Not all practice hours are created equal...

Sometimes while I'm in traffic I have epiphanies.  My friend Megan and I both do this a lot.  She tells me of the times that she will be sitting at a stoplight, writing the next chapter of the deeply profound novel that she's constantly writing in her head, when all of a sudden she'll be startled back to reality by someone honking behind her.

I can totally relate.  I write in my head a lot too.  Especially while in the car.

During this morning's car-writing experience, I came to verbalize something in my head that I have long-known to be true in my subconscious.  And it made me laugh a lot when I came to grips with this phenomenon, which is that for a musician, not all practice hours are created equal...

I know, right??  It's soooo true.

This came about mostly because I had an awesome practice day yesterday and then had a relatively useless practice session this morning which came to an abrupt halt when I realized that I had errands to go take care of that I'd henceforth completely forgotten about.  Seriously, Katherine... why do you do that to yourself??  Write it down.  And then don't forget to look at it.

Anyway, once I started thinking about this, it reminded me of all the times in undergrad when I would dutifully head to the practice room and get absolutely nothing accomplished.  One morning I remember stopping to chat with my theory professor on my way to practice, and as we were parting he told me he'd better let me get going so I could take my coffee on up to the practice room and spill it in the piano.  He was of course joking, but his words were scarily true.  I confess, it's a miracle I made it through undergrad... it wouldn't surprise me if the back stairwell of the MU music school still smelled like coffee.  But I digress...

What materialized in my head this morning was a scale of 1-10, relating the level of focus to the feelings/thoughts that run through the head of many a musician I know during a given practice hour.  It looks something like this... (hopefully you can relate)

Level of Focus: -1 to 3 (aka the "I Got Nothing Done" Zone...)
"Ugh, I forgot my coffee at home..."
"It's stupid early..."
"Omg it's soooo late..."
"Sightreading 101: What IS this??" (aka it took you 20 minutes to make it through three measures)
"Ugh... I forgot I had to _____"  (at which point you leave after half an hour)
"Wait, I've played this before... I practiced this yesterday!"
"How long has it been since I started?"
"This bench sucks..."

Level of Focus: 3.5 - 6 (aka the Semi-Productive Zone -- I spent the majority of my college career in this zone)
"Ugh, I spent way too much time on that first piece..."
"Maybe I should take a break..."
"Maybe I should sightread for a while..."
"Ugh, I suck at sightreading!"
"I need to play something fun first..."
"I wonder if that guy in the next room can hear me.  I wonder if he thinks I sound ok.  I wonder if he thinks I'm cute... does it matter?.... nah."
"I wonder if my teacher can hear me..."
"Oh yeah, THAT'S how that goes..."
"Well that's a dumb rhythm..."
"Ugh... WHY do you want me to play this??" ("you" being whomever has commissioned your work on a given piece)
(fumble fumble) "Yeah, I'll come back to that later..." (meaning sometime in the distant future, possibly never)
"I'm out of coffee..."
"Maybe I should just play through it again..."

Level of Focus: 6.5 - 9 (aka The Zone Zone)
"OMG, I love you Brahms/Bach/Beethoven/etc..."
"Brahms/Bach/Beethoven/etc, you are KILLING me!"
"WHY did you write it like that??  Oh, that's awful!"
"Oh that fits really well in the hand!"
"Holy cow, he was a genius..."
"Agh!  Where's my pencil??"
"I WILL get this right..."
"Again"
"Again"
"Ok go back to the section before that"
"Wait... nope, that was right..."
"Again again again"
"YES.  That was good.  Again."
"Why am I not getting that??  OH... tension.  Ok release."
"Again"

Level of Focus: 9 - 14 (aka The "My Mind is Mush" Zone)
"Wow.  I deserve a medal."
"Wait, what's my name?"
"What time is it??"
"Ohhh it's bright...!" (said upon going into the sunlight for the first time in hours)
"So wait, what all did I work on today... ?"
(counts practice hours on hands)... "Yeah, 3... I think... no, 4."
"Ugh, I still have to go teach all afternoon..."
"I can't believe I waded through that chromatic section like that... wow."
"I am a beast..."
"I need chocolate"
"Ok... I need food..." (usually accompanied by dizziness)

Ask any pianist.  They will tell you... pretty accurate, if I do say so myself.  Not all practice hours are created equal, dependent entirely on the level of focus on a given day and whether the ref in your brain woke up that morning or not.  And now you know :)

MLK Day

Happy MLK Day to you, my Readership!

