that you never made during practice. We’ve all been there before.

If you’re going to reach your potential as a performer, you must learn to prevent some of this excess muscular tension.

So what causes these symptoms of performance anxiety to arise in you? The answer is simple: your thinking does. If the thought of performing causes fear, a whole host of changes will take place in your body.

The good new is that you can also use your thinking to prevent (or at least attenuate) these conditions that arise in you that are counterproductive to performing at your best.

I’d like to offer some ways you can redirect your thinking to help you better prevent the negative manifestations of the fear reaction that accompanies performance anxiety.

I’m not telling you how to stop being afraid. Rather, I’m giving practical advice that will help you perform better, even when you are afraid and anxious. Though this might seem like a lot to think about, remember that most of these things can be thought of in an instant, and in that instant you can make a huge difference in how you perform.

Before the Performance:

Acknowledge your fear (as opposed to denying it), and notice how it specifically manifests itself in you physically. How is your breathing? Where are you tightening up in your body? This will give you an idea of what specific responses you wish to prevent.

Again, you might not be able to prevent the feeling of fear, but you can gain control over many of the tense response patterns you make because you are afraid. That in of itself will significantly improve how you play. As a bonus, when you consciously reduce your tension in this way, you gain an immediate kind of confidence that helps you regain your clear thinking.

If you have a chance before the performance, calm yourself by being relatively still and restful. Let yourself stay present with this stillness and restfulness.  This is a great time for constructive rest. Also, some breath work (such as whispered “ahs”) is helpful not only to control your breathing by lengthening your exhalation, but to calm your nervous system as well.

At the Start of the Performance

Before you actually play that first note:

  • Bring your attention to your breath by noticing the air moving in and out of your nostrils, and  see that your breathing is quiet (no gasping or sniffing).
  • Bring your attention to your head, neck, shoulders and back , noticing (and releasing) any excess tension
  • Check that your knees are not locked, and that your legs are not overly tense. Think of your knees as releasing away from your hip joints, and away one from the other. In other words, let your knees soften.
  • If you are standing, bring attention to your feet, letting your weight go completely through them so that you can release up and stay in balance. Think about your heels as releasing down into the floor, and let your toes spread out onto the floor. (Don’t curl your toes.)
  • If you are sitting, let your weight go through your sitting bones, letting your feet rest easily on the floor. Again, don’t curl your toes.
  • Let your arms and hands soften, releasing any unnecessary tension. You can think of your shoulders as releasing away one from the other.
  • Shift your emphasis from trying to play well, to using yourself well while you play, breathing and moving easily. Remind yourself to take your time.

As you perform, and as time and circumstances permit, refresh some of the above thoughts. The most important are:

  • Awareness of breath (allow it to move in and out quietly)
  • Head, neck and back, releasing unnecessary tension
  • Softening your knees.
  • Letting your heels release your feet into the floor
  • Letting your arms and hands soften
  • Return back to your breathing

This is something that needs to be practiced. After all, I’m asking you to pay attention to yourself primarily, as you perform music (not so easy at first). The great educational philosopher, John Dewey, called this “thinking in activity”, and it is what the Alexander Technique is specifically aiming for. You are developing a highly valuable skill.

I can assure you from my own experience, that when you learn to pay attention to yourself in this way as you play music, you will play better. You are the primary instrument. You make the music. Keep that in mind.

If you take advantage of each performance as a chance to practice some of these things, and develop this skill, you’ll greatly improve your ability to manage your anxiety (and will greatly improve the quality of your performance).

Check with yourself, asking a basic question: “Am I enjoying this or am I afraid of something?” Pay attention to your reaction to this question, and see if you can notice how your reaction might interfere with your ability to perform well. Be patient, evaluate yourself with kind discernment, and allow yourself to grow and explore.

The Sum Total Value Of Non-Doing

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Some years back, after I’d been studying the[ for a couple of years, a friend of mine, George McMullen (a highly accomplished trombonist), came to hear me play saxophone at a concert in West Los Angeles. He hadn’t heard me play in quite a while (since before I started studying the Alexander Technique).

After the concert ended, George came to talk to me and said, “You’re sounding great, but very different from the last time I heard you play. What are you doing differently?”

I remember answering him, spontaneously and without hesitation, “The real difference in my playing is not because of what I’m doing. It’s because of what I’m not doing.”

And that’s about as truthful as I could be. You see, what I wasn’t doing anymore was playing with all my old habits of tension: I wasn’t tightening my neck as I pulled my head back and down into my shoulders. I wasn’t tightening my left shoulder as I pulled my arms in toward my rib cage. I wasn’t thrusting my pelvis forward. I wasn’t locking my knees. I wasn’t clenching my jaw to produce my sound.

