Meeting Them Where They’re At

As I have continued to add new students to my studio this summer, I am constantly reminded of how vulnerable we can be as musicians.  We put it all out there, bare our souls, and lay a very personal expression on the line for comment and criticism every time we pick up our instruments or sing.  For most of the students in my studio, not only are they struggling with their musical vulnerability, there is a fair amount of personal vulnerability at stake as well given their age and stage of development.  Not only do they wonder if their musical presentation will meet with my approval week after week, they wonder if I like them and value the time I spend with them each week.  While I try very hard to make each student feel like the special individual in my life that they all are, one student reminded me of what an important endeavor this is for all teachers to remember.

I had a first lesson with another new student this past week, and when I asked how long the student had been playing, the student turned a bit pink and mumbled about not being sure.  Surprised by this reaction and trying to get a ballpark estimate, I asked if they had played through the whole previous school year or not.  The student answered that it’s hadn’t quite been that long.  I continued to ask my usual questions about why they chose their instrument and what they liked about music and such, when the student gets rather quiet and says “I’m really bad at reading music…and rhythm too…I’m really bad.”  I was completely taken aback by such an unexpected confession, and I really wasn’t sure what to say.  I hadn’t heard the student play yet so I asked the student what made them think that about their playing.  The student shrugged and said that they just had a lot of trouble and couldn’t read the notes and rhythms.  I asked the student to find a piece that they had worked on recently and that they knew very well.  The student played the piece very proficiently with only a few technical problems and I was very pleasantly surprised.  I encouraged the student in the fine job they had done and assured the student that it was hard work to learn a new piece, but it was something that this student was very capable of and had just demonstrated.

From there I pulled up a new piece and asked the student to read it.  Compared to the last piece the student played, this one was complete and utter disaster.  There were several confused notes, confused strings, but most of the rhythms were pretty well in-tact.  I asked the student what was most difficult about playing that piece and what was the most intimidating thing about it which was again met with a nondescript “notes and rhythms” response.  Then the student made a comment about not having the piece memorized and the whole thing clicked.  The student has been learning pieces more or less by ear and has done very well, but when confronted with a note-reading situation has a very difficult time forming the piece together with no aural reference.  This is a common problem for students depending on their musical background and former training, and once I put it together with this student I understood so much more about the frustration and embarrassment that came along with playing the violin.  This student had found a system that worked, but only to a point, and now starting with a new teacher had to come in and start fresh and wonder what would happen if the new teacher found out the student’s secret.  Would the teacher be able to continue to work with the student?  Would the teacher think the student was a bad player?  Would the teacher not like the student anymore or think he/she was a bad student?

There were other indications that there might be other self-esteem and confidence issues going on in life right now, but I tried my best to assure this student that I was so happy they were in my studio and that it was going to be my distinct pleasure to give my undivided attention to our lessons every week.  I think we ended on a good note, and hopefully I can work with this student to dissect the issues at hand and build up the technical skills while boosting confidence in the clearly strong abilities this student possesses.  It will be interesting to watch this student grow and develop as a musician as well as a person, and I look forward to having the opportunity to positively impact the student’s life in any way I can.

“Teacher-y Tidbit”- Make sure your students always know how much you care about them and their place in your studio.  Students bring so much more baggage to their lessons than we realize sometimes, and some are even fighting with the notion that they “can’t” do something.  Whether they formed that notion themselves or someone else in their life did it, we need to be so keenly aware of our words and actions to meet them where they’re at and be ever encouraging and building up students when helping them through their musical struggles.

The Adventures of Super-Plunk (and other stories)

First, my recital is over!  Thank you all who have followed me through the journey of preparation, the struggles and the triumphs.  It all paid off and I am very pleased with my performance. There are a few spots I would love to take back and do over, but on the whole I feel it was a very successful presentation.

