When I practice, I go through different stages. The first one is joy or enthusiasm which is also blended with fear since I have little idea how the exercise or the song I’ve been practicing for days will come out at first. The second stage is frustration generated by the fact that I can’t spit out what I executed really well yesterday. Fortunately, that feeling doesn’t last long since it soon gets tramped by curiosity followed by excitement. The curiosity comes from paying attention to what I am doing and trying to find ways to understand faster and better, which gives birth to excitement once I’ve found a new angle to explore. The final stage is a dangerous one, because once I am truly jazzed about what I’m practicing, my mind becomes glued to the exercise or the tune. Of course, when I am on that mode, bringing the practice to a halt can be a problem.
All these steps are accompanied by an internal monologue that many players will recognize. So, even if it is shameful, here are my thoughts when I practice. Buckle up, it’s about to get bumpy.
First I sit at the piano and I pick up a page I’m studying. I put it on the stand. I don’t play yet. I first have to size the beast.
“Ha! That’s “All of me”, the famous jazz song. I need to do it at 140 straight through then solo landing on the thirds of every chord. The right hand does the melody and solo, the left hand will keep playing the walking bass. I’m pretty sure I can do all that.”
You don’t need to understand all of this mumble jumble, all you need to know is that I’ve got a certain assignment, with precise direction and boundaries to do.
So, I set the metronome at 140, and I begin the tune.
“Ouch! Nice going! That chord wasn’t correct. Oh, wow! Watch the melody, Buddy, you’re adding some notes that are not written. Here comes the difficult passage, and… what a disaster! Well, I just finished it and if I was grading myself, it would be a solid “F”. So, first thing first, let’s try to play it correctly, then I’ll work on the solo. Man, I thought I knew it!”
You just witnessed the frustrating part. Moving on.
“Hey, you know what? You should do the melody first, just to get the right hand in shape. Yes… Yes… That’s good. Oh, wait, I’m going try to play louder when the melody goes up! Funny, I’ve never thought of that. All right, be careful now. Oh, that’s good. It’s starting to sound like music, the whole thing breathes better. Let’s focus on the second line a few times, just to build confidence. Good.. Good. I like it. The fingers are answering well, the theme is taking shape. That second line could be better though, really dig in the keys towards the end. Appreciate that line, savor it. If you savor it, chances are the audience will too.”
Time passes by.
“Keep going! You’re almost there (I’m always almost there, I’ve seen the Eldorado many time. From afar!). Don’t give up, it can be improved.
But wait!
How long have I spent on that second line? What the clock say? Thirty minutes!!! Oh no! I have to move on! If I don’t study something else, my whole time would have been dedicated to just one line! That’s too bad, though, I was beginning to be in the groove. I was almost there. Maybe I can compromise and pass through it a few more times, just to make sure I’ve got it.”
More time passes by. I can stay stuck on repeat for another thirty minutes,, an hour or longer, it depends.
There! I just confessed to you my internal alchemy. I am aware that’s it’s not pretty. When I am interested in a subject I become hungry for more, I find ways to make it captivating. This natural defect of mine can be a pain to deal with but I don’t have negative feelings towards it, as a matter of fact, I am thankful it’s a part of me because this is exactly the component I needed to become a musician: looking for the Holy Grail inside my own mind.
