Focused deliberate practice involves repetitive use of connections in the brain. This results in myelin building through repetitive movement. There is no shortcut. If there is such a thing as talent, which has been assumed to lead in some magical way to accomplishment, then it can only be claimed after the fact of accomplishment has been proven. To refer to talent is a complete waste of time. Belief in “talent” causes one to lose sight of what is important: deliberate focused practice.
When I was first learning Irish music Seamus Creagh told me that there was no such thing as practising too slowly. How right he was. Now it’s a scientific fact!
Also, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to play super fast because I did not start playing this music as a lad (in fact, I started at 40). And you know what–that’s fine with me. It bothers me a bit if I’m in a session and hot shots start playing at breakneck speed and I can’t keep up, but only for a moment. Then I usually just do my best or stop and enjoy the music. They can’t help it if they are fast running, highly-trained-from-youth thoroughbreds.
I do what I do and work on doing it the best I can. That’s enough.
I would refer those with an interest in this to “Bounce” by Matthew Syed.
He was a top level sportsman and is now a top level writer.
He explodes the talent myth.
Practice, rehearsal, hard work, persistence, method, determination, self-belief gives you talent !!
One could get into all sorts of semantics and debate all sorts of variables (IQ and motor/spatial development and so on)
I guess each individual in this world has a starting point and can progress from there
The fact is that the vast majority of us underachieve and never reach our full potential.
A dedicated few do.
I remember Robbie H telling me how obsessed he was with playing the pipes when a teenager, several hours a day, relentlessly. I imagine in a couple of years he put in more practice time than I have in 20.
That sort of immersion in learning and development will have an effect.
Some are better than others at learning and developing.
No-one picks an instrument up and plays it expertly without a lot of hours (years) of practice and perfecting.
Neither did I but I can certainly burn the wood now. It’s just practice. Listen to Julia!
However high speed is not at all essential. In fact it can be down right irritating if someone is pulling it over the edge. So I certainly agree with that!
It took a while for me to understand that it’s the pulse, the phrasing, and lift you get from that which is far more important than speed. Remember that most of this stuff is dance music and besides that… no one wants to listen to fast crap.
What’s that joke about the Old Bull and his young son looking over valley of cows?
Let me paraphrase… “Hey Dad! Let’s run down an play us a few tunes!!.. No son. Let’s walk down and play them all.”
When I was first learning Irish music Seamus Creagh told me that there was no such thing as practising too slowly. How right he was.
Seamus Still one of my favorite fiddle players ever. And such a wise man.
“If you can’t play it slow, you can’t play it fast.” – Beverly Buchanan
I’ve heard some say mastery takes 10,000 hours. Makes sense to me. Whether you’re playing slow or fast, the hours pass the same. So it’s what happens INSIDE those 10,000 hours that really counts. Do you want to learn to fear a certain trouble spot forever, or train yourself to make the same mistake over and over … or do you want to slow down and work your way around that pothole, or better yet, not make the mistake in the first place?
The older I get the more I enjoy working things out, especially on the pipes. But it took me a while to get there.
I suppose if you spend 10,000 hours playing like a mad idiot you’ll master that, too. (I’ve probably put in more than 5,000 there, and I’ve gotten pretty darn good at it! )
Talent is is what makes you stick to Practice, rehearsal, hard work, persistence, method, determination and self-belief.
In the oft-quoted German music college study, (can’t remember the proper name,) there were no talented geniuses who’d got brilliant without putting in the effort. The future soloists had that something that enabled them to put in the hours. The future music teachers (presumably) watched tv or spent time on Facebook.
When I look at things I have become quite good at I enjoyed much of the trip, not just the destination. In high school I would practice throwing the baton higher and higher for hours in our yard. When I marched out onto the field at age 16 I never thought about dropping the baton and I never doubted the band was right behind me (of course I could hear them). Confidence is sort of a chicken and egg thing but I still look for activities where I enjoy the practice part.
Conversely, I love mountaineering but I hate to train and I am too old anymore to go “off the couch”. So the amount of talent is irrelevant because I will never train hard enough to reach my potential.
