What are we really trying to achieve when we practice?
What is the point of practicing? As classical musicians, we spend so much of our time in the practice room or locked in our bedroom, practicing away. But do we ever really stop and think about what it really means to practice? What is the goal of cloistering ourselves for hours at a time? After thinking about this for nearly my entire life (so far), I believe there are really only two underlying goals for any kind of practice. You might ask, why have I thought about this so much?
The most I ever practiced in a day was seven hours. I was deep into sophomore year at my undergrad, where I was studying for my performance degree on both violin and viola. Each week I had two lessons to prepare for, with two different sets of repertoire, in addition to orchestra, chamber music, and everything else expected of a music major. Since becoming serious about classical music in high school, I had heard that the “four-hour practice day” was the pinnacle of practice achievement: one hour of scales and arpeggios, one hour of etudes, an hour of detail work on assigned repertoire (Bach, concertos, sonatas, etc.), and a final hour on longer stretches of passage work and run throughs. Of course, this is not the only way to divide a practice day, but was how I was taught and I still generally ascribe to its effectiveness.
So, one day during sophomore year, I set out to achieve a four-hour practice day on both instruments. The goal was to hit eight hours total: starting first with four hours of violin and ending the day with viola. Of course, this was not my only task for the day. I had class in the morning, orchestra rehearsal in the afternoon, and at some point I’d have to eat during this endurance run of sorts.
As I already foreshadowed, I only made it to 7 attempted hours of practice before 11:00pm, when the practice rooms at the Humanities Building closed. I was exhausted, physically and mentally, but not defeated. Even though I missed my mark of eight total hours, I still felt a sense of accomplishment. I put in the work, buckled in, and practiced more by quantity in one day than I ever had before (and since). But was it worth it? Probably not. This exercise in determination and grit was not feasibly repeatable— maybe once in a while but certainly not daily or weekly. Maybe I could accomplish this once every month, but why should I subject myself to this kind of marathon practicing so regularly? Who has time to practice so much, especially out of school (in the “real world”) with real obligations to gigs, paying rent, and keeping oneself healthy through exercise and socializing (not to mention that being mentally and physically healthy improves our artistic capabilities). In our world where time is such a precious commodity, knowing how to maximize productivity in limited practice time means everything.
So, what is the point of practicing? Practicing enough hours each day so your teacher is happy? Hitting the right number of repetitions and checking off boxes to make sure you played everything you need to practice? Perhaps unfortunately, practicing an instrument isn’t like following a workout routine or completing your multiplication tables– we can’t just rely on completing repetitions, or filling up an hour’s worth of time (or four) and calling it a day. How can we quantify practice?
While Carnegie Hall says, “practice, practice, practice;” Regina Spektor sings, “better, better, better.” The simple answer is that practicing is “to get better.” If only it were so simple. Or is it? We can actually define “better” in two ways. Better can either be 1) achieving at a higher level or 2) achieving the same quality but with less effort. That’s it. Build new, or renovate/remodel. We either practice to do better than we did previously, or to produce the same result with less work. For musicians, improving accuracy, bettering intonation, and increasing tone quality all fall under this umbrella of playing better. For athletes, this means running faster, lifting heavier, or increasing VO2 max. Of course this list is non-exhaustive: each discipline, instrument, and circumstance has its own list of possible improvements, from smoothing shifting noise, circular breathing, and producing better diction to setting a new PR, improving a drop shot, or hitting a better drive.
Why should we care, isn’t this obvious?
If it is for you, great! But some day in the future– it could be tomorrow, next week, or maybe even a month from now– you might find yourself stuck or unmotivated to practice.” Maybe you’re tired, overwhelmed by the amount of music you need to practice, or wholly unmotivated to workout even though you have a long run or training block scheduled for that day. Whatever the reason, in that moment of questioning putting in the work, I want you to think about “better.”
All you need to do to foster improvement is either to make something a little better, or make it a little easier to do. Hopefully, this one tiny success will then catalyze other successes after it, turning a frustrating training session into a productive endeavor. This idea is not a secret, but rather a useful framework for when successful practice seems out of reach. Start simple: try and play a little more in tune, or with better tone. Try running at stride with a little less effort or strain, or repeating a technical exercise with better form each time. Instead of focusing on the end goal like “I have to be able to play this passage in tempo by the end of today” or “I need to run ten miles today,” reframe the goal of training to just get “better.” Getting a little better, in any capacity, contributes toward long-term wins.
