Practicing 101

2011-10-25T10:02:00.000-07:00

I've been singing on stage for 11 years and I still feel like I don't know how to practice music.

There. I said it.

When my college voice teacher talked about learning how to practice I thought she was nuts. But realistically, it is so easy to feel lost in a practice room, having to guide yourself and be your own teacher, in many ways.
There seems to be a general formula to a practice session.
1. Warm up/exercises
2. Rehearsal of learned music
3. Learning of new music

But this formula is so very loose and leaves so much open to each individual performer's judgment.
Anyone who studied music in college can easily remember hours wasted goofing around or procrastinating in the practice room (and those who didn't are robots). It's hard to build your own structure and adhere to it, especially for young people in an age of eternal distractions. It's also scary. I'm often intimidated by the work ahead of me, and the lack of guidance in personal practice.

Creating a space in which to be creative is no easy task!
My own practice space leaves much to be desired.

In our small 8'x9' spare bedroom, I have a futon (which needs to be thrown away) and a dressing table. Tucked into the closet is Ol' Reliable. My trusty keyboard, which I paid a fortune for in high school (well, $300 sure FELT like a fortune then...hell, it feels like a fortune NOW.)
With my chair positioned precariously between the table and the doorjamb, I often feel trapped. Once we pitch the futon, I intend to move the keyboard out into the room so I have a little room to breathe, perhaps near the window.
A resource I have mixed feelings about is the book The Art of Practicing by Madeline Bruser.
It's an interesting book with a lot to say about productive practice, stretching, avoiding tension in the body and being relaxed and focused. But there's a bit of a fluffy aspect to Bruser's writing. It gets a little sappy and sentimental and esoteric in talking about the emotive aspect of performing. She dwells a lot on death and using heartbreak to fuel your performance. Which isn't a bad thing, but I don't really like supporting the cliche of the tortured artist.

I've always loved the story about Dustin Hoffman and Laurence Olivier. They were working on the film Marathon Man. As a method actor, Hoffman deprived himself of sleep for a few days because that's what state the character was in. Olivier asked him why he was doing this and Hoffman said he wanted to be convincing. Olivier said "Try acting, dear boy."

There's another book on practice I've been wanting to read, called The Musician's Way by Gerald Klickstein. It has rave reviews on Amazon, but my local library has failed twice now to import it from another library in the network. I may have to break down and buy it.

I think at the end of the day, practicing is such a deeply personal experience and different things will work for different people. A quiet, private, orderly space is pretty crucial for me. I also like to stretch a little beforehand and I have little patience for vocal exercises (something I need to work on).

Now I need to actually DO some practicing. :)

A journey of 10,000 hours begins with a single blog post.

2011-10-21T14:53:00.000-07:00

Step 1. Practice for 10,000 hours
Step 2. Become fabulous, internationally renowned opera star
Oversimplified? Yes. Sound fabulous? You betcha.

Alright, fine, I'll explain myself.I was first turned on to the concept of Malcolm Gladwell's book Outliers during the summer of 2009. While talent, intelligence, networking and luck all play a role, everyone who has done something remarkable always says it comes straight down to hard work. I buy this.

When I first started to pursue classical singing, I didn't really know what it all meant. Now I have a much better idea, and frankly it’s a strange path to walk and a not a little bit scary, but I still love it. After I graduated from undergrad, I was a little devastated. The graduate program I wanted to enter gave me nothing in the way of financial aid, so I had to choose between not continuing my education or taking on another $30,000 in debt. Then the harsh realities of finding a job and paying back the student loans I had from undergrad set in.

I'm one of those type-A-crazy-OCD-uber-competitive types of people. I don't just want to sing. I want to be exceptional. At the end of the day, I don't care if I'm "famous" or not. Fame doesn't mean much to me. Lots of people are famous, and a lot of them are famous for being mediocre or even for being talentless. I want to be good. I want someone in my audience who has never seen an opera before say "That was exciting, and I want to know more about this." It's really important to me. So, thus begins the 10,000 hours experiment. I really couldn't tell you how much I practice, or how much I've practiced up until now. I really don't know, it ebbs and flows, just like anything else in life. But now I want to tally it. Really be conscious of what I'm doing while I'm practicing and see where it gets me. It's an experiment.

Sooooo...what qualifies as "practicing"? Singing along to Beyonce on the radio does not. However, I will count; translating, memorizing, learning notes and rhythms, working on diction and any other task that may come up that helps me further my understanding of the music I'm singing, the art I'm trying to make of it, and the technical skill I need to pull it off. And I’ll be doing all of this while working 40-60 hours per week, fitting in time for family, friends, fitness, and occasionally sleep. I'm starting at ZERO, with 10,000 to go.
Wish me luck.

10,000 Hours to the Met

Practicing 101

A journey of 10,000 hours begins with a single blog post.