You Know What It Sounds Like, Play Great!

When I brought my clarinet to  one of Arnie Lawrence's sessions, he said, "Play like Barney Bigard," the clarinet player in Duke Ellington's band. Obviously, and Arnie knew it, there was no way I could play remotely like Barney Bigard. If I could, I would be giving Arnie's music workshops. So what did he mean?
This morning, after practicing flute for nearly an hour, I noodled around on the instrument, following the advice of a wise and inspiring musician, Raul Juarena, under whose direction I got to play a few years ago. Suddenly, I found myself blowing freely into the flute the way I ordinarily don't do, and the sound was thrilling. I couldn't believe I was producing that sound. I was, in Arnie's words, for a minute or two, playing great.
So why don't I play that way all the time?
Partly it's because I'm trying to learn difficult music, and I have to concentrate on getting everything right, the notes, the dynamics, the phrasing, the articulation....
But mostly, it's because I inhibit myself. I know I can't play great, so I don't try, because, if I try, I'll fail and be disappointed. Better to play cautiously.
Playing great means playing riskily. It means accepting the risk of reaching the end of your abilities and smashing up against that brick wall.

Diminishing Returns: Practice Doesn't Have to Make Perfect

Last night the saxophone quartet I play in managed to rehearse again. We've been playing together for two years or so, but in the past six months, for one reason or another, we haven't been able to meet regularly. Now, for example, it will be more than a month before we can get together again.
Last night we played a couple of pieces we hadn't been working on regularly and were surprised at how well they went. Sometimes it's a good idea to put things aside for a while.
You can only work on something for so long, before you get bored with it and start making new mistakes. When you get to that point, you have to stop and let the work you've invested gradually sink in. The more you go over something, the less spontaneous your playing becomes. You don't sound fresh. You stop discovering new things in the music.
There's always a fine line between mastering a piece of music, so you're confident you can play it in public, and playing with too much control.
The other group I play with is a wind orchestra. Our conductor chooses difficult, challenging music for us and makes us responsible for learning how to play it. We're going to play two concerts in a couple of weeks, and the performance will be far from polished. Does it matter? We're amateurs, and everyone knows it, so no one expects the Israel Philharmonic. We'll have fun playing, and, most probably, the excitement of performing in public will raise the level of our playing.
I like the conductor's attitude. You don't improve unless you play challenging pieces that are a bit beyond your ability - but not so hard as to be frustrating.

Brilliant Young Musical Talents

On Saturday night we went to the concluding concert of the masterclass under the guidance of maestro Murray Perahia at a the Jerusalem Music Center. Eight pianists between the ages of fourteen and eighteen played extremely demanding works with a wonderful mixture of youthful enthusiasm and maturity. Each one was better than the last, and I'm sure that most of them could become successful performers if they continue in that path and are fortunate.
They all played with great skill, and clearly they have invested hours and hours of practice to attain the high level of musicianship they displayed that evening. Obviously they haven't had the time to develop the repertoire expected of a top concert pianist, and their performances might have been lacking the depth of mature musicians, but they have acquired the foundations they can build on.
I found myself thinking that if you aren't great when you're a teenager, you probably will never be great.
And also that the potential of gifted young people, if they are motivated, guided, given the opportunity, and placed in a supportive environment, is almost magical, and not only in music.
I'm not in favor of musical education aimed solely at picking out the most gifted kids and training them to be professionals, and I'm not in favor of pushing kids, but of giving students a chance to blossom, to explore and develop their abilities, to find their own field of excellence. Obviously I don't know the young people who played at the concert, and I couldn't have been more impressed by their performances, but, on the other hand, it might not be terribly disastrous for them if they didn't perform till they were in their twenties, for example, unless they are totally drawn to performance. Not every gifted fifteen-year-old is capable of performing before a demanding audience - or interested in doing that. Also, not every fine musician is built for the rigors of an international career, with constant travel and enormous pressure, the sense that you're only as good as your last performance. If that's the only kind of career they're being trained for, and if they think that any other outcome would be tantamount to failure, that would be sad.
I hope that these young pianists are receiving wise and empathetic guidance along with their fine and rigorous musical training.