By Douglas Niedt
Copyright Douglas Niedt. All Rights Reserved.
This article may be reprinted, but please be considerate and give credit to Douglas Niedt.
*Estimated minimum time to read this article: 40 minutes.
Good practice habits are invaluable. They promote both deep learning and efficient use of your valuable time.
"I would like to relate the words of the late Andrés Segovia, the greatest classical guitarist ever, who, if anyone, would be the authority on the best method of practice. This is what he taught me and told me was his method:
Do your practice in 15-minute sets. Divide each 15-minute set in half with a short 15-30 second break halfway through. At the end of each fifteen minutes, take a 3-minute break, stand up, get a glass of water, stretch, etc. but be sure to take a moment to focus your eyes on something far away to relax your eyes from the close work of the page and the fretboard and to clear your mind. Do three of these fifteen-minute sets, totaling 45 minutes of intense practice. Then, at the end of the third set, take a real break of about fifteen minutes. So, it looks like this:
- Practice for 15 minutes"
- Take a 3-minute break
- Practice for 15 minutes
- Take a 3-minute break
- Practice for 15 minutes
- Take a 15-minute break
Repeat this 3-set practice routine a total of five times. At that point, you will have practiced for around five and a half hours.That is the morning session. Then, in the afternoon, you will do this entire routine again after having some lunch and a chance to rest. In the years I lived in Madrid, between 1971 and 1975, the traditional schedule for the day was to start between 8 and 9 am and have your main meal of the day around 2:00 pm; everything would shut down for this meal and a siesta that followed. Then, anywhere between 5:00 and 7:00 pm, everything would open back up, and the evening meal would not be until 9:00 or even 10:00 pm. So, I would eat the midday meal, take a siesta and then practice from 5 to 10 pm, before eating dinner, the lighter meal of the day."
Segovia used this routine and expected me, as his student, to do the same. Recently I heard somebody claim that he witnessed Segovia excusing himself after dinner, saying that he had to practice. Such was not the case in my experiences with him; he practiced in the mornings and the late afternoons and early evenings."
Let me make one thing clear before we proceed any further. There is no one way to practice or learn a piece, section, phrase, or musical fragment. Depending on one's abilities and the musical context, ONE MUST USE A MULTITUDE OF LEARNING/PRACTICE APPROACHES to master the passage.
One of the best books I have ever read about practicing is The Pianist's Problems, by William S. Newman. I quote and paraphrase from pages 124-127 of his excellent book.
Bad practice habits produce problems that can be almost impossible to fix. The adage, "practice makes permanent," is very accurate. We form habits alarmingly quickly. Therefore, we want to be sure we develop good habits, not bad ones. Many players begin working on pieces by doing run-throughs and sloppy, mistake-ridden repetitions. Unfortunately, the mistakes become habits, and the player must spend hours undoing them.
The guitarist who makes mistakes in their practice learns them whether they mean to or not. Often, the guitarist will chalk up an error to carelessness or call it an accident. But the learning process does not distinguish between accidents and conscious efforts. Fingers have no brain. Whatever habit they learn is what they will execute.
For instance, let's say you practice a passage ten times. If only four out of the ten repetitions were correct, you just taught the fingers to play the passage wrong. Whatever they do most frequently becomes learned neuromuscular coordination. Mistakes become learned and stick just as correct procedures do. Even when corrected, old mistakes have a demonic way of turning up at the worst possible times.
To prevent mistakes or "accidents," catch yourself before you make a mistake, just as you would if you found yourself about to walk off a cliff. Granted, catching yourself or anticipating an error in advance can be difficult. The guitarist who has fallen into the habit of making mistakes is usually the type whom the momentum of the rhythm leads around by the nose. Once on the verge of making a mistake, the rhythmic drive pushes the player over the edge, and he realizes the error too late. They might go back to correct the mistake once or twice, but as we shall see, doing so does little to counteract the learned muscular movement.
