The Art of Practicing by Madeline Bruser, a classical concert pianist, hit the shelves in 1997 but the ideas presented are timely and timeless. A music teacher and a performer, she shares approaches that have helped her and her students, focusing on body posture, relaxation, and psychological approaches from embracing vulnerability versus faux passion. The anecdotes in the 250-page book are directed mostly toward classical musicians but the principles can be adapted to any genre.
Specific to the classical genre, which can be very competitive and does require hours of practice to be proficient on the instrument, musicians can over-practice or even find competitive students in the next practice room playing their own pieces back at them with greater speed and agility. This could be disheartening for a musician, but she suggests feeling sorry for the person in the next room that is being competitive, and even sad for them that they can’t be more human.
The real “meat” of music is in the vulnerability of the performer. She shows again and again how loosening up your muscles, and your heart, literally and figuratively, make for truly great music.
If you let yourself relax while reading this, and carry the overall philosophy into your playing and practicing, you will find it a breath of fresh air. There are some specific examples of how to sit and stand for piano, trumpet, guitar and drums. She shares how one teacher told her how his trumpet students often held the instrument with a “death grip” and how using minimal effort to achieve the same position makes playing more fluid. She shares how she helped a cellist adjust the footstand on their instrument to free up their shoulder blade, showing how all the muscles and limbs are conencted to each other, and to the posture of the player and that adjustments can make playing more comfortable, freer and easier. She has inspired students to purchase mirrors so they can observe posture while practicing.
She also shares how showing your vulnerability as a teacher or conductor can free up musicians that you work with. Asking a student what they think could be better, rather than telling them, can be surprising when the teacher finds the student knows their own flaws and strengths. A clarinet player who was given a last minute conductor role and found their lack of experience made for an unruly orchestra, acknowledged that he didn’t have the experience but said to the group, “let’s put our heads together and see what we can do.” The orchestra gelled with a common goal, and the conductor’s openness helped.
The book shows that the teacher or instructor isn’t always speaking gospel, and that the inner workings of the musician when they “know thyself” is key. This book in particular is useful for teachers, as Bruser shares equally from the perspective of teacher and performer allowing us a 360-degree look at how teaching, practicing and performance build off of one another.
Although I could not relate to some of the stories as they centered around the classical music world, the book is well worth the read for any musician that wants to take their practice time and make it fruitful. This makes music wonderful for the musician, the music and the audience.
If you want to dig deeper into the state of mind of the practicing musician, and like how this book erases tension and exalts relxation, check out Effortless Mastery by Kemny Werner.