| Sam
Hasegawa
The Art of Practing: A Guide to
Making Music from the Heart
by Madeline Bruser
|
Since music is one of the most communal forms
of art, it's strange to think how solitary much of the process of
music-making turns out to be, how many hours musicians spend playing
or singing alone, practicing. As I'm sure is true of many musicians,
I've always had ambivalent feelings about practice. On days when
you sound good and are clearly making progress, practicing is intensely
pleasurable and exciting because you're playing as you would want
to in a real performance. On days when the sound isn't there and
you struggle, practice becomes drudgery or, worse, a kind of torture
that leads you to question your ear, your talent, your creativity,
and all those other qualities that inform your desire to express
yourself musically.
I recently discovered a book that provides a fresh
look at what practicing is really all about and a new way of approaching
it. The
Art of Practicing takes as its basic premise a simple
idea: that when we practice, we should exercise the same sort
of spontaneity characteristic of a good performance. We should
allow our preparation to be permeated by the same feelings of
openness, uncertainty, vulnerability, aliveness, freedom, and
awareness of the moment that we feel when we perform live.
To accomplish this, Ms. Bruser proposes a program
consisting of ten steps. Each of these steps involves doing something
that directly relates to what we go through when we perform. The
first step, for example, is to do a series of basic, gentle stretches
before playing. The idea is that performers on the day of a concert
instinctively take good care of themselves, try to relax, avoid
stressful situations, and eat well to be ready to perform. To
practice well, you also need to take care of yourself, and stretching
is a simple way of both relaxing and energizing the body to prepare
to play.
Similarly, the second step, settling down in your
environment, is something basic that happens in a performance.
Think of what it's like to see a great pianist take the stage,
the ease and assurance of the walk, the extraordinary presence,
the elegance of the gestures, the calm, precise way of sitting
down at the piano, the deliberate pause and stillness before striking
the first notes. In practicing, we also need to take the time
to be present in the moment, to situate ourselves where we actually
are before we start to play.
The other steps consist of techniques involving
aspects of practice, with such topics as tuning into your heart,
using your body in a natural way, following your curiosity in
deciding what to practice, recognizing when you're struggling,
really listening to what you're playing, and being attentive to
the sensations of touch and movement.
The jazz pianist Bill Evans, in the liner notes
to his solo piano album, "Alone," noted that perhaps
the hours of greatest pleasure in his life came while playing
the piano all by himself, without an audience. "In retrospect,"
he wrote, "... these countless hours of aloneness with music
unified the directive energy of my life." I believe that
all musicians are hoping to make that kind of discovery while
working things out alone in practice. In The
Art of Practicing, Madeline Bruser has provided a wonderful
guide that can help us transform our routine and uninspired practicing
into the surprising, creative journey that we naturally want it
to become.
* "Bill Evans Alone." Solo piano. Verve
Records: digitally remastered and released on CD in 1988. Originally
released in 1969. Liner notes on the original LP by Bill Evans.
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