Piano Blog

The Austin Piano Festival

Hello Pianoblog readers. If you're wondering where I've been these last several weeks I apologize. The truth is that I've been hard at work on something REALLY exciting in the Austin area. It's called The Austin Piano Festival and its going to be a blast! 

The festival brings several of the best pianists in the world together in Austin for a series of concerts and masterclasses from May 17th through May 26th. 

Solo recitals include world-renowned artists Kris Pineda, Christopher Guzman, and Spencer Myer -- all of whom will be playing some of the most beautiful and challenging works in the piano repertoire. Besides these concerts, winners of our statewide piano competition will participate in masterclasses with these artists and perform alongside them at our closing gala on the 26th! All masterclasses, by the way, are open to the public and provide the rare opportunity to see masters in the field work with budding young artists.

SO check us out - www.austinpianofestival.com - I'd love to see you there. And if you want to help out our young festival please tell everyone you know, post and like us on facebook, or even make a donation. 

You won't want to miss these amazing once-in-a-lifetime concerts. See you there!

 

Van Cliburn

One of my earliest, and still very vivid, musical memories was a commercial for set of Van Cliburn cassette tapes. I didn't know I was hearing the opening chords of Tchaikovsky 1 at the time, or who Van Cliburn was, but I was bowled over by the emotion of the music and danced around the house hoping I could hear more.

A few years later I got to hear Van live in person playing this concerto. I was too young to understand that he was past his prime. What I took away was the incredible magnetism and power that saturated the room. For days afterwards I was ecstatic to have been in the presence of a living legend; I'll never forget the feeling.

Van Cliburn was a musical hero and a great man; the kind of person and inspiration the world needs more of. Goodbye Van. You will be missed.

The Person Playing the Piano

In every task, the subconscious and conscious mind have specific roles to play, and a confusion of these roles can lead to less-than-optimal results. 

In ideal piano playing--where there is effortless flow-- the simplest way I can state it is this: the subconscious mind sends information up, the conscious mind "OK's" it. In other words, the conscious mind simply monitors, but does not judge or ask questions. (Is this a drastic simplification? Yes. But it does the trick.)

One of the distinctive mental features of performing under stress is that the conscious mind tends to kick into overdrive. It asks questions rapidly, tries to take over the playing process, and generally raises a big fuss. Unfortunately, the conscious mind has a very narrow bandwidth, and is actually unable to handle the incredible amount of information and physical tasks required in the playing of the piano. 

Pianists usually take one of two approaches to this problem (I suggest both). First, they train themselves to focus on something other than the actual playing of the piece. Usually they focus on the sound they are creating (instead of, say, the hitting of particular notes). With training, this is a great technique. Of course the problem is that any lag in focus and the conscious mind jumps right back in to trouble-maker mode.

The second method is to train the conscious mind to be aware of every single aspect of playing before performing. This method subsumes techniques such as mental practice, ghosting practice, analyzing, knowing the piece in sections, etc. The idea here is to allow the conscious mind to be active in the playing process, but so thoroughly prepared that it isn't overwhelmed by hyper-activation and can, in fact, relax. (The analogy might be something like taking a test on material you know inside out.) Ironically, this conscious preparation allows the conscious mind the resume its role as (intelligent) monitor. 

The next logical question of course is: OK but how do you know when the subconscious and conscious mind have been trained appropriately? After all, the big problem is that people play just fine in their living rooms, but have so much trouble in lessons and performances. How can they prepare for this correct mental functioning? And to that question I say: wait for part two.

To be continued . . . 

Video Recording for Music Lesson Checkups!

Hey y'all!

So a totally different format today. I'm going to do most of my talking off the cuff in the below video. The subject is: using video and audio to "check up" on students and give them tips during the week. I woke up today to several e-mails from students showing me their mid-week progress, and I'm just about to give them some feedback.

It's a great way to practice and its really fun too. Enjoy the video:

Persistence, Repetition, and Simplicity

A teacher once told me that the reason we repeat ourselves so much is the hope that someday our students will listen. Perhaps this isn't the most creative teaching technique, but anyone who has been teaching for a long time can identify with the sentiment.

Why do we teachers feel this way? One reason is that the most important concepts--the ones that really stick--are often the the most general. Even today, I found myself speaking for an extended length of time, only to realize that what I was saying boiled down to: "Listen to each phrase and play it beautifully". These simple ideas might seem general to the point of absurdity, but they take years to flesh out, and demand constant repetition if they aren't to be lost in the details of day-to-day practice.