This week I was completely struck by my students’ creative imaginations with regard to their instrument and repertoire.  I try to use engaging, creative methods for teaching technique or trying to make challenging or seemingly dull skills interesting and fun as much as possible, and sometimes my students give it right back to me.  It started with one of my younger students who has been struggling with 4^th finger for a few weeks now.  This student has the technical skill for the motion and ear to hear the intonation, but often lacks the confidence to just go for the note, especially if the music has a larger leap to get to the 4^th finger.  With the song we were working on today, it was a jump from 1^st finger to 4^th finger that was giving us trouble.  We’ve tried finger taps, slow practice, and several other focused exercises, but when it comes time to jump to that 4^th finger the student chickens out every time and walks the fingers up instead of what I call “plunking” or placing all the necessary fingers down as a group.  We had a conversation today about how we just need to go for that finger and not be afraid of it being slightly out of tune, because that can be fixed next, but we just need to get there.  I compared the student’s hand to a superhero  who laughed in the face of musical peril and always plunked away to save the day and that this superhero needed to muster that confidence to be able to save the day in the nick of time.  The student lit up with a grin and said “We could call me Super-Plunk!”  Soon we had a whole saga of Super-Plunk possibilities, and while the student still wasn’t 100% convinced of the power that could be wielded there was more motivation to keep trying.  While I was chatting with the student’s mom after the lesson, I couldn’t help but notice a caped-figure being drawn on the corner of the page and I cannot wait to see what Super-Plunk looks like next week.

One of my older students had a similar creative burst this week.  We’ve started working on a duet that is simply called “A Dramatic Story”.  No further guidance is given as to what the story is about or who the characters are, and being a little longer piece than we’ve worked on previously this student found it daunting.  I encouraged the student to take it in pieces and try to figure out what is happening in each segment of the story and sort out some of the details as it was practiced throughout the week.  Tonight the student came in with a huge smile and couldn’t wait to share the story.  I opened the page and saw notes written all over giving directions about style and bits of the story line as it was occurring, character names, and set locations.  It was as if the student had written a ballet or silent play to accompany the piece, and it was wonderful!  It started out with a Romeo and Juliet type of forbidden love story, and then there was intrigue, danger, escape, magic, dancing, battle, and victory.  The student had me hooked, I could not wait to start playing and see how it all turned out.  As we played it, the student asserted more leadership playing the top line of the duet and also had a lot more variety of articulations, phrasing, dynamics, and overall characters than I’ve seen previously.  The piece truly came alive for the student this week and it was really neat to see the student’s creative abilities in other areas spilling over into music and making something really special.

On a more whimsical note, my last student today was playing a song called “Song for Maria”.  The student got about 2.5 measures in when suddenly the student stopped and turned to me with a quizzical look and said “is Maria a frog or is she supposed to be a person?”  There is nothing on the page or in this book or that we have discussed to my knowledge that would have suggested that Maria was anything other than a person, so I chuckled and said that I thought she was probably a person.  “Why do you think she is a frog?” I asked, to which the disappointed student replied “I don’t know.  It just sounded like frog music!  It would be so much cooler if it was a song about a frog!”  I said I didn’t see anywhere that Maria had to be a person, so we dubbed Maria the Frog and played an ode to fair amphibian and at the end I had to concede that it did indeed sound like “frog music”, which pleased my student greatly.

“Teacher-y Tidbit”- whether it means inventing new superheroes, setting music to a story, or learning to play “frog music”, find ways to tap into your students’ creative sides.  They have so much outside of music to offer, and in lessons and rehearsals it can be easy to be all business all the time.  There is a lot of overlap between music and other disciplines that can be creatively explored, and students don’t need much encouragement to use their imaginations.  Use the gifts they have to broaden the scope of your classroom or studio and you might find new ways to engage them that you never knew were there.

Seriously? That’s it?

