Reframing Practice

We have all heard (and most likely even said) "practice makes perfect."

Lie.

Or maybe you've heard (or even said) its nicer version "practice makes progress."

Better. But still...

I think I have had the wrong understanding of practice for the past 37 years of my life. I think I defined practice as work. But what if we reframe that into two very different aspects of a musician's career? There is practice and there is work.

Work is the performance. Practice is the study.

Work's goal is to perform the music seamlessly for an audience. Practice's goal is to isolate weakness and build technique.

Work's mistake strategy is to cover or mask instantly. Practice's mistake strategy is to target them.

Work's metal focus is on expression, musical flow, and connecting with the audience. Practice's mental focus is on the mechanics of playing the instrument (or singing).

Most people who know me, know my career as a band director and composer, but only my oldest friends and family know how much I loved being a bassoonist.

25-30 years ago, I was a damn good bassoonist. I loved playing, but hated practicing (sight-reading was my jam). I loved performing with chamber ensembles, wind ensembles, and orchestras, but never wanted to perform solo (out of fear of messing up and not being good enough). After spending one and a half years as a bassoon performance major in undergrad and developing an unhealthy disdain for the practice room, I switched to composition. I still played through undergrad and took the scholarship-required private lessons.

Fast-forward: I so badly miss playing with an orchestra. I consistently play with a really talented community band (but it's band, so I could  be a mime 80% of the time). I want to submit an audition video for an orchestra about an hour away, but here I am: a 48yo self-deprecating, practice-hating, plateaued has-been bassoonist who never truly was. But, I have decided to push past this rut and move forward in my career.

After considering that work and practice are two distinct aspects of a musical career, I now see that I never truly treated practice as practice. I treated it like the outcome. I treated it like a performance.