Talent = Inception + Work

The film Inception is based upon the concept that the most powerful thing in the world is an idea.  Moreover, that idea cannot be consciously planted in the mind of an individual . . . it has to be born there, if only on the conscious level.  Daniel Coyle's book The Talent Code offers some compelling evidence that talent is nothing more than skill that is a product of intense and efficient practice, fueled by inception.  (Coyle calls this ignition, but the idea is the same.)


Practicing music was something I did because it was fun and interesting to me, until something huge happened.  I was listening to the radio, a program on Boston public radio called Eric in the Evening, when I heard something that blew my mind.  It was one of the Mingus Changes albums, and the late George Adams was doing things with the tenor that I never dreamed possible.  He played with speed, range, and reckless abandon.  Something in my brain jolted with electricity at the moment of inception:  If I practice hard enough, I could do that!  In retrospect, I also see that I didn't want to have to work myself to death in a factory like my father, so the idea really had the urgency of I must practice hard enough . . .

As a university professor, I have witnessed this again and again.  A student only works as hard as they want to, and the level of commitment is directly proportional to the power of the idea that lives in the mind.  The student that isn't convinced that they want to be great will never be great.  Deeper still, one cannot force an idea to take hold.  Being in an inspirational environment is a key element, but each individual must eventually turn on the engine of internal motivation.

For an individual that hasn't experienced inception, Practice Monster is the enemy, constantly expressing the subconscious feeling of "I can't do this."  Meanwhile, Practice Monster is the friend of the person who deeply believes that they can do it, and that they must do it.  While there may be something to the physiology of talent, certain body types or physical structures making some skills easier to obtain, I have my doubts that talent really exists, at least in the way we love to over-romanticize it.  We say that someone is talented after the fact.  No matter how much we wish it were true, nobody is born with skills pre-wired.  Talent is earned.


So . . . what kind of Practice Monster do you have?

Starving Mediocrity to Death

Mediocrity is infectious and contagious.  It sneaks into our work and quietly spreads into everything that we do.  If you allow mediocrity to slide into what you practice, it will feed on everything around it.  If you myelinate sloppy circuits, you will become a master of mediocrity.

As you practice, force yourself to stop when you stumble.  Go back, fix things as you go, and pay attention to the details.  It is far better to practice one measure for an hour, if that is what it takes.  By demanding perfection in the the preparation process, you can literally starve mediocrity to death.

Habits are easy to form, and tend to be one-way streets.  Myelin breaks down very slowly, and the only way to get rid of a bad habit is to "over-write" it with a good one.  You literally have to myelinate a new circuit strong enough to overpower the old one.  Be thoughtful about the things you might be accidentally cementing through repetition, and spend most of your time focusing directly on your weaknesses.  SMASH!!!

Myelinate This!

Summer reading is one of the things I truly look forward to each year.  My brother-in-law hipped me to Daniel Coyle's fascinating book The Talent Code.  Coyle does a great job of clearly explaining what he calls deep practicing, and why it works.  Practice Monster knows the deep practice zone well, and you'd be smart to read this book right away.  It has everything to do with what I've been blogging about.

Here is the basic idea.  We have something like 100 billion neurons in our brains.  (Yes, you read that number correctly.)  In order to perform tasks, the brain builds circuits of neurons that must fire in a certain order, and with perfect timing.  The problem is that electricity is leaking all over the place, mucking up the speed and timing of the circuit.  Enter the oligodendrocytes.

Axons are the nerve-fibers that literally carry the electrical signals in our brains.  When we practice, anything at all, special cells called oligodendrocytes manufacture a fatty insulator called myelin.  Myelin wraps around the axon, insulating the electrical connection.  With less leakage, the signal is stronger . . . and faster.  The more you repeat a task, the more myelin wraps around the wires in that particular circuit.

Coyle describes deep practice as slowly stumbling into errors, going back to correct, and ruthlessly repeating.  He describes the facial expression of deep practice as "Clint Eastwood."  (I love it!)  This is precisely the state of mind that occurs when Practice Monster is awake, but he's still on the leash.  Coyle does a great job of combining current scientific research with time in the field, studying everything from musicians to chess players to athletes.  Remember, skills are skills, and the brain doesn't differentiate.

If you are a student or a teacher, you need to read this book.  At the very least, it provides some concrete affirmation of what we already know, but you are likely to get some great ideas about how to refine your practice, and coaching techniques.  By taking ourselves to the very edge of our abilities, and making that the normal practice mode, we can efficiently insulate our internal circuitry.  Get to work!

Have a Mantra

In one of my first posts (disorganized practiced . . . ), I wrote about the importance of keeping practice sessions mentally organized by continually asking, "What am I practicing, right now?"  The idea of mantra is at the heart of any good form of practice.  "What am I practicing?" can become a powerful mantra in itself, but it can also be an even more powerful, permanent cue for more specific mantras.  

Most of my students struggle to remember to use good air support.  At the beginning of a practice session, it might be helpful to repeat a phrase over and over again, such as "use my air, use my air, use my air."  Intensely connect the recitation with the feeling of an engaged diaphragm, and say it over and over again.  Then, in the course of regular practice, stop at measured intervals and recite the mantra again.  Try to think the mantra in your head as you are performing.