Now that we’ve got some nicer weather back for a bit (it was pretty cold and gross there for a week or so), I feel like the creative juices are flowing once again in my studio.  Students have been coming in with new songs they learned just for fun, songs they memorized, a tricky spot they finally worked out, and pieces from school orchestra that they were trying to figure out.  It was the same story every time.  They bounded in with an ear-to-ear smile and could hardly stand it until they gushed about the new amazing thing they had worked on this week.  One student came in and when I asked what they were so excited about they simply said “Guess what?  I practiced!”…I felt the urge to let out an exasperated wail, but stifled it and said “Terrific!  Now, wouldn’t it be nice to feel like this at every lesson?”  Their excitement was infectious.  Even the “practicer” roped me into the giddiness of having had a successful week of preparation and looking forward to the next half-hour in a way they haven’t before.  However, what the student expected from tonight’s lesson and what actually happened were two different things.

I distinctly remember one lesson when I was in high school which I went into with the same elation as my students had this evening.  I had mustered the discipline and was determined to get my parents off my back for a week and actually practice like I was supposed to.  Maybe it was a New Year’s Resolution, I can’t remember, but I went into my lesson feeling like the very picture of preparation and expecting the next forty-five minutes of my life to blissfully breeze by as my teacher sang my praises for being such a model student and playing so well.  Boy, was I wrong.  I finished my etude and stood there with a satisfied look on my face which gradually disintegrated into disappointment as I realized there were not going to be any statues erected in my honor.  My teacher simply said “Good!  Now let’s get to work…” and went on to point out my first weak point.  That was it, just a “good”?  Didn’t my teacher know how hard I’d worked to earn that “good”?  And furthermore, did it even matter?  Did my teacher even care?  Looking back, I’m absolutely sure my teacher knew how hard I’d worked and did care, but I’m also sure it was thrilling to have an opportunity to actually work with me for a week instead of listen to me practice.  I hadn’t earned any medals or the writing of epic poems by diligently practicing that week.  I’d earned a solid lesson to kick myself into gear for the next week, and the next, and the next after that.  I put in my time, and now it was my teacher’s turn to hold up the other end of the deal.

The more I teach, the more I understand how education is really a symbiotic relationship.  Teachers can only teach as much as their students allow themselves to learn.  When a student comes unprepared to a lesson, the teacher has to spend time cleaning up last week’s mess and doesn’t have the same opportunity to push the student to the next level as they do when the student comes prepared.  The same was true of my students this evening.  For some, hearing them play tonight was a breath of fresh air.  Finally we would be able to start the ascent from the plateau we’ve been on lately, or finally they were ready to handle a more advanced technique.  I saw the same look of satisfaction disappear as I caught myself saying “Nice job!  Ok, let’s go back to measure four”.  The shine in my students eyes quickly vacated and I could almost hear the “Seriously?  That’s it?” that was written all over their faces.  I didn’t make the connection until my third student, and then I hurt for them because I knew exactly how they were feeling.  However I also felt a great deal of sympathy for my former teacher finally truly understanding how it must have felt that afternoon.  While I greatly admire and respect different approaches to this type of situation I’ve observed, I thought about how some of my other teachers have responded.  While none of them have written me that epic poem, some have been more generous with commendation than others.  They began by remarking on what they were pleased with in the performance, especially if it had been a point of consternation in previous weeks, but they also made it clear that because I gave them something to work with they were now going to give me more to work on.  I really like this approach because it still recognizes that the student worked hard and did well, but reminds them that they haven’t ultimately done anything extraordinary in the grand scheme of things.  It may be extraordinary considering their track record, but in reality all they’ve done is what is expected of them.  While every student and situation is different, I think I’m realizing that the key to finding the happy medium between these two approaches is to respond to the student in such a way that makes them want to continue to meet and try to exceed your expectations each week.  Because isn’t that why we do what we do?

“Teacher-y Tidbit”- Find the happy medium that works for you and your students and always be clear about what you expect.  There are few things more discouraging than trying to meet expectations that are constantly elusive.  In addition, help students understand what they can expect from your lessons and rehearsals so that they can be equal members of your educational symbiosis as much as possible.

