One of the joys of knowing
how to practice correctly is the feeling of confidence when you decide
to learn a new song, piece, or exercise. When you first sit down to
practice you have the same feeling that a craftsmen has when he/she
sits down to build a new project. There is no doubt about the final
result, you know what you are doing. You have done it many times before.
You know how to plan your work, and you know how to work your plan.
You know which steps to take, and you know how to take them. For whatever
amount of time you have decided to sit down and work, you know you
will accomplish something, and what's more, you have the wonderful
certainty that what you do accomplish will be there the next day,
or whenever you pick up the work again. The work is enjoyable and
you look forward to it. And, like a chef who gets to eat the meal
after creating it, or a carpenter who gets to sit in the room he has
built, you get (earn) the pleasure of sitting (or standing) with your
instrument and playing the music, and having it be something special
and something enjoyable for you and anyone else who may be around.
How different this is then what most guitar students experience! How
different this is from what many of you reading this actually go through
in your attempts to learn to play. I know, because I was there, in
the pit of despair, and because I have spent all my adult life pulling
people out of that pit. And it's pretty crowded down there! Down there,
it's more like this: every day you pick up your guitar and get in
the ring with that new piece, or song, or something your teacher gave
you in the lesson. You try to put on your best attitude, and you grab
that piece with both your guitar playing hands, and you wrestle! You
give it all you got, it's like wrestlemania, but that big bad dude
won't budge, he won't go down. Or, you get him down, but he won't
stay down. You think you got him, but as soon as you turn your back,
he's up and he's on your back! A lot of you will find yourselves losing
your enthusiasm for getting back in the ring. Before I knew how to
do correct practice, I used to feel like a kid who was building a
sand castle. Every day I'd go back to build it higher, but it had
gotten washed away overnight. Or I felt like a person who kept putting
money in the bank, and the bank kept going bankrupt and I lost everything
I put in. When I learned how to practice, I felt like I was building
something day by day, and nobody and nothing was messing with it overnight.
The structure was there waiting for me the next day, and I could invest
more time and effort into it, feeling secure that it would in fact
be there the next day. This was a really good thing for me, because
I am not a person who deals well with frustration. I get mad real
easy, so I'm sure that everyone else in my world is also a lot better
off thanks to the fact that I learned how to practice. Once you understand
the mechanics of correct practice, including the mental, emotional
and physical aspects of the process, the most powerful tool you can
use when you sit down to practice is what I call the Glue Of Repetition,
and this glue is applied with another tool, one that every student
I have ever taught is required to get, and learn how to use properly:
a metronome. People who understand correct practice know that repetition
by itself can just as easily harm you as help you. Because of muscle
memory, you can practice mistakes over and over and learn them just
as well as the notes you are supposed to be playing. But we will assume
that you realize this already, and are well on your way to being able
to practice correctly. So let me make some points that will bring
you even closer. Before you can apply the glue of repetition, there
is something you must achieve first with the music you are playing.
And achieving this often takes fully half of the entire time and energy
needed to master the music. And that thing you must achieve is this:
one correct playing of the notes being practiced. I have often sat
with someone working on one measure of music for twenty minutes while
they made attempt after attempt to get just one correct run-through
of a complex lick from a rock solo, or a passage from a classical
piece. They made attempt after attempt, and also mistake after mistake!
This is what happens for most people, even me. Depending on the complexity
of the music, it can take quite an effort to nail the notes square
on the head as they should be, as they must be. And realize that this
means every note, every pick stroke, every finger, all of this correct,
as well as the proper form and relaxation being maintained. If all
of this is not exact, the results will be flawed. And when you try
to build on those flawed results, you will get more flawed results.
During the process of achieving that one correct run through, every
mistake must be pounced on. Our awareness, our attention must be so
powerful that we are aware of everything we do and everything we don't
do, but should. And then we must fortify our Intention so that the
next run through comes out differently, either getting us what we
want, or bringing us closer to it until we get it, that one correct
playing of the notes. After this magnificent achievement, it is time
to apply the glue of repetition. Usually, that first correct playing
of the music will, and should be done, no tempo. Then, there should
be many repetitions done also no tempo. This is the beginning of applying
the glue of repetition. To make the glue set and become strong, we
take out our metronomes. The Basic Practice Approach, which we find
at the end of The Principles, (and ties everything together into an
actual program of action when practicing) tells us to begin by stripping
away the rhythm from the notes. This means making all notes into equal
time values. This is done so that all the movements associated with
making those notes can be done consciously, and examined and experienced
consciously. Having to observe the actual time values of the music,
where some moves must be faster to create shorter notes, is often
the thing that prevents us from becoming as aware as we need to be
of certain movements, especially the ones we are having trouble with.
In addition, the metronome, by being used so that four clicks at 60
represents one note (our starting point in going from no tempo to
slow tempo when using the Basic Practice Approach) forces us to play
much slower than most people ever would bother to do. Doing so leads
to incredible discoveries by whoever does bother to. From there, the
glue of repetition is applied until it sets into the muscle memory,
and we can ask our body and mind to perform the movements at a slightly
higher speed. Again, the metronome allows us to do so by a much smaller
increment of speed than we would otherwise use if left to ourselves.
By putting the metronome on 80 and taking 4 clicks per note, the increased
demand on our playing mechanism is very slight, and usually easily
handled. From there, it is a matter of simply working it up, maintaining
full awareness and "quality control" as we go along. When we reach
a speed that taxes us, that makes us feel like we are just about making
it hang together, that is called our "working speed". That is the
speed to stay at for awhile, and apply the glue of repetition until
the music is strong enough to bear the greater strain of a faster
speed. It may take minutes, days, or months, depending on the demands
of the music, and our level of development. This "working speed" is
our limit (our temporary limit). One very important thing to realize
is that this limit, once achieved, must be worked up to everyday.
(see "Measuring Your Progress). Another important (and pleasant) thing
to realize is that the speed we work for hours or years to attain
with a particular piece or technique after awhile becomes very easy
for us. When it does, I call this my "falling out of bed" speed, the
speed at which I can play something even if I have just fallen out
of bed! (yes, I sleep with my guitar). There are a number of things
I worked for years to bring to a very high professional level, that
I honestly didn't know if I ever would reach, that I can now play
immediately (or give me a few seconds at the most), after falling
out of bed. For those of you who don't sleep with your guitar, this
means that you will be able to play it at that speed even before being
warmed up. When the music begins to be "in our fingers", when muscle
memory, and the other forms of memory discussed in On Memorizing,
ear and eye memory, are strong, it is time to let the plane leave
the ground. It is time to begin to use the metronome as most people
do, and set it to the basic beat of the music, and observe the rhythm,
although still at a very slow speed, one that requires our fastest
movement to be equivalent to a speed we already reached when using
the Basic Practice Approach. It is also time to begin playing from
memory, and developing the fullest emotional relationship to the music
(as we would if we had memorized our lines for a play, and were ready
for a dress rehearsal to bring the character fully to life.) Everything
I have said is a description of what is commonly referred to as "woodshedding",
meaning going out to the woodshed for hours at a time to practice.
However, what we are talking about is a very intelligent type of woodshedding,
one where the woodshed is well stocked with a copy of "The Principles"
and a metronome!
Copyright 2002 Jamie Andreas.
www.guitarprinciples.com