Even finding new musical phrasing or expression can fall under this umbrella term of getting “better.”. While musicality is hard to quantify, the act of practicing to find new or different phrasing is in the broader service of finding a “better” musical gesture. Better here is undeniably subjective: performance circumstances might dictate one artistic decision over another, and “better” is not always better in every occasion or performance. However, the act of building serviceable creative options is a form of betterment. If anything, adding artistic options to one’s performance possibilities is improvement. An oil painter with more colors and space for shading on their palette has infinitely more options than one with a limited spectrum to paint from, just as a baseball pitcher who can throw more than a fastball, curveball, and slider.
So how do we make ourselves better?
At this point you might be thinking, “It’s easy to say ‘just do it better next time,’ but a whole other thing to actually make an improvement.” How do we set ourselves up for betterment? In short, if we want to play something at a higher level than the last (“better” version 1), we need to make a compromise to allow ourselves the space for greater success. In other words, how can we make it easier so we can try to achieve a better result? Slowing down, breaking into parts, or simplifying the task (such as by practicing one hand at a time) are all ways we compromise in practice to raise our chances at achieving a higher level of output.
Consider “woodshedding” practice. The practice of woodshedding– bringing passages up to tempo or performance proficiency– begins by drastically reducing the difficulty of the task in order to make it achievable. Then, it involves removing unnecessary efforts or actions in order to bring the music at performance tempo. Woodshedding begins by compromising speed, followed by a progressive return to performance difficulty as the learner works to increase their efficiency in executing the passagework. Increased efficiency means success with less effort, saving energy for ensuing musical phrases and intention during a performance.
Sometimes, finding “better” can be difficult for us on our own. That’s why we take lessons! Our teachers keep our learning on track and give us the information we need to grow our artistry and change our technique for the better. Teachers motivate us, and weekly lessons keep us honest and consistent in our practicing regimen. The same goes with attending concerts, watching masterclasses, and even reading blogs and articles about practicing. All these interactions can inspire us to take out our instruments and get a little better.
Most times, we can imagine what slightly better can sound or feel like. If we can imagine it, chances are we can figure out a way to accomplish it! When we feel stuck and unable to meet our imagined “better,” we should ask for help by scheduling a lesson, reaching out to colleagues, or seeing if there is any material online which could be useful.
Takeaways and Final Thoughts
In the practice room, much of our time can be spent by trying to achieve better than we have achieved before, or achieving similar results with less effort. By setting our improvement goals to these two parameters, we push the ceiling of our abilities and ensure productive practice. By aiming for better returns, we strive for greatness, and by aiming to succeed with less effort, we efficiently refining our technique and approach. These goals work in tandem: getting better often requires more effort, and leads to practice aimed at becoming more efficient. In turn, succeeding with less effort creates opportunity to apply more effort to succeed at even higher levels. As such, practicing for “better” and for reducing effort work in tandem to raise our overall performance ability.
Usually, we already know what we need to accomplish during a practice or training session. We have pieces to learn for an upcoming concert, etude and scale assignments from a teacher, and long runs or gym routines scheduled by coaches. Each of these tasks represent a mid- or long-range goal of improving for a future event. Engaging a mindset of practicing for “better” or “less effort” adds a present-minded goal for that current practice session. Moreover, on days which productive practice feels impossible, setting a mindset of either working towards betterment or shedding effort creates achievable objectives within that practice session itself. Rather than setting concrete goals (like “memorize this by the end of the day” or “get this up to performance tempo in an hour”), deciding to improve quality or reduce effort meets you where you are at each day. Some days will be more productive than others, and setting these goals facilitates improvement even on your worst practice days. When the goals are actionable, success follows soon thereafter.
Practicing with the goal of getting better or reducing effort in our execution leads to practice sessions which feel as fruitful and fulfilling as they are efficient and productive. If we can increase our chances of improving and feeling good while doing it, why not give it a chance?
Happy Practicing.