I often have students come into their lessons and the first words out of their mouth are "I'm sorry I didn't have much time to practice much this week."
Let me tell you, that is the second worst thing any music teacher wants to hear. The worst thing, of course, is hearing a student say they practiced tons, only to find out the truth when they start trying to play.
I mean, on one hand, at least they're being honest. Honesty is a good thing. Kids are taught to be honest, I don't want to discourage that. But at some point, the frustration sets in and one wonders "why are these kids taking private music lessons in the first place?"
Because here's the thing. There is absolutely no way anyone can possibly become good at it if they only do it once a week. That doesn't just apply to music, that applies to everything in life. The way the human mind learns and processes the ability to do any particular skill depends on consistent repetition. Simply put, the more often you do a thing, the better you get at it.
Music is a skill that depends on precise motor coordination and muscle movement, in addition to a complex series of thought processes which all need to happen at nearly the same time. Think about it: musicians are expected to decode a double-cipher (convert a series of dots and lines into letter names from A to G, then convert those letter names into the appropriate tones on an instrument) at a very high rate of speed, anywhere from 60 to 360 times per minute, and at the same time to use very physical muscle activity in fingers, hands, facial muscles, lips, tongue and lungs, coordinating all of that in order to perform that series of tones in a way that will evoke an emotional response from listeners. That's a lot of stuff going on!
And yet, hardly any of us think about all of that while it's happening. The reason we don't think about it is because we have practiced it so many times so often that it has become completely automatic. That's the same thing with reading and writing, and even speaking. Those are things most people grew up with and can do them without thinking. When you write the letter "A" in pencil on a piece of paper, are you thinking to yourself "draw two lines at an angle that intersects at the top, and then draw a third line that crosses the other two"? No, you think to yourself "A" and your hand knows how to draw it on the paper. Did you always know how to write the letter "A"? No, you had to learn how to do it. At some point, probably around age 5 or 6, you spent a lot of time writing lots of A's on a piece of paper until your hand memorized how to do it. When you speak, are you thinking to yourself how to form the syllables into words with your tongue in your mouth, calculating just exactly how much air needs to expel from your lungs across your vocal chords? No, of course not, you've been speaking for almost your entire life, you just think the words and they come out of your mouth. But did you always know how to speak? No, you spent some time as a baby making syllables and forming words and eventually you learned to use those words to communicate.
Playing a musical instrument is a lot like learning to speak or write. The eventual goal is to be able to have the act of playing the instrument itself become completely thoughtless, completely automatic. At that point your mind is free to focus on the actual art itself, using the language of music to communicate ideas and evoke an emotional response in your listener. (Remember, that's what this whole thing is about - getting people to feel something when they hear you play) But that kind of skill, like any other skill, takes years to master. And, like any other skill, it needs consistent repetition in order to develop to the level where you're able to do it without thinking about it.
Try this experiment: Think back to yesterday. Try to remember everything you did yesterday, from the time you woke up to the time you went to bed. Remember as much detail as you can. Think about where you went; what you did; who you talked to; what you saw and heard. Only 1 day ago, it's not too difficult to recall a fairly complete mental picture of your entire day, complete with details.
Now think back to 3 days ago - same thing: try to remember as completely as you can everything you did 3 days ago. Where you went; what you did, who you talked to, etc. If you're like most people, you can still form a decent picture of the big events that happened, but the details are a lot fuzzier after 3 days.
Now go back a whole week. Do you remember what you were doing a week ago? Try to remember everything that happened to you a week earlier. Most people find it incredibly difficult to remember anything but the big items from a week ago; the minor passing items are less easy to remember, and the little minuscule details are next to impossible.
Playing a musical instrument, as we know, is a very detail-oriented skill. So if you, as a music student, go even 3 days without practicing, if you only practice your instrument once or twice a week, how likely is it that you'll remember the details from the last time you picked it up? If you sit through your lesson and your teacher gives you specific things to work on, how likely is it that you'll remember what those specific things are if you wait an entire week before you look at them again in the next lesson?
If, on the other hand, you make the time to work on your lesson material at least once every day, it'll be seven times easier to remember every little detail about everything you're working on. I can't emphasize this enough. Spending a little time every day is much more productive than spending a lot of time once a week.
I challenge you as students to choose one thing: a scale study, or an arpeggio study, or a jazz tune, something you've got that needs some work, and then make time to work on that one thing every day for a week. Spend serious time on it, don't just play it once and gloss over the hard parts, but really work on it. If, at the end of just one week, you haven't improved immensely after working on it every day, then you can say I'm wrong. But I'm not wrong.
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