How do musicians learn? Do we learn something every time we play? What do we learn? 

These questions, although often characteristically thought to be quite intrinsic in studying music, more often than not, highlight the difference between a good musician and a better one.

The realisation came to me when I was teaching 7-year-old Max. Max had dyslexia, and although I didn’t know it for sure at the time, I began to alter the way my lessons with Max worked. You see Max understood that he was actively learning. He could not just play a piece for the sake of it like other children, but had to achieve a significant goal within each simple task.  He needed guided focus, and a sense of achievement at the end of it all. It sounds simple doesn’t it? So why don’t we all do it to maximise our potential?

To generalise for sure, musicians are used to pedalling up a steep hill against the wind. They prepare a piece to take to their teacher, the teacher outlines the weakest points, they fix the points and perform it in a concert only to be told that their interpretation was not appropriate, or they lacked a certain something. Is it this process of analysis that gives the best musicians their drive? Or is it the smaller details and focus that motivate good students to be better? The latter is my epiphany. Don’t get me wrong- the former process guided me through my first degree with flying colours, however it is the latter intention that has really improved my understanding and performance of music since.

Over the years, I have discovered that I really can maximise my learning capabilities if I reflect and write before and after the action. Before the performance or before the practice session, I will more often than not, imagine the muscle movements that are needed to play a certain difficult passage, or which create that perfect sound. After my session, I will write down how it felt to play that day, or what I learnt or could learn better. This reflection process often seems a little forced, but after time, it becomes natural, and gives me the solid evidence that I am progressing, not just playing. The analysis shouldn’t just be before and after however. More often than not, we play with the distant goal in mind, with the focus on the future, not the present. We don’t necessarily ‘listen’ to ourselves, but we ‘hear’ instead. Focusing on this solid fact of sound can be effective- no matter how obvious it is.  Distancing yourself in an existential way by putting yourself out of your body and becoming the active listener, or part of the audience, is most helpful.

Putting actions into words for musicians is often a difficult task. But this task is one of the most important parts of playing for some, because it reiterates intention. The intention is not necessarily the ultimate objective to be reached when the piece is learnt and performed, but it is the intention to learn. And that is what we are all here for, isn’t it?