David was describing how to build up your technique
to a good level. However, that doesn’t give you creative
settings or a fresh style that sets you apart.
Partly that would come from listening a lot but mostly it just drops
down from the sky – some outstanding examples I can think of:
Tommy Potts
Tommy Peoples
Tola Custy
Niall Keegan
Niall Vallely
K. A. Elliot and others 1993.
IIRC the authors could not rule out some element of selection (possibly by parents or teachers) at a young age, on the basis ‘aptitude’, leading to the musicians being in a position to be included in the study.
Is there a risk that something learned perfectly by slow practice cannot be later adjusted to suite different stylistic needs ?
Hup, its very American, isn’t it, to want to be distinctive and to stand out? To have “creative settings” and “a fresh style.” The myth of the individual persists. OTH, most people here want to fit in and to be part of a pleasant evening. It isn’t about being exceptional but rather about having an acceptable level of accomplishment and being able to contribute to the group.
Tommy Potts, et. al., did not have his genius fall from the sky. He developed his technique (intonation, rhythm, phrasing) through hours and hours of focused practice. Daniel Coyle, in The Talent Code, quotes Michelangelo: “If people knew how hard I had to to work to gain my mastery it would not seem so wonderful at all.”
It is not surprising that Tola Custy is as good as he is. He is the son of Frank, who started Sharon Shannon and Siobhan Peoples on their way at an early age. It isn’t so much genetics as it is early exposure. Frank taught them how to practice, which is a form of intense, focused listening. Catherine McEvoy, whose style is wonderfully distinctive, told me how she would get home from secondary school and go to her room to play the flute for three or four hours before dinner. Every great player will tell you the same thing: it took hours to achieve a level of mastery of the instrument.
What really sets each of us apart, and gives us the ability to develop a distinct style, is the result of the thousands of hours we have spent engaged in intense, focused practice. The creativity that you speak of is the result of technical excellence developed over the years. Without the technical ability a distinctive style in itself wouldn’t mean very much.
Indeed. It’s like language. The better you know your voice and the more words you have, the more eloquently you can speak. And even there, expression is different. If we’d been able to give Ogden Nash and Seamus Heaney (rest them both!) the same words, I bet we’d wind up with very different results.
I still believe that certain skills or abilities come together differently for different people, and that might be where the notion of “talent” comes from – some people have great memories, some have great ears, some have great confidence – but the common thing that happens in mastery is practice.
And fruitful practice can take some practice, too. Some people who seem to advance really fast might also be really, really good at practicing!
When I get frustrated about not being able to play as fast as I’d like I try to remember this video. Especially the part about not going off to the races when playing for the Lancers. I’d be happy to be able to play at this speed with the same passion.
"You cannot achieve speed by speedy practice.
The only way to get fast is to be deep, wide awake, and slow.
When you habitually zip through your music, your ears are crystallizing in sloppiness.
Pray for the patience of a stonecutter. Pray to understand that speed is one of those things you have to give up - like love - before it comes flying to you through the back window."
Here is an interesting New Yorker article about the 10,000 hour rule. This rule roughly says: research shows that, for the most part, if you want to be an expert at something you need to spend on average 10,000 hours of focused work on it. Talent does enter the equation, but is less core to success than you might think. I think it is fair to say that if you put in 10,000 hours of focused practice on your flute that, even with no talent, you will be very very good at least. http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/sportingscene/2013/08/psychology-ten-thousand-hour-rule-complexity.html
Cathy said it perfectly: …fruitful practice can take some practice, too. Some people who seem to advance really fast might also be really, really good at practicing!
You have to learn to love slow, focussed practice. You have to learn to love to play that way. It isn’t just holding the flute or the fiddle for 10,000 hours, but playing a particular way during that time. People who seem to learn quickly aren’t necessarily fast learners so much as they are slow practicers of the music. The best learning aid isn’t the metronome but The Amazing Slowdowner (Roni Music).
Lorenzo’s reference is helpful and worth reading: While [time spent] is a valid concern, a more important question is how we can make each hour count.
Still one of my favorite fiddle players ever. And such a wise man.
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