Unmute, Share, Edit: 3 Attitudes for Performing
I recently discovered a few of my students only practice with their piano on mute. They do not want to ‘bother’ other family members with the sound of works in progress. This reluctance to play for others started a valuable conversation about the role of performing in music study. Music is an interactive experience, so it is important to unmute ourselves and share our playing even when we feel like it can still improve. Here are three attitudes towards performing I learned to cultivate for myself and my students:
1. Unmute 🎙️ — music is a social experience
Post covid, educators of all stripes have discovered the benefits of teaching online, either in a totally virtual setup or a hybrid model. While it’s true we can connect more frequently with students through zoom, we should also remember that education and music are social experiences.
No amount of practice can replace the experience of sharing our music with other people. We all get nervous playing for an audience, but nerves simply show we care about what we do, that what we say will be heard and have an impact. Yes, nerves can lead to mistakes or discomfort, but they can also raise us to higher levels of attainment. This is why a shy student can blossom into an expressive and fiery performer, or a sloppy practicer who constantly rushes will play steadily and precisely in performance. There is no shame in saying we need a sense of occasion to be our best selves.
Nancy, one of our professors at Oclef, says “You learn so much about not only yourself as a performer, but what your weaknesses are when you play for others. In college, my professor would often encourage us to play for each other. More than learning your weaknesses, you can also learn your strengths.”
Learning to use our nervousness productively means we should play for other people often, not just online, but in person. At the very least, we can start by unmuting our keyboards, so other family members can enjoy the sound of our practice, mistakes and all. You might find more fans than critics, cheering you on through moments of self-doubt.
2. Share 📡 — perform early and often
Traditionally, students wait until they have perfected a piece before performing it. While this is appropriate for high-stakes scenarios like college auditions, competitions or concert tours, it doesn’t capture the whole learning cycle leading up to those important performances.
Every note-perfect performance is built on a foundation of error strewn trial runs. In this sense, performing is like drafting an essay:
practice —> draft performance —> assess and receive feedback —> strategize — > practice
Each draft performance pushes us out of our comfort zone. If we are used to playing alone in our home, on a familiar piano, then playing for a new audience, on a new piano, in a different venue is disorienting. Despite our best preparation, a first performance will always provoke unexpected errors. These errors are the information we use to improve the second iteration, without them we could not move forward. To deny ourselves these learning opportunities by not performing is self-sabotage.
So, we should be willing to perform works in progress and welcome feedback from a variety of sources. Playing for others can help us build confidence as well as show us where the “weak links” lie in our pieces and playing.
This means we have to learn to accept criticism in the right way. Most can deal with constructive criticism naturally, but I’d like to spend a moment on self-criticism, which can be crippling.
3. Edit 📝 — mistakes are just information
After a performance with many mistakes, it’s possible to think:
- I am a bad pianist — > I’ll never succeed at this
- I am a bad student — > My parents/teacher are disappointed in me
- I’ve wasted my time on this — > I shouldn't try again
These are character judgements which, apart from being destructive and untrue, are overly general.
[Nancy] recalls one such early performance. “I remember playing a piece with some complicated page turns. Halfway through the first page, I noticed the pages were out of order. In a panic, I stopped playing, righted my music and then continued onward. Once off stage, I burst into tears, sure that I must be the worst student ever. After the recital, my teacher approached a sobbing young me and said, “Wow, I’m so proud of you! I could tell you had some trouble with your papers, but you kept going! I barely noticed. Good job!” Those words stuck with me and showed me that mistakes are lessons, not catastrophes.”
Rather than judge and bully ourselves, we should treat each mistake as a specific piece of data:
- In measure 4 I had a memory lapse —> I should review the left hand alone.
- The arpeggios are rushing —> I should practice with a metronome.
- I had a hard time adjusting to the piano —> I should go out of my way to practice on different pianos.
By being specific, we turn each mistake into something simple, actionable and forward thinking, not retroactive, judgmental and permanent.
Conclusion: Enjoy the Process
As Nancy puts it, “My college instructor would remind me that music is a living, breathing thing, not a rigid sculpture. You must feed it and take it out to let it grow. You will make mistakes, that’s the nature of it.” Only by stress testing a piece several times in different scenarios, using the feedback loop, do we ‘earn our own trust’ or feel completely confident on stage. While doing this requires a willingness to be open and vulnerable, we should also enjoy the process. Or, as Aaron, another of our faculty members says, a performance is a piece of inspiration and healing for its audience members. Try to allow others to feel what you felt when first hearing/composing your piece. With this new perspective, trying to play to let others ‘feel’ instead of trying to play flawlessly should be the goal.