As evidence of the effectiveness of general principles, I can associate every influential piano teacher I've had with one, maybe two, guiding ideas. Here's a short list off the top of my head:

- Listen to Yourself

- Create a Beautiful Sound

- Practice Intelligently 

I owe a great deal of gratitude to the teachers who mercilessly instilled in me these ideas. The first teacher who got me to really listen to myself did so through a combination of insults, unpleasant language, and threats. It wasn't fun, or even nice, but it changed my playing. It's easy be seduced by complexity--especially when you've been teaching the same thing for several years-- but the most effective teaching often comes from keeping things simple. 

Parents and Practice

I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating: all other things the same, daily participation in your child's practice is the number one predictor of music lesson success. 

What does it mean to practice with a child? The words "go practice" are simply not enough - especially with younger children. Before the age of 8 or 9, these words hold no meaning for a child, because the act of practicing--controlled repetition for a desired result--is impossible for a child to do well alone. Young children are not self-aware enough to control their mental habits during extended or complex tasks, and this makes solo piano practice almost impossible for them. 

The solution to this problem may not be easy, but it also is not complex. Every day, during your child's practice time, sit with him or her and work through the lesson assignments together. You don't need to be a drill-sergeant, but you do need to help keep your child focused, motivated, and on task. 

Some people think that monitored practice is too strict. This doesn't need to be the case however; you can and should allow your child to have fun and experiment after monitored practice is over. The excuse that twenty or thirty minutes of practice is too long a period to concentrate doesn't stand up to experience either. Children will adapt well to focused practice once a routine is established, and will be motivated by the skills they develop. 

The benefits of daily guided practice with your child are enormous. You will see progress that dwarfs previous experience, spend quality time together, teach the value of long-term applied effort, and greatly improve communication during lessons.  

The most common complaint--that parent and child are too busy to practice together--says more about modern parenting than is does time management. All effects have causes. If the effect you want is a child who is successful in music, help initiate the cause: intelligent daily practice.

Competitions in Theory and Practice

Competition, as we are all told, is as old as music itself; found even in the myths of antiquity like that of the competition between Apollo and the satyr Marsyas. Like Pan, Marsyas lost this ancient duel, and was punished in a most brutal way.

Luckily, the stakes are not quite so high in modern competition, but the pressure to perform has never been higher. Only fifty or so years ago, there were only a handful of major piano competitions, and placing in one nearly guaranteed a fruitful career. Today by contrast, a pianist can place in any number of international competitions and still struggle to find a modest paying teaching job.

As August approaches, we as teachers begin to plan for yet another round of competitions. For those of us who specialize in pre-collegiate teaching, there exists  a whole industry of more modest events. These are the festivals, grade-level competitions, concerto competitions, and music-teacher-association events that we all know, whether we like it or not. 

Here in Austin, like other areas of the country, the level of pre-collegiate competition is amazingly high. Forget about entering your 4th grader if she can't play a Haydn Sonata or Fugue from the WTC. Forget about entering your 9th grader without a polished Alborada del Gracioso.

This astonishing level of playing isn't something to denigrate. I'm deeply honored to hear it every year, and I have a lot of respect for the teachers who work behind the scenes with these talented students. Nor, if the following seems to take a critical tone, do I have any sort of "sour grapes" motivation - as my students do very well in these competitions. 

However, each year when I enter students, I always make a point of telling them what I think is the truth about competitions. There are three major points:

Competitions Are Not Indicators of Future Potential

The most prevalent myth surrounding competitions is that they are a good indicator of talent level or future success. This is simply not true--especially at younger ages. Does a 16 year old who can play La Campanella with ease stand more chance of developing a musical career than a rank beginner? Of course. But should a 5th grader who deeply loves the piano, but who places last in a competition, throw in the towel? Not at all. 

We are obsessed with the child prodigy, but we should be more obsessed with the artist who develops over a lifetime. In many cases, this means maturing in the later teens and early twenties. We hear so many child prodigies these days, that we forget that there's another path into the musical profession. I know many performing artists who did not even start until they were 10 or so; people with great careers in music.

Competitions Are Not Objective Measures of Performance 

I'm sorry, but we need to face this fact. A judge may prefer how one pianist looks over another; he may have had a great morning but a sleepy afternoon; he may have indigestion from lunch. You might play a judge's pet piece, but not in the way he likes it. Or perhaps you played a piece he hates. All of these factors and many more come into play during a competition. 

Too often parents are unaware of this fact. They are led to believe that this authority figure listening to their child has some sort of objective means of judgment. *Yes* it is true that some rough lines can be drawn about skill level--and there are some amazing pianists judging competitions who try their best to be fair-- but more comes down to individual taste than you might think. 

Competitions Are a Great Way to Motivate Practice

. . . but only when approached with a healthy motivation!