Today I found out that there is absolutely nothing to do in St. Louis on Martin Luther King Day except to sit at home and think about... Martin Luther King!  I was lucky I was able to get into the practice rooms because otherwise it would've been a perfectly good day wasted at home doing things like resting and blogging and laundry and thinking about MLK, which can be great, but not when you need to get stuff done.  I am seriously thankful that I was able to log in about three hours at the piano before I nearly fell over from hunger and had to leave, knowing I wouldn't be able to get back in the building.  And that's when I realized there was nothing else for me to do but head over to Bread Co. and settle in for a while before I had to go teach.

Things here are... fine, if you want to call it that.  I've been realizing more and more every day that I really am an artist.  I've longed to be here (in this place of arrival where I can call myself an artist and not have second thoughts about it) for so long that now it feels... well, strange.  I have a love-hate relationship with it if I'm honest with myself.  I absolutely love what I do.  I wouldn't trade it for a million day-jobs with steady hours, a nice retirement portfolio, and a great health insurance package, none of which I have.  And if you think of all the stereotypes of artists, I absolutely fit them, though probably not in the ways you'd expect.  I make my living by educating children in the art of my instrument and performing for a local manifestation of the church (in my case a Lutheran school -- sidenote: the church has been employing artists everywhere for centuries), I live in part by the generosity of some really great and loving people who have taken me in (harken back to the patronage system anyone?), I spend a great deal of time by myself working on music that takes months to perfect when I should probably be practicing the stuff people pay me for instead, nobody really understands what exactly it is that I do all day, and I have absolutely no idea where my life is headed.  And about the time I think a man might enter the picture, he leaves about as quickly as he comes in.

It's the stuff of operas, let's be honest.

And if you actually follow that thought out to its logical conclusion, then my character (the role of the female ingenue) dies alone at the end, usually of consumption or a broken heart or both.

Agh!

And now you know why we artists feel tortured all the time...

I have a friend in New York who is actually trying to make it in New York as a pianist and well, we might as well be living parallel lives in alternate universes because he says it's the same for him.  No time, no money, and no second person to share in the torture.

And when I say torture I mean sheer delight.  Mostly. 

But truly, it is a delight... (are you catching on to the love-hateness yet?)  It's a delight to be able to do what we do and love what we do and pass that on to other people.  I spent nearly two hours today working on one of the most beautiful and difficult chamber pieces I've ever had the pleasure of encountering.  And then I spent another hour working on two or three other wonderful pieces.  My brain was mush when I left the practice room and it felt great.  Who else can say that??  It's just that the rest of my life -- you know, the big stuff like where I'm headed career-wise and whether I'll ever find the right person and actually settle down -- feels really unstable and lonely sometimes.  And by sometimes, I mean all the time.

I don't like to admit that.  Not in writing.  Maybe behind the closed door of my counselor's office, but not in writing.  Not when I have to take responsibility for those words...

I don't know.  There aren't any easy answers.  We're at the point in my adult life where there aren't any easy answers or quick fixes anymore.  I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I have a gracious, loving, and faithful savior who is only ever interested in my ultimate good.  And I trust him completely.  But it doesn't make the journey any less painful.  There are days when I totally live Proverbs 18:14 -- A man's spirit will endure sickness, but a crushed spirit who can bear?

I promise I'm not trying to be overly dramatic.  Learning the patience of unanswered prayer is no easy thing...  and there really just aren't any answers right now.  And I have no control over that.  It's frustrating and hard and it requires more of me than I'm ok with.

I'm going to see my counselor on Thursday and to be honest, I could fall over I'm so excited about it... not because she will have the answers, but because I know I'll feel heard in a deeper way than anyone else in my life hears me and she will tell me the things my restless heart needs to hear instead... because she will point me back to Jesus.

Stuff Pianists Say...

Just for fun, I've decided it's high time I give you a look into my life as a pianist.  We're a rare breed and the things that come out of our mouths often astonish me if I think about them too much... so I try not to.  But every now and then, it strikes me anew how amazingly different we are from the rest of the world... towards the edge of ridiculousness in some cases.  Most of what I've written here are either things repeated on such a regular basis that I don't think twice about it, or things I've said before and realized my own ridiculousness in the moment.  For your convenience, I've divided these gem-like phrases into categories... 

