I've been working on my proposals for this lately. They're consuming me a bit. During the time I'm spending on them I keep thinking I should be practicing. But, I'll admit, sometimes I find writing more satisfying than practicing.
Anyway, I had an insight. (yeah!) What if the things I like about writing, the things I excel at in writing, I could apply to horn? Now, I might be stretching it here a bit, but I'm into the extended metaphor lately. And in my list-maker spirit, I'll proceed.
1) Don't hold back.
When I write, I just let myself write everything down that comes to mind. My first drafts are really ugly- fragments, unorganized, random unnecessary thoughts (side note: I recently forwarded a draft of the proposal I'm working on to a professor who wrote me a letter of recommendation. Unfortunately, I forgot to remove the words "This paragraph blows" from the fifth paragraph, which is the paragraph I still thought needed a lot of work. Oofta.) But they have a lot of meat. They have content, ideas, and my voice. Once all of that is down on the page, I can do something with it. If it's never on the page, I can't.
I avoid a lot of things in my horn playing, because they might sound bad. Many things I need to work on never get into the room. That's silly. I like what DG said this summer, "Take the worst thing in your technique, and work on it until it's the best thing. Then see what the new worst thing is and repeat."
2) Work. Then Save.
One of the most satisfying things about writing is doing all the work and knowing it will stick. I can restructure an essay, change all my passive voices to active voices, and clear up a paragraph, hit save, shut my computer for two weeks, and when I go back, I know it will be there. Never a waste of time.
Often with horn it feels like I practice a thing, and the next day it has disappeared. Or I'm really working on something, and I don't for a few days, and it is gone. This is absurd. Why can't I make real changes that last, are effective, and I use every day? Actually, this problem is much much much better than it used to be. So I know I'm capable. Now I just have to stop futzing around and do it. A new goal: leave the practice room every day being able to do one thing you couldn't do before- permanently.
3) Demand excellence, not perfection.
When I write I am not thinking about making it "right." I'm thinking about making it great- effective, interesting, worthwhile to read. Of course I try to avoid spelling and grammar mistakes, because those get in the way of the message, but there is not this idea that it will be PERFECT.
Perfect performances are boring anyway. Not that I've heard one. But I would imagine that they would be boring. I remember hearing JZ perform the Brahms Trio at Aspen Music Festival. The first two movements were perfect, he didn't miss a single note. Then, during the first couple phrases of the third movement, he did. Don't know why, just did. All of the sudden the performance got much more interesting, I swear. There was a new intensity, a new level of expression. He didn't miss another note either, but he was much more engaged. It was like the point was no longer to play it perfectly, because that was shot-it was to play it excellently.
4) Enjoy the process.
One day in the cafeteria during freshman year of college, a friend of a friend told me why he was an English major. I had been complaining about writing (I used to not like it too much...). He said, "Writing gets fun when the process of writing takes you to new ideas. When the actual thoughts change and grow due to the writing of them down." I know what he means now. It is really cool.
We've all had those practice sessions where we're not watching the clock. More often than not, we are. But what if the goal of each session was to lose yourself in it? What could we accomplish then? What if every time you practiced, you discovered something? What if every time you played, no matter what, it was fresh?
5) Seek feedback.
I have no problem whatsoever asking for help with my writing. I've gladly turned over my proposal to 5 people, some strangers, some close family, and instructed them to rip it apart. Luckily, they haven't had to, but I wouldn't have minded. I enjoy getting their perceptions and advice in light of making my writing the best it can be.
I try to do this with my playing too, but it feels much more personal. This is ridiculous. How I play is not me, it's how I play. If I play badly, it doesn't mean I'm bad. I want to play the best I can- this means having other people listen and tell me what they hear. It might not be pretty, but I want to hear it.
6) Have a solid idea of what you want to say before you begin.
I'll confess I don't always have this when I write (you've all read the blogposts in which this is apparent). But everything goes more smoothly when I do. In attempts not to contradict #4, I will say that this doesn't mean your idea can't change, it just means that you have to start from somewhere concrete. No fishing around- it's not good for you, your reader, or the world at large.
As I was told multiple times this summer, I know how to play the horn. Now I want to forget that and say something. Make phrases, convey characters, engage listeners. To do this, I have to know how I want it to sound before the horn comes anywhere near my face.
Conveniently, this item is two-fold. Not only does it apply to performing, but to practicing technique. Playing an exercise or an etude is pointless if you don't know what you want to get out of it. As much as my roommate MT loves the sound of my high-range exercises, I think she'd be disappointed if she found out I was playing them just for her.
7) Be clear and direct.
No explanation needed, fittingly.
No more fuzzy notes or sloppy articulation. No questionable phrases or ignored markings. Enough said.
8) Take pride in your work.
I like what I write. I enjoy doing it, enjoy reading it, and enjoy other people reading it.
I can be proud of my playing, in the practice room, in rehearsals, on recordings, and in concerts. Especially in concerts- no more evaluating while performing. Doesn't work. I want to play out, like once I play it, it is gone from me. And I want to play so that what is gone from me I can see as an outsider, and like!
All right, enough writing...I need to practice.
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