Hidden Agenda

Hello again, everyone!

Last month, I posted about the way I'd prefer my students to sequence their practice sessions (and the way I sequence my lessons). Today, I'd like to get even more specific than that. But first, I have to confess, I do have an agenda with all this:

Throughout my entire violin career, my teachers always expected me to practice, but never taught me how to practice. I thought I knew how to practice, because I was more or less successful, and because it seemed more respectable to spend 9 hours a day in your practice room. But every week, I'd show up to my lesson, and my teacher would say the same thing: Why didn't you practice this? By the time my senior recital rolled around, I was so nervous, and felt so unprepared, that I literally blocked out the entire recital. No, really. I remember walking up to the stage, and I remember walking away, but between those two, there's a great big blank.

Now, if I'd been practicing for so many hours of my day, why is it that I ended up so unprepared? The problem was that I had been practicing mindlessly. I had been spending my practice sessions on autopilot.

Many, many, many music students seem to think that, just by playing through their piece, or just by repeating a tricky phrase a couple times until it sounds right, their violin muscles will manage to absorb the right way, and discard the wrong way of its own volition. That kind of thinking will only get you stuck in your practice room for 9 hours a day, with nigh undetectable progress. Because of my experience, I'm on a mission--nay, a crusade!-- to teach students how to practice effectively, so they don't end up wasting precious time in the practice room. Tune in next time to see how we're achieving all that...


Until then, I'll leave you with this poem by Shel Silverstein:


Melinda Mae

Have you heard of tiny Melinda Mae, 
Who ate a monstrous whale? 
She thought she could, 
She said she would, 
So she started in right at the tail. 

And everyone said,'You're much too small,' 
But that didn't bother Melinda at all, 
She took little bites and she chewed very slow, 
Just like a little girl should... 

...and eighty-nine years later she ate that whale 
Because she said she would.