The solution to not making mistakes is to adopt this motto: "HESITATE, RATHER THAN ERR." Mistakes stick, but in time, one can easily bridge over hesitations of thought and action.
Sit down with your husband, wife, significant other, son, daughter, best friend, or whomever. Explain that your goal is to play your piece (or a small section) from the beginning to the end without a mistake. Promise you will pay them $10 every time you make the slightest error and have to start over. I guarantee that as you get almost to the end several times and your "I Owe You" tab climbs rapidly, that your focus will become laser-like, and you will discover the meaning of "hesitate, rather than err" very quickly!
I'm going to repeat myself: Bad practice habits produce problems that can be almost impossible to fix. The adage, "practice makes permanent," is very accurate. We form habits alarmingly quickly. We want to be sure we develop good habits, not bad ones. Don't skip over this next section about neuroscience. If you understand how the brain learns new motor movements, you will see why it is so important not to practice mistakes.
The neuromuscular system includes all the muscles in the body and the nerves serving them. Every movement you make to play the guitar requires communication between the brain and the muscles. The nervous system links thoughts and actions by relaying messages from the brain to other parts of the body via networks of cells called neurons. Scientists estimate that the average male human brain contains about 86 billion neurons. Neurons, nerves, and muscles, working together as the neuromuscular system, make your fingers move when and where you want them to move when you're playing the guitar.
First, let's take a close-up view of two neurons. Example #8:
The neuron on the left is the presynaptic cell, the one sending a message. Its body is called the soma, and its center is the nucleus. The neuron has many spikey structures called dendrites extending out from the soma in all directions. The neuron on the right is the postsynaptic cell, the one receiving the message.
Let's follow the path of the message. Example #9:
If you follow the green arrow, you can see the presynaptic cell or neuron sending its message (in the form of an electrical charge) through its axon, the long, segmented arm extending from the right side of the cell. The message travels out through the little tentacles (terminal branches—there are thousands of them) to the axon terminal button, where it joins a dendrite belonging to the receiving postsynaptic cell or neuron on the right. The structure (highlighted in yellow) where the message transfers from the axon button to the dendrite of the receiving neuron is called the synapse. Each neuron is home to hundreds or even thousands of synapses. Current estimates are that we have 0.15 quadrillion (150,000,000,000,000) synapses.
You can see the synapse more clearly in the enlarged-for-detail purple box at the bottom of the diagram. Example #10:
The gap between two neurons is called the synaptic cleft. The gap is approximately 20-40 nanometers wide. If you consider that the thickness of a single sheet of paper is about 100,000 nanometers wide, you can start to understand just how small these functional contact points between neurons really are.
Let's focus on the synapse itself in the enlarged diagram. On the left, coming from the axon of the transmitting neuron, is the axon terminal button. Pouches called vesicles store neurotransmitters. There are hundreds of different neurotransmitters, but some of the more familiar ones are dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine. They are the red balls in the diagram. The presynaptic neuron initiates the release of the neurotransmitter from the vesicles. Then, the chemical diffuses into the synaptic cleft (the space between the neurons) to continue the process of transmitting the message.
The dendrites' job is to receive nerve impulses or signals (the message) from adjacent neurons. The dendrite of the receiving postsynaptic neuron has receptors that only bind with specific neurotransmitters (the chemicals floating around in the synaptic cleft). Therefore, receptors on the dendrites will only work when that specific neurotransmitter lands on them. Once a neurotransmitter matches up and binds with a receptor, the message has been received, and an electrical change occurs.
If it causes a positive charge, it excites the neuron, making it fire. The electrical charge carrying the message goes zipping down the axon of the second neuron (which now becomes the presynaptic neuron). Then the process repeats itself to pass the message onto the next target cell, the new postsynaptic neuron. When you play the guitar, cells, nerves, and muscles in your fingers or hands will receive the message to perform a specific action.