I’m Not Buying It Yet

I’ve been stuck on a theme that keeps coming back to me this week. It actually started in my Pilates class where our instructor is constantly reminding us of things we need to be sure to tuck and squeeze in order to maximize our workout. During one particularly grueling segment with an inflatable ball between our knees while doing a sequence of crunches, we were supposed to be squeezing the ball while our instructor kept saying things like “Squeeze the ball like you mean it! Pretend it’s my head! I’m not buying what you’re selling with the squeezing of the ball! Convince me!” Once my body had time to recuperate and I forgave her for trying to kill me, I got to thinking of how much that applies to music performance. As I continue to prepare my recital repertoire, I am confronted with conflicting feelings of connection to and distance from my music. While I know the pieces intimately, sometimes I just play the notes and other times I feel like I breathe and the notes just appear. After recording myself and listening from a third-person perspective I can tell that I’m not yet 100% committed. It’s not a convincing performance, and I’m not buying it yet.

What does it mean to give a convincing performance? In some ways it’s like watching a BMX event. When the performers are building up to their big feature stunt, sometimes they get to the bottom of the ramp and realize they just aren’t feeling it and abort at the last minute. In music performance this “chickening out” might mean shirking an intimidating shift or not being really committed to a string crossing, or even just zoning out in a passage that isn’t as active as others in the piece. Another aspect to a convincing performance is playing so that all the little notes speak. This has been a particular challenge for me in (you guessed it) the Bach as well as in my Bloch. The Bach has a lot of slurred 16^th notes and sometimes I get so frantic about tempo and making it to the end that I sound like I’m running to catch a bus and as a result some of the notes get lost in the shuffle. In the Bloch I have a number of runs that often end up sounding more like one long glissando instead of individual notes. I have to keep telling myself that I have more time than I think I do and that these guys wrote all of those little notes so they could be played and paid good money to have someone copy them all down so the least I can do is make sure they all have their moment. The more I play and listen to performances the more I realize that it is the little notes that are the real stars of the show. They can make all the difference in the world in a piece so long as we don’t stifle them, and this goes a long way towards producing a truly convincing performance. When I take a moment to breathe and take time for each note I feel more relaxed, calm, smooth, and like my playing is actually taking the piece somewhere besides just the end.

Sometimes I think students struggle with the concept of giving a convincing performance because they just don’t understand it or aren’t quite mature enough to grasp the deeper levels of the music yet. In addition it can be easy for them to get hung up on the technique we’re constantly feeding them and forget to still make music too. As a young violist, my teachers would often make decisions about bowings or fingerings that I didn’t understand or didn’t particularly like because I’d spent the week practicing it a different way. I am sure there were excellent reasons for those decisions, but it was like the piece was my teacher’s and I was just playing it. In an effort to avoid similar feelings from my students, I try to always explain why some suggested bowings and fingerings make the most sense, or give them an option between two possibilities and let them choose and discuss why they like one over the other. Where there is room for more expression and different interpretation I make sure they are an active participant in the process so that they can feel more connected to the piece and better equipped to sell the audience on their performance.

A final thought I received in my lesson this week was from a master class my teacher once attended where the clinician challenged the participants to consider a different approach to performance. Typically we think of reaching out to the audience and projecting into the stands taking the music to them, but instead the clinician encouraged performers to invite the audience into their space to share the music on the performer’s level. I had never thought about this before, but it is such a neat concept and gives the performer a different role, responsibility and focus than they have had previously. I’m not quite there yet, but hopefully once I have had time to ruminate and integrate this into my playing I will be able to hand my audience an engraved invitation with poise and confidence and convince them to come and join me.

“Teacher-y Tidbit”- Every student will play at least one piece in their life that they just aren’t really feeling connected to, but anything we can do to engage them and help them to take ownership of the music can go a long way to convincing themselves and the audience with their performance. Help them to craft and deliver performances that make you and their audience want to buy what they’re selling.