I was playing well, playing better than before, because of the sum total of what I wasn’t doing. F.M. Alexander (the founder of the Alexander Technique) said, “If you can stop doing the wrong thing, the right thing will do itself.” This turns out to be especially true in the act of playing music.

By playing my saxophone without my habits of tension, I become free to play in such a way that is in concert with my human design. I Become free to direct my energies most efficiently toward the act of producing a sound, and otherwise playing my instrument. And the results, as my friend could hear, are palpable.

And as I continue to teach the Alexander Technique I’m rewarded with seeing remarkable improvements in musicians as they learn the art of non-doing. Practically any musician, on any instrument (including voice) can improve how they perform by following this principle.

An example that comes to mind most recently is my experience teaching a young violist who plays in the local youth symphony. He came to me (as do an alarmingly growing number of young musicians) because of chronic tension and pain. His condition was worsening to the point that he couldn’t practice more than a few minutes without experiencing rather significant pain and muscular exhaustion.

As I observed his playing in our first lesson, I could see the manifestations of the tension that was causing his problems: stiff neck with his head pulled forcefully downward onto his instrument; left shoulder being pulled tightly upward and inward (impinging the muscles at the shoulder joint); breath being held; torso being twisted and held rigidly too far back; knees locked as his legs stiffened.

Though these are different things to observe, they’re all really part of one entire pattern of tension that is brought about by my student’s reaction to the thought of playing his instrument.

So I proceeded to help him the same way I helped myself (through the principles of the Alexander Technique). I helped him to become aware of all the unnecessary “doing” he was bringing into his playing (tension!), then I taught him how to change his thinking so he could stop doing so much (playing without so much tension and misdirected effort).

This is a process that takes persistence and time to make lasting changes. (But lasting changes are made!) He has to keep coming back to his tendency to go into his habit of tension, then make a conscious decision to not indulge in his habit as he proceeds to play his instrument. Simple in principle, but not always immediately easy to carry out. Again, persistence and time.

It’s been a few months since I started working with this student, and already things are much better for him. No more shoulder pain. No more neck pain. No more exhaustion. And what makes it all even better, is that his sound, intonation, technique and even his artistic expression have all noticeably improved.

So at our last lesson, in which my student was playing particularly well (easily, expressively, joyfully), I asked him if he could tell me what is different about how he was playing now in contrast to how he played before taking lessons with me. He, too, without hesitation answered with a list of things he wasn’t doing anymore: “I’m not scrunching my neck; I’m not pinching my left shoulder; I’m not twisting my body downward; I’m not locking my knees…” And so on.

He (like I was/am in my Alexander learning process), was very clear about why he improved, and that improvement had a great deal to do with non-doing. When he stops doing the wrong thing, beautiful, expressive, easy music is free to come forth.

And that’s the way it always is with musicians (and non-musicians) who study the Alexander Technique. They become very clear at why they are improving, at what they’re not doing anymore.

So if you notice yourself playing with great effort, notice yourself stiffening up as you play, feel blocked expressively, feel unstable as you make music, or lack confidence in your playing, consider the idea of non-doing. Notice what kinds of tension you begin to create in yourself as you go to play, and simply ask yourself if it helps you play better, or interferes with your playing.

Understand that all the the necessary skills to play your instrument well are already there, waiting latently. All you have to do is stop doing the things that interfere with this skill.

Of course, you can be greatly helped with this by a skilled Alexander Technique teacher. Consider taking a series of lessons from a qualified teacher. Allow yourself to discover the value of non-doing, and experience the possibility of positive change.

A Simple, Highly Effective Tool For Avoiding Fatigue And Injury

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Well timed and well directed rest is one of the most important elements for a serious musician to maintain and develop a healthy practice regimen. Unfortunately, many musicians neglect this crucial element, sometimes looking at rest as a necessary evil, something that steals precious time away from “real” practice.

But truth be told, it is rest in any activity that optimizes effort. All effort and no rest leads to fatigue, lack of inspiration, compromised technical habits, unclear thinking, and injury. I could write volumes on the when and how much of effective rest. Instead, I’ll introduce you to a highly effective way to practice resting that is taught and used regularly in the Alexander Technique. It’s called constructive rest (also referred to as active rest).

