Finished reading in the first quarter of this year, but did not have the time (and mood) to write a review until now. Two biggest takeaways from this book are – the importance of stretching, relaxing, and posture; and being unafraid to show vulnerability when you play.
I vaguely recall myself slightly scoffing at the pages and pictures of stretching exercises at first, but the subsequent examples, personal annecdotes, and anatomic rationales that Bruser detailed soon had me convinced. In one instance, she shared how her music just flowed out when she gradually relaxed her posture, compared to before where she was just “holding on to the music for [herself]” (p.63-64). In another instance, she recounted how a teacher burst into tears upon seeing her own posture (slouched over the piano), when all the while she has been reminding her own students about the importance of good posture. Just doing simple stretches before practising, as Bruser had advised, would greatly help the body to relax and unwind. These would also function as mental cues for the mind to switch off from whatever previous activity it was on (for me, it’s often work). As someone who often falls back into old habits of playing with a tensed posture and forgetting to breathe, I see these stretches as external regulators for myself until relaxing and breathing becomes an instinctive part of my playing and practising (or perhaps it’s more like an endless cycles of tension-relaxation-integration each time we approach new works?). Preparing for the competition finals had furthered my appreciation of the importance of breathing and relaxing while playing – there were moments in the piece where I had to slightly elongate a harmonic beyond the meter to create a fleeting yet everlasting effect, but could never get the timing, the tone, or the feeling just right, no matter how many times I practised. Only after I learnt to relax my body right before the harmonic did the music leaped straight out (credit goes to this masterclass video conducted by Professor Fan-Chiang Yi and created by the awesome musician and piano teacher Ms. Chiang. 問：如何演繹若有似無，近似臨界點的聲音？答：“很多同學…他們都很想把東西做到很極致…但都常常是在那一瞬間想要去量 多一刻少一刻時，身體可能就會有一点不自然的緊… 太刻意反而氣會不順。” Q: How does one depict music of inbetweenness? A: Many students wish to play the music to utmost perfection. But it is often in that moment of deliberation – a bit longer, a bit shorter – that the body starts to tense up unnaturally. Too much intentionality impedes breathing. (5:26 – 7:11)). As Bruser aptly concludes: “Musicians often confuse being emotionally intense with being physically tense. Intense expressiveness and power come not from overtightening the physiological mechanism that produces the sound but from freeing that mechanism to work smoothly and efficiently.” (p.136)
On showing vulnerability, i.e. mistakes and personal flaws – we as audiences are all human and hence intrinsicly flawed, so it would often be the more open, vulnerable, and slightly imperfect playing that moves us the most. Granted, as musicians, this is not an excuse to ignore our playing mistakes during practise, but rather, a reminder to not try to hide our imperfections to the point of sacrificing the rawness and genuineness of the music. In the past, there were times when I was so insecure and concerned about exposing the flaws in my playing that I closed off my heart and did not go all out (or, all in to the music), which always resulted in subpar and mediocre playing with unnatural intentions that did resonate with myself or the audiences (and ironically, exposing my flawed playing in the process). In Chinese art philosophy, there has always been anthithetical discussions of the “work of man” (huagong, 畫工) and the “work of nature” (huagong, 化工), where works that embody the forces of the former always seem to have traces of human deliberation, while the latter exhibits such naturalness and flawlessness to the point it seemed otherworldly. While I see the contradiction in likening showing vulnerability with flawless works of nature, I would like to think of the works to be flawless in the intention and not the execution (though admittedly in truly great works the two are rarely contradictory). Just as nature itself is filled with what we would consider as “imperfections” (dirt, death, decomposition) but we remain deeply moved by its genuine beauty each time we are in its presence, grand or minuscle, good works and good music would have the same effect with its uncalculated, unfeigned, and unabashed power of beauty.
Sharing some more really good quotes while trying not to overshare to avoid copyright infringement:
- “If you do practise straight scales, practice them in a muscial way. Change the dynamics, or even vary the phrasing or the timing. Most important, listen to each note. A scale is a fantastic thing. It’s the basis of our musical language. Each note has a different psychological value, a tendency to settle or to lead to another note. Take time to appreciate the effect of each sound. Notice how it feels in the context of the entire scale. You can discover endless possibilities by enjoying scales this way.” (p.143)
- “Mistakes are educational. Just as in playing music, if you make mistakes you discover your weakness and you have a chance to improve. You don’t have to be a perfect teacher. You can say to the student, ‘I’m sorry. I was wrong. I was not the best teacher today.'” It takes guts, but it makes you more human in the student’s eyes and it encourages him to be equally genuine with you.” (p.150)
- “Instead of fully expriencing sound, we often gloss over notes and struggle to manipulate a phrase to fit our preconceived idea of it. We try emphasizing different notes and adding crescendos, decrescendos, and subtle fluctuations of rhythm and tempo, but it never feels right. no matter how much we try, we can’t make the music fall into place and lie flat because we have unwittingly stretched it out of shape. No matter how interesting our intellectual conception of a piece may be, it cannot be convincing if we do not completely hear the sounds.” (p.167)
- “Some performers try to protect themselves from fear by pretending they’re alone in the hall, with no audience present. They feel threatened by the audience, so they ignore the rows of people who have come to enjoy fine music and have welcomed them with applause…… Fear is energy. If you allow it to flow through you, you transform it into fearlessness. Bravery doesn’t mean that you don’t feel afraid… It’s when you feel frightened of a situation but step into it anyway that you demonstrate courage… Sometimes we’re afraid of failure… In any case, we’re afriad of the unknown in ourselves, of the self deep inside that is about to rise to the surface and become known – visible, audible, palpable. If we don’t continually give birth to ourselves through creative acts, we perpetuate a fearful existence. We can keep growing only if we face our fear and dare to step forward through it.” (p.228-299)
afloatingeyot 