The needs:
"Do you have any nail clippers?  I left mine in the car..."
"Ugh, I am totally out of hole re-inforcers..."
"I clearly didn't drink enough coffee this morning..."
"Thanks for feeding me."
"I need to go pick up some music for my kids..."
"Can you stop and get me a banana on your way?"
"Man, I really need to go practice..."
"Hey, wanna hang out?  I just really need to be with people."
"Oh yeah... it's in my car." (as in, whatever... anything... and everything:  music scores, multiple pairs of shoes, food, water, tea bags, tissues, stamps, Bible, car charger, extra pair of mittens, scissors, tape, a hole punch, the NFMC guide to repertoire selections, an air mattress, a blanket... you get the idea...)

The excuses:
"I can't... I have rehearsal."
"I can't... I have to teach."
"I can't... I have to play a wedding."
"I can't... I have to play for the Lutherans (or denomination of choice)."
"I can't... my kids have a competition/recital."
"I can't... I have to practice."
"I don't think Beethoven would approve..."

The complaints:
"I need to practice so bad... I haven't touched a piano in like 3 days."
"Oh man... I have to play a wedding this weekend and I am so not ready."
"If I have to play Canon in D one more time..."
"Ugh, I have a cold.  I just can't hear anything right now..."
"If I don't practice soon, the pads on my fingers are going to go away..."
"I haven't clipped my nails in so long..." (like, a week)
"That judge is anything but a pianist.  Look at hair nails!  She clearly has a full set of acrylics and hasn't played in years..."
"That fingering is awful.  What edition is this...?"
"Those slurs are soooo not Bach's..."
"I don't think that pedaling is Beethoven's..."
"Oh man, my Beethoven/Chopin/Bach/Rachmaninoff/etc is KILLING me..."
"That left-hand passage in the development is brutal..."
"Bach, why do you HATE me??"
"I only practiced like an hour today..."

Things we tell our students:
"You need to clip your nails.  Like stat.  Sorry, it's part of being a pianist.  Embrace it."
"I really want you to practice this in short sections, slowly, counting out loud."
"Did you count?"
"Have you practiced it hands seperate?"
"Have you practiced it hands together?
"Have you practiced it hands together in short sections?"
"Seriously, one or two measures at a time.  And then the next one or two measures.  And then hook those two measures to the first two measures.  And then take that line and add it to another two measures... it's like you're going to build a big lego train of two-measure chunks."
"I promise:  the way to go fast is to go slow.  Think about the tortoise and the hare..."
"See this fermata?  It means you can hold this note as long as you want.  You could hold it so long, people will feel like they need to go get a cup of coffee or take a shower..."
"This measure needs some serious stop-practice..."
"Have you worked on it with the metronome?"
"Boy, that's a nasty page-turn, isn't it?"
"I need more top..."
"Shhh!"
"Count"
"Sing!"
"Your left hand is a little too loud there."
"Great!  Can you add your dynamics now?"
"Up-down"
"Down-up"
"More-less"
"Get your pedal ready!"
"Yeah, good... I need more."
"YES!!!  Oh man, I nearly fell over that was so good!"
"Here, can you go for a ride?  Put your hand on top of mine."
"Um... I don't believe you.  Can you try it again and shape the phrase better?"
"Ahhh!  Look at all that tension in your thumb!  You might as well be asking to get picked up on the side of the highway..."
"Um, I really need your fingers to not be flat."
"There's no way you'll ever play your scales faster with bent fingers..."
"Can you try it again without a hitchhiker thumb?"
"I'm going to give you this Taylor Swift/Disney/Twilight/Beatles/Harry Potter/etc piece, but I want you to be sure to count it out loud and use the fingering they give you..."
"So how have you been practicing this?"
"I'm gonna guess that you practiced this maybe 2 or 3 times this week..."
"Yes, yes, yes.... AHHH!!!  No!  No!  You're killin' me, Smalls!  Ok good.  Let's go back..."
"Have you listened to this yet?"
"Did I give you any theory?"
"Don't put your hand between your legs when you bow... it looks like you have to go to the bathroom."
"I promise this is how real pianists do it."

I could go on.  But it's time to sleep.  Because tomorrow I'm gonna get up and do it all over again :)