If the neurotransmitter causes a negative charge, it has an inhibitory effect, so the second neuron is less likely to fire. In that case, the impulse might not travel on to the next neuron.
One or two neurons can't do much by themselves. Activities such as playing the guitar depend on groups of neurons that work together. Neurons connect to other neurons, forming circuits that can process incoming messages and information and then carry out a response. When playing the guitar, numerous neuronal circuits work together to create complex neuronal pathways or networks from the brain to the spinal cord and muscles.
Let's say a guitarist is learning the famous Romance (Anonymous). There is a difficult chord change from measures 20-21. Example #11:
Below are simplified illustrations of three neural pathways our guitarist is using as he practices the chord change.
The first is Neuronal Pathway A. But it produces a buzz on the 1st-string C# at the 9th fret. So it is a bad pathway; it produces the wrong result. Example #12:
The second is Neuronal Pathway B. It produces a beautiful chord, clear with no buzzes. Example #13:
The third is Neuronal Pathway C. But it produces a buzz on the 2nd-string F# in the bar. So it is a bad pathway like A; it produces a bad result. Example #14:
Now, if the guitarist does not stop to figure out why pathways A and C produce mistakes, he will continue using those pathways in addition to the good pathway B. So, for example, if the player does not realize that the 2nd string is buzzing in the bar because he is not keeping the rear joint of the finger raised to keep the bar flat, he is doomed to repeat the error. So he will continue to use that pathway.
So, here are the three neuronal pathways the guitarist is using as he practices the chord change. Example #15:
Pathway A is no good. It produces a buzz on the 1st string high C# at the 9th fret. Pathway B is the best. It makes a clear chord with no buzzes and no delay. Pathway C is another bad pathway because it produces a buzz in the bar on the 2nd-string F# at the 7th fret.
At this point, the brain does not prefer any one pathway. However, if the player repeats the passage ten times, he might use bad Pathway A two times, good Pathway B three times, and bad Pathway C five times.
Your brain is very smart. It notices which pathways get used. When you practice and don't use a bad pathway, the brain sees it as a waste of resources and dismantles it. But that only happens if you don't use it (in other words, if you don't practice the mistake). But if you use a bad pathway (practice mistakes) several times, the brain thinks it is important and keeps that pathway open and will use it repeatedly. What happens? You might play the passage a few times correctly, but mostly you will make lots of mistakes and buzzes because your neuromuscular system has now used the bad pathways several times.
But it's even worse than that. If you play a passage and make a mistake, even if you know you made the mistake and why, you still reinforced the pathway. You did it, and your brain thinks that pathway must still be important and retains it. You can scream all you want, "No, no. I didn't mean it! I don't want that pathway. Please, brain, ignore that mistake." But you used it, the brain doesn't know any better, and it reinforces the pathway.
Now what do you do? Are you doomed? Let's go back to the neuroscience and look "under the hood."
You will recall that the axon, the long segmented arm extending from the side of a neuron, carries an electrical charge (the message) to the synapse of another neuron. Example #16:
Axons are responsible for transmitting information over relatively long distances (often a meter or more). The axons send signals from one region of the nervous system to another, such as from your brain to your fingers when you play the guitar.
I explained above that when we don't use a neural pathway, the brain eventually gets rid of it. However, the brain also notices when we use a pathway a lot. There is a saying that "neurons that fire together wire together." When we learn something new and use deep practice, we form new neural pathways. Neurons are now firing together in a new sequence and thus are wiring together as a collective. Repeated firing of this neural pathway signals to the brain that the pathway is important.
