What mind games do you play while you are practicing?
I was working with a high school tuba student in a lesson recently, and I noticed a pattern in her playing. This particular issue was a longstanding one for her: although she usually took a nice big breath through her mouth before her first note, she often reverted to breathing through her nose as the phrase or section continued. This is a habit we had been attempting to break for some time.
While nose breathing is optimal for humans in our everyday life, we need to take in a larger quantity of air in a small amount of time when playing tuba, and therefore mouth breathing is necessary. My student was accustomed to nose breathing (from, you know, being a human), and so had trouble consistently breathing through her mouth while playing the tuba. The result was that in many cases, her air supply became so depleted that she had trouble finishing phrases. I asked my student questions about her breathing and playing process, trying to pinpoint exactly what was keeping her from being able to use her mouth instead of her nose. She knew that mouth breathing was necessary, and it was her intention to do it.
She eventually told me that she had gotten into the habit of essentially keeping score while she played. When she missed a note or didn’t center a note properly (a common occurrence among young players), she started at zero. Every correct note was part of a streak that she was trying to extend for as long as possible. When she was on such a streak of correct notes, she was unwilling to remove her face from the mouthpiece for fear of ending the streak. Unfortunately, this reluctance to move her mouth left only one way to breathe: through her nose. So instead of extending her streak of correct notes, her playing process usually resulted in a massive air deficit, making any note impossible to play. Even though I repeatedly pointed out the need for larger, more frequent breaths, and even though she repeatedly acknowledged same, she often found herself unable to “break the streak” in the moment.
Something about this student’s story really resonated with me. I can remember having similar mental processes when I was a beginning band euphonium player. In part, it has something to do with playing a non-visual instrument. We can’t see a keyboard or fretboard to visualize the notes, so we come up with mental visuals to assist in our playing. Some people, for example, associate certain notes with specific colors. As a middle school tuba player I developed a mental visual organization system for the notes that was based on how each note physically felt when I played it. I relied on that system to help me navigate from note to note long before I developed the aural skills that would help me place notes later. Like my student, my technique on the tuba was in many ways shaped by the way I conceived of the notes mentally. And also like my student, I had to relearn my technique later because (surprise!) my strange middle school concept of notes on the tuba did not serve me as I advanced in music.
As a college applied instructor, I have found that most of the teaching I do is centered around breaking habits that were formed when the student was much younger, and building new, healthier habits that are more conducive to long-term success. On brass instruments, much of this revolves around the mental processes involved in playing. At some point, we all need to take a long, hard look at what is going through our mind while we play.
In the Practice Room
The next time you’re practicing, choose an étude or a piece that you have played many times, and know well. Use a run-through of that piece as an opportunity to enter observation mode. Do you play any mind games with yourself? Do you visualize or hear the notes before you play them? Do you have a mental visual concept of musical phrases? Do you get competitive with yourself, challenging yourself to extend a streak of correct notes? Do you mentally scold yourself for missed notes or bad technique? Our mental processes while we play are truly unique to us as individuals. You may find some disturbing trends, but you will probably also notice whatever is truly “you” about your playing mentality. That’s something that you want to preserve.
In my experience, even a slight re-tooling of my mental processes can result in major changes in my playing, or at least in the way that I perceive my playing. This can be a helpful exercise when the various technical studies we employ seem to fail us. We’ve all had the experience of practicing a passage in every possible way we know, only to hear the same mistakes or imperfections over and over again. In moments like these, we may not be able to magically upgrade our technique over the span of a few minutes (or even hours). But what we can do is pay special attention to our mental processes, and through that attention strengthen our mental concept of the music we play. A clear musical concept is not a replacement for good technique, but good technique will take us nowhere without a clear musical concept.