You know how we all get peaks and troughs? Well, I do at least. Trouble is, mine seem to be pretty steep. I went to this thing, this last weekend, a sort of all weekend session thing. Considering the long drive on the Friday, I thought I coped quite well on the Friday night, and didn’t entirely make an idiot of myself.
But my playing just deteriorated dramatically over the course of the weekend, to the point where I just had to pack up and leave early (much earlier than I had intended) on the Sunday. Looking back on it, it was just dreadful. (Fiddle playing, I’m talking about - strangely, I was quite happy with my flute playing.)
Now, this has happened to me many times. I have a feeling that it happens to us all - or at least, to most of us - from time to time. But what I find frustrating is that I can never figure out how to get out of it. I can never quite figure out what makes me able to play again, or even, when I’m in the real bottom of the ditch, whether I will in fact get out of it. When I eventually do, I can remember clearly thinking, every time, that it was obvious what was wrong, and how to get out of it, and that I must remember this for the next time. But I never actually do remember it.
Note to self: when I’m able to play so as not to shame the very rafters of the house, remember to write down the “obvious” things, about what was wrong and how to put it/them right so that, next time I’m in the ditch I don’t just lie there getting soaked through with mud.
Not at the moment - well, not on fiddle, anyway, and that is kind of important to me. I’m currently taking the view that the best thing to do is to go back to the woodshed. I’m deconstructing. I have a feeling that it’ll take me about a fortnight’s hard work to get back to a basic level of competence. Mind you, if that proves to be the case, I’d take that.
An interestingly different take. But I’d be surprised if my critical faculties have improved much over the last 35 years or so. So your apparent crumb of comfort may turn out to be particularly lacking in nutriment.
Maybe your playing isn’t changing at all, but your expectations change dramatically when hearing other people play? Perhaps while you think your critical listening skills haven’t changed… they have? (I couldn’t find a nicer way of wording that, so I’m very sorry in advance)
The thing is, there are definitely times when I think I’m playing great, then I hear other people and realize I’m not. And there are lots of times when I hear new things from recordings I’ve already listened to, to death. I know my ability to hear hasn’t improved or deteriorated, but my perception does change.
Someone has said a few times around these boards that periodic visits to “the well” are needed to refresh one’s playing. I think that’s true for most people. Maybe you need to go play with great players now while you’re in the trough?
For what it’s worth, when I go to weekend things like that, I usually find my playing improved. I often suffer post-festival let down and stop playing for a few days, but during the event it’s just more and more fun… usually anyway. So maybe we’re too different for my advice or insight to be accurate.
For me, how well I’m playing is secondary to how much fun I’m having, which has more to do with how much banter there is with other musicians or if I’m feeling totally excluded or whatever. I don’t mind if I’m rubbish (which is most of the time anyway) so long as the overall craic is good and I can have a bit of a laugh.
So perhaps… find more enjoyment out of other aspects of the session, rather than just your own playing?
Lots of interesting stuff in there, Nico. And you don’t have to worry about offending. I wasn’t at all bothered about the comparison between my playing and other people’s. As it happens (sorry anybody who’s reading - I don’t mean it nastily), I didn’t think all that much of most of the playing at that weekend. It was kind of OK. Some was fine, and some was not so fine, and most was in between. No, it was just my own playing, being, to me, suck-worthy, that bothered me.
Go play with great players? Now, there’s a thought. I’d know where to go. But I can’t get there just now. There is one fella whose playing might help … hmmm …
I have worked something out - when I go to a festival, or some such, my playing does at least stay at the same level, or even improve. But there is one small difference that maybe makes a big difference to my playing. Whenever I’m at those things, I find a way too have, say, 10 minutes playing by myself some time during the day. But at this thing, that wasn’t possible. I was staying at an ordinary hotel, and I just didn’t find an opportunity for that private time. I think that might have made a big difference.
Thanks again for the support, Emily, but it isn’t about what other people thought of my playing (apart from the embarassment of it all ) - it’s about me not liking it.
That’s your way of saying “Get over yourself already!” isn’t it?
Seriously though, I don’t need to think my own playing is great in order to enjoy myself in sessions. I enjoy other people’s playing. And I enjoy the companionship and the intimacy and the general crack. So, I don’t have to on great form - I just have to be not on rubbish form.
At a workshop I attended years ago the teacher* told the class that is was very important to understand as much as possible of how you played because all players (even the very best) run through patches of losing ‘it’ and getting it back means you have to know what you do when it is working.
A little alone time to practice is very useful to tune up your playing, to keep out of bad habits. So maybe that you didn’t have any time to practice alone was a big part of the problem
*The teacher was John Mack - who was for years the principal oboist with the Cleveland Symphony and a truly wonderful teacher and not a bad oboist either!
To be clear, I meant that maybe in that type of situation, your ear “turns on”. Your playing hasn’t changed, but hearing those around you, you hear it more accurately. I think that this can happen regardless of whether around good or bad players.
That said, (and seeing that Emily was in attendance I must be clear I am speaking generally, I have no really accurate idea of the playing of anyone in attendance, especially you Ben, and I do not mean to offend) one thing I notice is that while when I play with great players, my playing improves, the converse is also true: when playing with players who are not great, I find my playing deteriorates. Maybe I am a sponge, maybe I’m unable to hold my own, and am constantly influenced by what I hear, and maybe we are alike in that regard. But, I notice in particular that my rhythm and phrasing suffer when playing with people who have erratic rhythm and phrasing.
Hmmm. When I slump, I usually find it more helpful to go not to the woodshed, but to the … woods. Or the seashore, or cinema, or the new Angry Birds amusument park opening soon near you. Anything but music.
Sometimes, when things are not going well in life, we may turn to our music for relief, respite, solace, distraction, etc. But that may be asking too much. You end up trying too hard in your own playing, over-thinking it, and raising your expectations too high for others. Both your production and your enjoyment can suffer.
Put all your instruments away in their pretty cases for a few days or a week, and just chill.
When you come back, you may just rediscover that you can actually play the things.
Oh, the answer to that is easy. Don’t. “Attention! You there, with Dr. Gilbert’s. This is the music police. Put the fiddle down and step … away … from … the … instrument.”
Dr. Gilbert’s only makes the wind players angry. They retaliate by playing a bunch of Brian Finnegan tunes. It’s an ugly scenario.
) - it’s about me not liking it.
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