The Most Challenging Musical Quest – Part 3

In the first two parts of this series I have shared with you the various challenges I have faced in my musical and personal life, yet as challenging as they may have been, what remains to be done will perhaps be the most challenging: figuring out who I am at this moment and having the courage to be that person in front of others.

I remember a time a few years ago when I asked multi-instrumentalist Joe Craven if he ever felt awkward playing multiple instruments at the same time, as he often plays percussion with hands while “mouthing” other percussion sounds, while switching to mandolin and fiddle. By “awkward”, I meant that I, too, could do that to an extent, but had felt like I was showing off or bragging in doing so.

I clearly remember his response: “No,” followed by a gesture that indicated that that was a silly question. I don’t know why I was reluctant to display my talents, particularly considering how much time I had spent developing them. Perhaps it was an old pledge I made to myself back in High School where, after witnessing a friend’s constant bragging, I swore I would never do that, preferring others to speak highly of me rather than myself.

Joe’s words and reaction stayed with me. But there is a difference between bragging and simply “being.” I do have skills I have developed, so why not display them?

I didn’t really think of it much after speaking with Joe, but little by little, I “allowed” myself to do whatever I wanted onstage (and off.) His friendly dismissal of my question gave me permission to be my own awesome self. And that’s what we all need in life to excel, to strive, to fly free of other people’s opinions.

This makes me wonder what else I may be holding back when I perform:
Am I able to be emotionally vulnerable? Some songs need tenderness; some need power.
Am I able to have a powerful presence onstage? Superstars aren’t afraid to use the entire stage, either physically or energetically; imagine Prince, Santana, James Brown, Beyonce…

I must remember – it’s a show! We are supposed to be larger than real life! We are supposed to create an ambiance, a space where the audience can participate in a fantasy of sorts if even for a few minutes. Actors on stage are never “themselves” – they are playing a role and we buy into that for the duration of the production.

That, dear readers, is my most challenging musical quest – to be able to be bigger than I am onstage, whether it be a simple open-mic or a full blown stage show. And though I mentioned some pretty outrageous superstars, there are many more laid-back performers, too. The point is, that we – you and I – have every right to develop our uniqueness and confidently present that quality when performing, whether you are just starting out or have been doing it for years (decades) as I have.

And I have a feeling that this path never ends – we simply get on it and, step by step, advance.

Please comment if you have any thoughts about this concept. Have you felt awkward being yourself? Why? What did you do about it? Knowing we are not alone is a comfort and motivator.

Thank you.

Has this blog gotten off track?

Dear Readers,

I wish to address what might be thought of as a slight discrepancy regarding the description of this blog and the material contained therein; namely that I describe this site as “rhythm and music explained simply” and yet as of late I have been writing about airplanes, microwaves, and glitter. What does all that have to do with notes, chords, and strumming?

As a music teacher and observer of players of all levels, I have come to realize that the biggest stumbling block we all face in learning something new (particularly music) is to see the “big picture.” Oh, we can study to infinitude the details of music: chords, rhythms, scales; and memorize specific passages of popular songs; but unless we develop a “feel” for music and understand how musicians relate to each other and the music they are creating, our efforts will merely be mechanical at best.

And so, in order to help us see the larger picture of creating music, I employ the generous use of analogies; comparisons of everyday situations we’re likely familiar with, to musical situations – the ones we’ve yet to learn. Of course, as a hobbyist philosopher, I realize that these represent my own opinions and experiences. (Ask another musician how they “think” and you will likely receive another description.)

Moving on – the other, and possibly more insidious, stumbling block to learning is that of the student refusing to accept the possibility that they are on the path to actual learning. “I can’t learn…,” or “I will never be…” are common statements that essentially sabotage success.

So how do I help you with learning to play and appreciate music?

There are countless websites that are full of technical information – all the scales, modes, chords, and theory one would ever need; yet I have seen none that approach the learning of music from the angle I provide. I am hoping that you, dear readers, will take advantage of my writings, musings, and philosophical analogies to supplement your musical aspirations.

Finally, I do encourage you to write me and ask questions, make comments, and participate in the conversation I am initiating.

Sincerely,

Rhan Wilson

Some Teachers are Too Eager to Please

“I am so happy to be here in the air flying with you,” said the eager co-pilot. “You know, I have been taking lessons for years now from a very skilled pilot who has been teaching me all about the history of the airplane, its construction, and the various manufacturers who have been building models like this one we are in, as well as others. Learning to fly has always been a dream for me.”

“Excellent, “ replied the pilot. “How about you take the yoke for awhile and guide us over these farms towards that airstrip in the distance; you can land us there.”

“Oh goodness no,” gasped the co-pilot. “I haven’t learned that yet. My teacher has only been teaching me about airplanes; not how to actually fly one.”