We should know not only what we are doing, but why we are doing it. Are we motivated by a desire to be our best, and by a healthy sportsmanship? Or, are we rooting our self-worth in the outcome of a competition. The former is a motivation that can be sustained through a lifetime, while the latter is sure to lead to pain and demoralization when, inevitably, things don't go our way.  

This question should be asked not only by students, but by teachers and parents as well. Are we interested in the happiness and long-term success of our students, or are we seeking a short-term boost of pseudo-self-esteem for ourselves?

The irony is that sometimes the first thing to be lost in a music competition is the music. The bland performance often offends the least judges, at the expense of the exceptional. And art, which at its core ought to be individualistic and self-unaware, is made a matter of social standing and group opinion.

I'm a strong believer that a committed student should put 110% effort into his or her musical goals. And there is nothing better than an upcoming performance or competition to help motivate this level of work; an eager student will always make greater strides with this sort of goal on the calendar. But he or she needs to be careful that the primary motivation is personal excellence regardless of ranking or the opinions of others, and not social approval and false self-esteem.

 

I Don't Want to Practice Piano

"What do I do when my child doesn't want to practice? "

Piano teachers hear this question a lot. I think it implies a more fundamental question: What is the nature of a child's wants and desires? 

The answer to this question can lead to two different parenting approaches:  One approach holds that every moment and decision of a child's day must be scheduled and controlled. The other approach says that a child should be allowed to do however he or she feels on the whim of the moment. 

I disagree with both approaches, because I think they both deny the fundamental nature of what a child is. A child is a potential adult, but not a fully formed adult. A child is in the process of forming values, learning his or her likes and dislikes, and forming a full psychology. 

So what does this mean? 

A child's values and psychology aren't completely formed. This means that a child's decisions and emotions will often be at variance with his long-term self interest. For example, a child might want to eat sweets and candy all day. Or she might love the piano but not feel like practicing because it requires too much effort. In such cases, the parent is obligated to reduce the number of sweets, or encourage or even mandate practice.

On the other hand, a child's values and psychology aren't completely plastic. Although he isn't an adult, he does have some nascent values and psychology. To deny this fact, or thwart early attempts at self-discovery is to invite serious problems down the road.

For example, if a child has a clear preference for drawing or some other activity, and yet you deny this in favor of hours of daily piano practice, you're heading for disaster. In a case such as this, an "I don't want to practice" isn't an out of context whim, but rather the correct response to a value contradiction imposed from the outside.

The answer then to "What do I do if my child doesn't want to practice?" is: "It depends." If your child has other interests, and has had piano imposed from the beginning, you should consider letting her explore. If your child enjoys practicing in general but needs a day off, then let her chill out. If your child loves music but won't practice because of the effort involved, it could be time to find some creative motivation or be a strict parent. If your child doesn't want to do anything, it might be time to look for someone more qualified than a piano teacher for advice.

Aristotle Agrees

Regarding my last post on repetition, it's good to know that even Aristotle agrees with me:

"It is from the same causes and by the same means that every excellence is both produced and destroyed, and similarly every art; for it is from playing the lyre that both good and bad lyre-players are produced. . . if this were not so, there would have been no need of a teacher, but all men would have been born good or bad at their craft."*

So, says Aristotle, if you want to be good at the lyre, or um. . . piano, you can't just goof around. The good and bad pianist both practice the piano (hopefully) but some of them become excellent, and some don't. The excellent people make a habit of it by repeating the right things over and over again.*

Thanks Aristotle. 

*Nichomachean Ethics 1103b10. My edition is the W.D. Ross Translation.

*There's more expicit stuff about repitition in his later sections on excellence. But that's the subject of a future post.

Keep it Simple

Playing a musical instrument is a complex task. Almost anyone could practice on a daily basis. But without guidance, there's a good chance this practice won't be beneficial in the long run. 

When a child learns to walk, for instance, he gets immediate feedback as to whether he's doing something incorrectly. (That is, he falls down.) But often the feedback you get with a musical instrument isn't so easily interpreted. You might play the right notes in the correct order but at the same time use your muscles or your mind in a way that hinders progress down the road.

But let's assume you're getting good guidance and the technical elements are more or less in place. There's an unavoidable fundamental to playing: automatization. You simply don't have a choice but to make the physical elements of playing automatic.

What does this mean? Repetition. 

The devil is in the details. They are important. But don't lose sight of the foundation of good practice. To become truly facile, you have to move to the level of the automatic. Watch any number of great musicians over time and you'll observe this simple common denominator: tireless, intelligent, repetition of the music.

Don't let details bog you down and sap your motivation. Keep it simple, over and over again.