Friday, January 16, 2015

Some piano thinking

Right now, my lessons are on hiatus (long story but: teacher drives in from out of town, she works at a job that ends at 5 pm, she doesn't want to be driving the long way home, across a bridge, in the dark of evening. I respect that but I hope she starts teaching again (as she suggested she might) when we go back to DST. Because for one thing, that will actually give me something to look forward to about Daylight Saving, which I normally dislike, because it means I drive my (short) commute to work in the dark again)

I've been practicing on my own. Mostly working on a couple of standards (one, "Dream a Little Dream" that I had worked on with her but I felt I just hadn't perfected yet, and a new one, "A Fine Romance," which I'm not very far into). I'm also slowly going back through the Bach Anna Magdalena pieces I've learned, and also going to attempt the ones I haven't. (I'm working on a Minuet in G right now, it's the third one in the book I have but it's tricky because it has some arpeggios in it)

The thing is, I get frustrated and discouraged easily. I'm not progressing as fast as I think I should. I still make mistakes, even sometimes in pieces I've played a hundred or more times. I'll probably never be that good.

(And I have the added challenge of having small hands - my reach is only about an octave, or an octave plus one on a good day. I have to rework some of the chords to work for me)

I don't know. I suppose it's because I've only ever really heard professionals play, or hear people play at church where I'm maybe focusing on the words of the hymn and don't notice a single infelicitous note in a chord or something. And I suppose my perfectionism is coming into play here. But I find myself thinking, "Darn it: you've played that first minuet (this one) out of your Bach book so many times; you should be able to play it every time without making a mistake. (And I can play it sometimes without errors, just not always, or not frequently enough to satisfy myself).

Because that's what holds me back from ever playing for anything: the fear that I can't trust my hands well enough not to make a mistake. Come to think of that, that was my problem with playing in small groups or performing solo back when I played the clarinet: I felt I couldn't trust the instrument, or the instrument plus my embouchure, not to mess something up and squeak or give a sour note or something.

I don't know. Maybe a lot of the CDs of performances I have are just people who have been playing for far, far more years than I have (this spring will mark 6 years) and with that level of expertise the mistakes get squeezed out, and I just need to be patient with myself. Or maybe some of them are studio recordings put together from the best of many takes. (I wonder, is that the musical equivalent of Photoshop? Or maybe the musical equivalent of Photoshop is Autotune?)

And yes, I can play with fewer errors now than when I began. And yes, I can see myself getting better on things as I work on them - most recently, the arpeggiated on (this is a screenshot of the very beginning of it).

And I admit: part of me goes, "These are BEGINNER pieces. You should have MASTERED them already." But part of me just kind of enjoys perfecting my ability to play them, being able to put in the "correct" dynamics (at least, those recommended by the compiler/editor of the volume I use) and do stuff like the, what's it called? In baroque playing where you raise the volume just a bit on ascending runs, and lower it on descending runs? (I knew what that term was, once).

Someday, I want to be able to play the entire Anna Magdalena book, so I'm working through it piece by piece. My goal is to run quickly through the pieces I've "mastered" and then work more on the ones I haven't yet.

I don't know. I really honestly don't know where someone who's been taking lessons on and off for six years "should" be, if I'm doing okay or if I'm just really really behind and maybe should consider giving it up because I'm just no good at it.

And yeah, this is probably all partly influenced by an orchestra teacher years ago who made the implication I was wasting his time and mine trying to learn the clarinet. The bigger implication being that I had no musical talent and should stop trying to force myself to have some. And yes, there's a world of difference between a no-talent hack who still thinks they can perform for a living and make money, and someone who maybe isn't so skillful at playing an instrument but still wants to try for their own fun and enjoyment and learning. And I fall into the second group, but I admit, at times, that orchestra teacher's words haunt me a little.

(I suppose the secondary lesson that could come from that is, if you teach, be careful how you give criticism to students, sometimes it may have a greater effect than you ever know. Then again: I've had a few students that I really wanted to bluntly tell, "No. Don't go into medicine.")

3 comments:

Diann Lippman said...

Do you enjoy playing piano? If yes, then keep it up. If no, and it stresses you out, don't. I took lessons for 10 years, and have played once or twice a week for at least 40 years and make mistakes all the time. I play for my own amusement and enjoyment; I'll never be good enough to play for others (and I get too nervous when I try) for it to be enjoyable. I do love to sit down and play Bach just because, and I do try not to make too many mistakes but if I do I promise it doesn't hurt anyone.

And yes, I have heard professionals make mistakes even in concerts. They're human. I can't remember now who it was that made a mistake and actually stopped and said "Let's start over and I'll do better" - the orchestra and audience loved it.

Roger Owen Green said...

I think you may be too tough on yourself. And what Diann said, including the stuff about misteaks.

Lynn said...

Professional musicians typically practice many more hours than someone with a "day job" ever possibly can. It varies from person to person but I have heard of as much as six hours a day for some classical musicians.

Do it for yourself and laugh at the mistakes.