A learning experience at The Field DC last night. Fieldwork is a 10 week process where we show our works to the other participants and receive feedback. This particular session has been very juicy for myself. Consisting of twelve artists, primarily dance, but also three writers, all of whom are committed to developing their work. Besides the value of the feedback offered along guidelines that sidestep like and dislike and address what the piece(s) elicited in the audience, just being within a creative community brings an energy to each of us.
Last night I planned to show two works. The first piece I have shown there twice now, and generally can play through. The second piece came out four weeks ago; has been shown three times and continues to challenge both my left hand and my ability to sustain the rhythm. My executions of this piece has increased dramatically but still needs work. Arriving at The Field to a smallish group last night I learned that I'd be able to show twice if desired. Why not, I knew that a good learning experience would unfold.
The first piece began well, and as I approached the middle I became fascinated with the shape of my left hand on the fretboard. Wondering does it all look like that when I play this piece. Then I noticed an old habit had arrived in my right hand. Two much attention was being pulled into my use of the hands and I lost my place in the most challenging section of the piece. Somehow I made it through, but the piece was disrupted in it's build of intensity and notes were flubbed. At one point my playing fell apart, but I dove back in. Not a good sign as this was the piece that I "knew."
Early on in Turning the Wheel, I transitioned to a section and began playing the wrong melody. What to do - improvise. I did and somehow negotiated my way back to the piece. I'm not sure if the audience noticed this, and I forgot about it until I returned home. This act of improvisation within a "serious mistake" was a vital learning experience. As I recalled this, what I had been describing to myself as a rough night, turned into a good night.
Others showed their work and then we moved to the actual performing theater of Dance Place where our works in progress showing will be next month. I took the opportunity to "walk" onto the stage in this setting. Again I got overly concerned about what my hands were doing and faltered in performing both pieces. Fortunately this is exactly what The Field is for. A time and space to work and discover what is and what is not working in a new piece, in myself, and in performance. Valuable, oh so very valuable.
Showing posts with label learning a piece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning a piece. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Sunday, February 27, 2011
When New Learning Leads to Old Habits

6:30 am
I woke with stiffness in my left arm and elbow this morning. A sure sign I was trying too hard with my guitar practice last night. Trying as opposed to playing, tends to generate physical discomfort. As I become confident with a piece, my tendency to "hold on and control" what I am doing lessens, and I can than just allow the movement to be. Glad that I let go of my practice when I did. Time to practice Qi Gong and see if this loosens up my issues.
8:30 am
As usual I felt great after Qi Gong. An hour later, while standing, I was giving myself the AT directions and I noticed that my left shoulder and arm again had a bit of stiffness, and that this stiffness also included a muscle in my neck. When learning something new on the guitar, my habit is turn my neck to watch my left hand with my eyes; maybe even try to will my fingers to where I want them. This watching entails a shortening of my neck on the left side as I twist and look down. As I did this again, I could feel that the very muscle that was sore is compressed in this action.
9:00am
After writing the above I was tempted to go and explore this with the guitar. Instead, I decided to explore this on the floor with an AT lie down. About five minutes into the lie down, I noticed slight discomfort on the far left side of my back, just below the shoulder blade. I lack the anatomy vocabulary to better describe this, but as it released over the following minutes, I also noticed my left arm release. Was this a direct relationship? Not important, as the entire body/mind functioning is dependent on all of the parts. Relaxation, or better use, of one part affects the whole. This was why I choose to do the lie down rather than, work with my guitar, as a means to better address the whole use of myself
9:25am
As I began to work on the guitar, I allowed my arms to gently move around in a somewhat random fashion. Hopefully releasing any anticipatory habits built up around my approaching the guitar. I intended to not look at my left hand while playing, and to accept what might be played as a result of this. My gaze was looking about the room and mirror in front of me as I played, when I realized I that while there was a certain freedom in this, that by denying looking at my hands, I was still not free. Gently taking in my left hand but not locking in my gaze on it, I continued to play. Amazed that even a well intentioned effort can result in "trying" rather than doing.
9:55am
Releasing my left hand all the way through the fingertips seems key in this piece. I noticed my left hand becomes compressed as the fingers dance around the bass notes while another finger is anchored. David Jernigan has frequently reminded me in AT lessons to lengthen all the way through the tips of my fingers. When he works with me on this, I see the benefit, but as in most things in life I need to find this out again and again for myself. What is next to learn in how I use myself?A
Monday, December 6, 2010
Accept What I Play
While resting after dinner, I thought about how to structure my practice tonight. I will be performing three pieces this Thursday evening as part of The Fieldwork process. Two of the pieces continue to offer me difficulties with playing them. One of these Broken Wing is only a month old, while Beneath Dark Images began a long time ago and was only recently completed.
On my commute this morning I was working with visualizing BDI. I have worked with visualizing parts of this piece previously, but today I took on the entire piece. I found out that I am uncertain of the form. Reflecting on this after dinner I saw how this is true when I have played the piece. Though simple, the form has subtle changes that trip my up when I am not paying attention. There is also a tricky section with the left hand fingering where I frequently play it less than beautifully.
Knowing where I would begin my practice, I moved to the basement. I wanted to practice while suspending judgement of my playing, an idea I took from Pedro de Alcantara's excellent book on the Alexander Technique Indirect Procedures
. My intention is to play beautifully and I wrote this down prior to picking up my guitar. I began to write an intention to play without judgement, when I realized that I wanted to frame this positively. My intention is to accept what I play, is where I arrived.