To my amazement, I find that many music teachers are too eager to please the student in their requests, but as the student is often ignorant of the order in which would best serve their aspirations, they ask to be taught step 5 when in fact they have not learned steps 1-4.

“I want to learn theory,” the student asks, assuming this is the goal to which all musicians aspire.

Further assuming the student knows the necessary basics, the teacher is pleased to grant the request and begins the teaching of theory; the primarily left-brained detailia of the facts and intricacies of music thinking and processing.

But, to change analogies, the most detailed and extravagant home designed by the most brilliant of architects, must still be built upon the proper foundation or else it will suffer collapse and ruin upon the first steps taken therein. And it is this foundation: perhaps the least interesting of the entire building endeavor… it is this very foundation that is the most important of the entire project. This is where the building begins.

And so with music, the most important skill to first learn is to play simply and on the beat; with a sense of what that beat is.

Would one attempt to teach a toddler how to execute a cartwheel without first teaching the little tyke how to walk?

And so I encounter these committed and studious musicians who can talk intervals and modes in detail, and yet cannot play a simple rhythm with any confidence or understanding.  This, I feel, is a great injustice to the student who, not knowing what to ask for, was given what they thought they needed; and the teacher, wishing to accommodate their pupil, gives them what they asked for rather than helping them build that musical foundation they need in order to utilize that advanced knowledge.

Now I ask that you please understand my position here: learn anything you want, but realize that in order to actually play music with others, there has to be a balance between the left brain and the right; the facts and the feel, the yin and the yang. When musicians get together to play, whether casually or in a formal setting, they may speak of modes and intervals, but it’s certain they already know how to count and adjust their playing as needed.

Decide for yourself whether you wish to play music, or to simply talk about it.

Playing Music with a Microwave

A lot of people come to me for music lessons and what I have learned is that I must first ask of them this question: “Do you want to learn to play music, or do you want to be able to just heat something up in the microwave?”

Now that I’ve possibly confused you with this horrible mixed metaphor – allow me to explain: If one were to take a cooking class, it’s doubtful that a good teacher would spend much time, if any, on how to take a package out of the freezer, place it in the microwave, and serve it. Instead, the student would learn a variety of basics: how to use measuring utensils, proper knife techniques, doubling portions, etc.; beginning with simple recipes, moving on to more sophisticated ones, and eventually learning to create sumptuous meals from scratch.

So when a student comes to me with the goal of learning how to play their favorite song or play along with their weekend community sing-along, I start them off with the basics: how to count in time, basic chords, simple charts/songsheets; incorporating little bits of theory and knowledge along the way – all towards the goal of teaching them to play “from scratch” – that is, being able to play along with others with or without music to follow.

But they often lose interest and are discouraged because they thought that, somehow, there were shortcuts they could use to avoid having to learn; that there were the equivalents of “microwave-ready” music skills they could master in a few minutes that would require little or no effort that they could use in all situations forever.

Playing music doesn’t really work that way.

Take conversing, for instance: you can’t really learn a few stock sentences and simply place them into a conversation and expect them to make sense every time. As children beginning to talk, we learn how to substitute words and to change from past to future tense as needed. Each conversation is unique and we must be able to keep up with what’s being said.

And so it is with playing music. You simply can’t learn a trick of two and expect to use it in all situations. Tempos change, arrangements vary, and unexpected hiccups occur, even in a well rehearsed number.

But these are not difficult challenges. If you learn the basics, adjusting your tempo mid song is as easy as adding a teaspoon of water to thin out a sauce. That difficult sounding chord you’ve been avoiding? You just may find out it’s a simple as adding a little Dijon mustard to a sauce you already know how to make.

There’s nothing wrong with “zapping” a burrito now and then, but when you’ve taken the time to learn to gather a few items from the fridge, add a bit of seasoning, and cook them up into a delicious, satisfying meal – there’s nothing like it.

And when you pick up your favorite instrument, strum a few chords, and make up a song (or figure out an existing one) – you won’t believe the joy and sense of satisfaction you will feel.

Learning is like glitter…

Have you ever been present when there’s glitter thrown around or opened a card containing the some of the shiny stuff? It gets everywhere. Some of it lands on you where you can see it; some of it lands on the floor; and some of it, despite your best efforts to sweep it all up and throw away, is found later hidden in some pocket or crease in your clothing.

What if we imagined that learning is similar to having glitter tossed about us?

When we try to learn something it often seems that too much information has been thrown about, and that much of it lands on the floor and is wasted. We might have picked up a couple of bits of information, like the glitter that lands on us visibly, but after we process that information (cleaned up and vacuumed the floor) we might think that we learned all that we could at the time.

But like glitter, some of that information gets lodged in some cranny of our brains without our knowing it, and is likely to resurface at some time in the future.

Be on the lookout for those random glittery bits of information. And be confident that more will surface in time.