Clearing Out the Cobwebs

Update:  My student who was going to perform in a school talent show came in very excited today saying that the talent show was an amazing success!  I was so proud, the student said it went terrific because “I played really good, people liked me, and I remembered to turn and face the audience!”  There was even a standing ovation, just like I knew there would be.  The student said there was a mix of excitement and nerves but mostly excitement, which I was so pleased to hear.  I can tell that this experience left a lasting impression on this student, and I hope that joy continues into future performances.

With springtime being more or less in full swing, spring cleaning is not far behind.  I know in my own home there is dusting to be done, winterized windows to be re-opened, and there may even be a few winter decorations that need to find their way back into their boxes until next season.  In the same way that people are apt to spruce up their homes and yards at this time of year, I find it is also a great time to spruce up some key items in my private studio as well.

A few weeks ago I posted about the pre-Spring Break cabin fever that was going around, however this week marks the first week back to school for most of my students.  It’s amazing the difference a week off makes, especially with the lovely weather we’ve been having.  While no one is thrilled about going back to work, students came in all evening much more chipper, alert and ready to get to work than they have in a few weeks.

As enthusiastic as they were, it was also clear that not much practicing had been done.  I don’t have much room to talk having taken the better part of my break off as well, but it was amusing to see students’ solutions for their lack of preparation.  As one student was unpacking their instrument, I casually asked (as I always do) how things were going.  I made no reference to the violin or practicing or anything, but I was suddenly met with a barrage of excuses of why it had been impossible to practice including “my dog tried to eat my bow”.   Another student attempted the opposite approach, coming into the lesson “business as usual”.  When it became apparent that this was the first time the student had played since their last lesson, the student gave me a sheepish look to which I responded with an is-there-anything-you’d-like-to-tell-me look, at which point the student asked me to check the placement of their bridge because “my violin never sounded this bad before today”.

While the majority of my students were less than prepared for their lessons this evening, and some sounded like they had completely forgotten how to play in a week, I realized this was a very good opportunity to do a little spring cleaning.  One student has had a great deal of trouble loosening up the fingers in the right hand.  While the student has shown diligence in their bowing exercises, not much lasting progress has been made.  After a week away from the instrument, we were able to go “back to basics” and reconstruct the bow hand shape, and I realized what the problem had been all along.  By the end of the lesson, we had laid the foundation for a whole new level to this student’s bow technique which has been holding us back for weeks.  Another student who has been struggling with a few intonation issues in one piece finally was able to hear and fix the problem.  They had gotten used to hearing it out of tune, and although we are constantly tuning that spot, the student has not been as focused with their individual practice.  Coming back after a week, the student heard the passage with fresh ears and it was like a neon sign.  Several of my other students this evening had similar “fresh perspective” experiences, and I’m confident that once we all get back into the routine that we’ll not only be able to pick up where we left off, but we will surpass our previous progress in no time.

In my own playing I have been able to productively woodshed some problem spots that have been hanging me up lately.  It’s been a week of dusting off the tools that I’ve neglected recently to really fine tune a few places where I’d plateaued.  I also got a new A-string and some new rosin.  It’s pathetic, I know, but I might be most excited about the rosin at the moment because it’s kind of a goldish green and sparkly.  It’s the little things in life, right?  All sappiness aside (pun very intended), it is greatly encouraging to feel like I’m getting a fresh start into spring.  T-minus 51 days until my recital, I’ve definitely got my work cut out for me, but the finished product is in sight and it’s shaping up to be something really special.  If anyone needs me, I’ll be in a practice room with a Swiffer and some Endust clearing out some cobwebs.

“Teacher-y Tidbit”- While obviously lack of student preparation should never be encouraged, when it does happen try to make the most of it with a little “spring cleaning”.  Find opportunities to give your students a fresh perspective on technique as well as their own playing, and be willing to take them back to the basics if necessary.  While it might take a few weeks and maybe even a few steps backward at first, in the long run they will have sharpened their skills and gained a deeper understanding of why we do things the way we do them when we play.