In this rest practice, you lie down in a semi-supine position (on your back with your knees bent and feet on the floor) on a firm surface (e.g., a carpeted floor) with something  firm to support your head, such as books or magazines. Your arms are bent at the elbow with your hands resting on the side of your torso, somewhere between the bottom of your ribcage and your hips. You also leave your eyes open (remember it’s called active rest) so you can keep your senses in tune with your body. It looks like this:

Simply lying in this position for 15 to 20 minutes at a time can work wonders for you. Here are just a few of the benefits of constructive rest:

  • It helps to restore the length of your spine by letting your back and neck muscles release into their natural resting length.
  • It allows for your intervertebral discs (the soft cushions between your neck and back bones which absorb shock) to re-hydrate to their optimum thickness (this too lets your spine get back to its resting length).
  • It allows your breathing to return to an easy, natural and well-functioning state.
  • It calms your nervous system, clears and centers your mind and brings you back in touch with the present moment.
  • It helps you to become better aware of your habits of tension (and helps you connect thought to gesture to reduce your tension) thereby giving you a better gauge of effort and tension when you play music.
  • It puts you into a state of calm alertness, readying you to play music at your highest level.I’ve been practicing constructive rest for many years now, with ever increasing benefit.

For me it’s as essential as sleep, food and hydration to stay healthy and play my best. If you have chronic back and/or neck pain, this procedure can greatly reduce or even eliminate your symptoms. Here are the basic instructions for lying down in the semi-supine position for constructive rest:

Find a reasonably quiet place. If possible, allow yourself fifteen or twenty minutes to lie down.

Lie with your backside down on a flat, firm surface, e.g., a carpeted floor, or a wooden floor with a yoga mat or thin blanket beneath you. Do not lie down on a bed, cot, or sofa, as these surfaces are too soft and will not allow for the necessary feedback your body needs to release muscles.

You should also place something firm beneath your head for support, such as a few thin books or magazines. The height of this support will vary with each individual. If too high, the chin will be too close to the chest and will not allow enough space in the front of the neck; if too low, the head will tend to go “back and down” the spine, thus discouraging the natural lengthening process. Try different heights and find one that encourages the least amount of tension in the entire neck:

Too high

Too low

Good height

Once you are on your back, bend your knees to bring your feet flat onto the floor. Keep your heels in approximate line with your sitting bones. Your heels should be about twelve to fifteen inches from your buttocks.

Keeping your arms out and away from your torso (think of your arms as hands of a clock at 4 o’clock and 8 o’clock), bend your elbows to bring your palms to rest on the sides of your torso where your ribcage meets your abdomen. Make sure your hands are not touching one another, and that there is plenty of space between your ribcage and elbows:

Shoulders narrowing (arms too high)

Shoulders widening (better arm position)

Check your breathing by observing the flow of air in and out of your nostrils. Keep your eyes open during the entire session, from time to time noticing your environment. Scan yourself for any unnecessary tension or holding that you might be doing. Observe any changes within yourself that might take place. Rest and enjoy!

That’s all there is to it. By simply lying in this manner you activate great release and positive changes. If you like, you can also add the Alexander Technique primary directions. This is a simple set of mental directives to give yourself to encourage length and expansion in your body. They are as follows:

I allow my neck to be free, so that my head can release upward off the top of my spine.

I allow my entire torso to lengthen and widen.

I allow my knees to release forward from  hip joints, and for one knee to release away from the other.

I allow my heels to release into the floor.

You simply think the directions, but don’t do anything about them. In fact your entire aim should be to do nothing at all. Non-doing we call it in the Alexander Technique. Just let yourself rest.

You can use this tool anytime you like. In my musical practice, I tend to use it as follows: I usually lie down for about 5 or 10 minutes before I practice to help bring me to the state of calm alertness I need to play well. When I take brief breaks during my practice (5 to 10 minutes) I’ll also lie down.

Or sometimes I’ll take a nice long break in my practice session and lie down for an entire 20 minutes. When I do this I feel completely restored (mind, body, spirit) and ready to resume. I often do this when I have an unusually long practice day.

Also, if I’m at a gig where space permits, I’ll lie down before I start and during the intermission (or sets). I’ve been told that in the U.K. (where the Alexander Technique is widely known and practiced by professional musicians) you can see 40 or more musicians lying down back stage during the intermission at orchestral performances.

So incorporate this highly effective tool into your practice routine. If you can’t manage 15 or 20 minutes, do it for 5 or 10. It will still help. Remember, rest is part of the process to improve, so don’t look at it as time wasted. Balance rest with effort and you’ll greatly increase your chances of staying healthy, injury free and energized as you practice and perform.