I have many little mantras that run in my head, almost like computer programs that run in the background.  LOOSE WRISTS LOOSE WRISTS LOOSE WRISTS . . . HEAD UP HEAD UP HEAD UP HEAD UP . . . AIR AIR AIR AIR AIR AIR.  These mantras are so intimately connected with my practice, they have transcended the words and have become pure constructs of thought.  This works much in the way that an unfamiliar object eventually becomes so familiar, we almost don't notice it, even if we use it every day.  (You can look at a chair and not have to think the word "chair," to know that is a chair!)

Like everything else, it only works if you practice, and the harder you practice, the better it works.

I'm taking a few weeks off of the blog, but please keep your comments and suggestions coming!

Make the Monster Your Servant

Have you ever had a burst of anger in the middle of a frustrating practice session?  When Practice Monster takes over, we lose momentum, and we might even become unable to progress.  There is a better way to deal with the situation.  Check out this excerpt from my May 2011 column in *Saxophone Journal.  (If you don't subscribe to SJ, please consider doing so by visiting www.dornpub.com.)

*Saxophone Journal has ceased publication.  Back issues are available from the website.

To read my new column, please consider subscribing to Saxophone Today.*

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Without fail, the Practice Monster phenomenon occurs as a result of frustration and unrewarding practice.  He is the embodiment of sustained overreaching.  This is important information, as it offers a clear path to summoning the creature.  For this reason, it is a good idea to begin each practice session with something familiar.  Start with some long tones and embouchure flexibility exercises, to awaken the muscles and the mind, without overtaxing either.  Progressively move towards more challenging material in a consciously organized manner, saving the most challenging work for about two-thirds of the way through the total session.  For example, in a four hour session, the most difficult work should begin about 2.5 hours in.  The next part requires some experience, and a good amount of finesse.  The idea is too push just hard enough to feel Practice Monster surfacing.  This is a delicate balance, for if your practice isn’t challenging enough, you won’t awaken the monster at all, but if you push too hard, you won’t be able to continue.  Learn to go as far as you can without losing control, and just when you are about to reaching the point of no return, take a short break.  Get a drink, go to the bathroom, get a breath of fresh air – whatever it takes to briefly calm down and refocus.  You shouldn’t have to rest for very long; just long enough to stave off the impending disaster.

After the break, return to practicing, and preferably go back to the difficult material that almost set you off.  With a new sense of calm, practice the material much more slowly and carefully.  If the subject is technical, dramatically decrease the tempo and relax as much as possible.  Turn the emotional energy that you just felt into cool-headed purposefulness.  Tell yourself, “This is very difficult, but I can make progress if I go slowly and take my time.”  After a reasonable duration, end the practice session with some more familiar material that is fun to play.  . . . .  Whenever possible, end the practice session with a feeling of accomplishment, feeling good about yourself.

©2011  David J. Pope

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Practice Monster can be a constructive force, if we use him as a signal to take a break and refocus.  The harder we push our own limits, the easier it becomes to give up.  If we turn the energy of our own anger into calm determination, we get closer to our true potential.

The Air Goes ZOOM, Part 2

Once you have mastered the techniques from my previous post, it's time to apply the concepts more deeply.    It is probably counterproductive to go on without mastering the basic idea of "powering" a single finger movement with air, so take your time and don't get ahead of yourself.

In sixteenth notes, play a G major pentachord . . . the first five notes of a G major scale, up and down.  As you play the notes, imagine that your air is flowing through your fingers.  Transfer the idea of pneumatic saxophone keys into pneumatic fingers.  Repeat the pattern, and focus your mind on completely relaxing your hands and fingers (and your entire body, for that matter).  The only tension should be in your diaphragm.  Keep your body inflated and concentrate on feeling the flow of the air, and imagining that it extends outward into your hands.  As your fingers move more quickly, draw on the airflow (real and imagined).

There are two primary purposes of this exercise.  Firstly, the concept reinforces a relaxed technique: relaxed fingers.  The second purpose is to mentally strengthen the connection between fingers and air.  In reality, the air is certainly not powering the fingers, but remember that great air fixes many of our problems.  Relaxed fingers, powerful air.

Now get practicing . . . ZOOM!!!!

The Air Goes ZOOM!

This is an exercise I recently started working on, and I'm very happy with the results so far.  I'm always looking for ways to make smoother phrases.  This means we must avoid slamming down the keys, and we have to keep the air supported as the notes change.  I call this "the air goes zoom."

Play a middle G, and focus on relaxed fingers and fast moving air.  As you lift your ring finger to play an A, imagine that the finger is being blown upward by your air.  Repeat this process, slowly moving to a B.  In the beginning, you will probably slightly "puff" the air as the fingers move.  Once this is accomplished without effort, imagine that the air column is constantly pressurized, and that simply relaxing a finger will cause that key to pop up.  At first, only work on finger exchanges that "release" keys.  Once this is mastered, try imaging the air flowing into your fingers to gently pop the keys downward.

Work through the exercise slowly, and really internalize the feeling that you are controlling the fingers with a rapidly moving, highly pressurized column of air.  Imagine that the keys are pneumatic, and that the fingers mostly get out of the way of the air.  Try to feel your diaphragm pushing at the keys.  Feel the air moving under your fingers, even through your fingers.

In time, the fingers will become increasingly relaxed, resulting in a fast and nimble technique.  Keep the potential energy of the springs in mind, and avoid squeezing or clamping down.  Whenever there are technical problems, first move your attention to the airstream.  Imagine the air rushing through the instrument, literally powering the music.  Each time you imagine this, think the phrase, "the air goes ZOOM."