I began reviewing the form of BDI by simply playing the chords. Letting go of the arpeggios, and the difficult fingering, I focused on the form. Almost immediately I was pleasantly surprised with what I learned. I continued to move through the piece by section and now have a greater understanding of how the piece moves. I also clarified a choice I have been making in the bass line which may lead to improved performance and musicality.
After a short break to take in this information I went to work on the section with the difficult fingering. The second and fourth fingers of my left hand are anchored on the first and second strings while a four note bass figure is repeated twice. The difficulty arises. when I use my third finger to stretch to its' limit and play the final note on the sixth string. I was playing with just playing the bass note and the top two notes that are anchored as a chord to see where I could relax my hand. Then the Guitar Craft aphorism to "Establish the possible, while gradually moving towards the impossible," came to mind.
Allowing the second and fourth fingers to remain anchored I only played the fourth final note of the bass line with my third finger. Gently exploring how it is possible for this finger to move to the desired note. With this established I then added in the third note which is played with the first finger. Slowly working backwards through the bass line, and most importantly, I was not reinforcing the habit of use that had already been established in this section. Then I played the bass line from the beginning with the arpeggios. While I then wanted to fold this part into the entire piece and see "my improvement," I resisted this urge and began to write instead. Allowing the body time to take in this new information and for me to capture this process.
On my commute this morning I was working with visualizing BDI. I have worked with visualizing parts of this piece previously, but today I took on the entire piece. I found out that I am uncertain of the form. Reflecting on this after dinner I saw how this is true when I have played the piece. Though simple, the form has subtle changes that trip my up when I am not paying attention. There is also a tricky section with the left hand fingering where I frequently play it less than beautifully.
Knowing where I would begin my practice, I moved to the basement. I wanted to practice while suspending judgement of my playing, an idea I took from Pedro de Alcantara's excellent book on the Alexander Technique Indirect Procedures
I began reviewing the form of BDI by simply playing the chords. Letting go of the arpeggios, and the difficult fingering, I focused on the form. Almost immediately I was pleasantly surprised with what I learned. I continued to move through the piece by section and now have a greater understanding of how the piece moves. I also clarified a choice I have been making in the bass line which may lead to improved performance and musicality.
After a short break to take in this information I went to work on the section with the difficult fingering. The second and fourth fingers of my left hand are anchored on the first and second strings while a four note bass figure is repeated twice. The difficulty arises. when I use my third finger to stretch to its' limit and play the final note on the sixth string. I was playing with just playing the bass note and the top two notes that are anchored as a chord to see where I could relax my hand. Then the Guitar Craft aphorism to "Establish the possible, while gradually moving towards the impossible," came to mind.
Allowing the second and fourth fingers to remain anchored I only played the fourth final note of the bass line with my third finger. Gently exploring how it is possible for this finger to move to the desired note. With this established I then added in the third note which is played with the first finger. Slowly working backwards through the bass line, and most importantly, I was not reinforcing the habit of use that had already been established in this section. Then I played the bass line from the beginning with the arpeggios. While I then wanted to fold this part into the entire piece and see "my improvement," I resisted this urge and began to write instead. Allowing the body time to take in this new information and for me to capture this process.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Laying Down the Practice
Photo by Engin Erdgon
For a change I am actually rested on a Saturday morning as I have already had two days off from work. Been enjoying extended Qi Gong in the surf, long walks, and playing with the Alexander Technique while in the ocean. So invigorating to share this precious time with my favorite person in the entire world.
After another delightful and inspiring beginning to my day today, I did a 20 minute AT lie down. I am increasingly becoming convinced that this is the best way for me to begin my guitar practice. The lie down relaxes my body, quiets my mind, and allows me the opportunity to begin this detailed work with my hands from a place where I am ready to observe how I am using them. Today I played through the first piece I ever wrote which is also the title of this blog - A Journeyman's Way Home. Playing this allows me to touch the innocence of the first time I experienced music coming through me. Today as is true of most times I play this piece I also feel the joy welling up in me.
I began looking at Aftermath again today, gently playing through the different left hand positions with out adding the tremolo. This allowed me to warm up my left hand, review the structure of the piece, and continue to exercise good use of my body. Also worked with the crescendo that completes the piece. After a short break I found a metronome setting to work the piece. I am paying careful attention to allowing my body to be free as possible as I relearn this piece. By applying the AT principles throughout this learning process, I can be more efficient in bringing this piece of music to life, while also not over straining the previously injured tendon in my left wrist.
Paying attention to the quality of my breath will also allow me to see when I am 'trying' too hard. When I can play something my breath is gentle and relaxed; when 'trying' my breath is shallow or worse yet - I am holding my breath.
I have decided to break the piece down into sections and slowly work the transitions before attempting to playing the piece through. Especially at this slower metronome setting, my left hand will be subjected to having the fourth and second fingers anchored at an interval of a fourth while the the index and third fingers dance around playing the bass line. I also can break this down further by practicing just the movement of the anchored fingers as they move through the piece. If I can allow them to release from the strings I will avoid the 'screeching' string noise caused when left hand fingers drag across the positions. I also worked out a tempo where I can practice the right hand tremolo patterns.
As I look at this process I am undertaking I realize what is different for me is that I am usually writing pieces on the guitar and not learning pieces that are already complete. A problem with writing the pieces with the guitar is that as the piece evolves I tend to move through it looking for options and transitions. While doing this I am not paying attention to what I am playing and begin practicing mistakes. Frequently this takes a lot of work to unlearn.
Thus relearning Aftermath is offering me a different approach to my practice. Stay tuned!
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