Frequently used axons that comprise the frequently used pathway get covered with myelin, a fatty material that wraps around the axon to form the myelin sheath. Example #17:
Here is a detailed view of a smaller-diameter unmyelinated axon at the top and a larger-diameter myelinated axon at the bottom. Example #18:
The myelin coating functions as insulation to minimize the dissipation of the electrical signal as it travels down the axon. Myelin also dramatically increases the speed of conduction of the electrical signal. Another way to think of it is that the neuromuscular pathway gets supercharged by the axons being wrapped in myelin. So the newly forged and repeatedly fired neural pathway is insulated like an electrical wire wrapped in a protective coating. Heavily myelinated neural pathways are optimized for speed and efficiency. They become the default behavior because the brain selects the most heavily myelinated pathway to perform an action. After all, it is clear to the brain that they are the most important. The behavior becomes automatic, a habit.
So here is the scary part. What if that supercharged pathway we made is the bad Pathway A or bad pathway C in our Romance chord change example above? Well, that is horrible news because you can't quickly dismantle a myelinated pathway. Myelin doesn't unwrap once it wraps, so you can't say, "Oh no, that's wrong. Unwrap that." You have to wait until the myelin breaks down (depending on how heavy the myelination is, it could take many weeks) and also have to be careful NEVER TO USE THAT PATHWAY AGAIN. The myelination process is why slow practice and "hesitate, rather than err" are so important. When you practice, you must guard against reinforcing the wrong pathway so that the brain does not wrap the axons with myelin. Do not reinforce the wrong hand and finger movements. When you practice, constantly ask yourself, "Which pathway am I myelinating right now? Which pathway am I strengthening? " If you continuously monitor that in your practice, your hands and fingers will not learn mistakes.
And remember, correcting a mistake after the fact accomplishes nothing. You already reinforced the wrong hand and finger movements. You myelinated the wrong path. Don't make the mistake in the first place. Play slowly and "hesitate, rather than err."
As Molly Gebrian explains, a practice technique teachers commonly suggest to students is to practice an element ten times correctly, or seven times correctly, or three times correctly. It is almost good advice, but not quite. Here is what happens:
At the end of the practice session, the guitarist has indeed played ten good repetitions. They have a pile of ten good neuromuscular pathways. That's just what the teacher asked for, right? Example #19:
But they also have a trash pile of many more bad neural pathways. Example #20:
The guitarist has accomplished (drum roll, please):
NOTHING!
Yes, the player played the passage ten times correctly, thus reinforcing that neural pathway. But they also played it wrong even more times. So the guitarist reinforced both pathways, the wrong one perhaps even more.
So, we need to make an adjustment. We need to use only the good pathway. We're still going to play the passage ten times perfectly. But the big adjustment is that the guitarist is going to play the passage perfectly ten times IN A ROW.
I have to admit that the "10 Levels of Misery" strategy is based on psychological warfare. It is unforgiving, inflexible, and utterly intolerant of any weaknesses in the guitarist's execution. But it works, and many musicians use it. The number of levels is the same as your goal—the number of times you want to play the passage perfectly. So, if your goal is to play the passage six times perfectly, the strategy becomes the "Six Levels of Misery." Here is how it works:
The strategy is merciless to players who are not concentrating. When the consequence is having to start over, the guitarist will focus much better and focus precisely on exactly what they must do to get it right. Or they will slow down dramatically. Or the phrase, "hesitate, rather than err," will finally sink in.
In this variation of the strategy, if the goal is to play a passage six times perfectly and you get it wrong, not only must you go back to zero, but you must add a repetition to the total goal. So, if your goal is six times and you mess up, now you must play the passage seven times in a row perfectly. Then, after starting over, if you mess up again, you must go back to zero, and the new goal is eight times in a row.
When you use the practice technique, you must be sure to count the good repetitions. You can't do a bunch of good repetitions and assume, "Oh yeah, I think that was ten." I will guarantee you, that was not ten! Keeping track visually of your repetitions can be helpful. You can use coins or any small objects that fit on your music stand. The coins represent your repetitions. If your goal is six perfect repetitions, line up six coins on the left side of your music stand. Each time you play a passage perfectly, move a coin to the right side. If you have five coins on the right side (you played the passage five times in a row perfectly) but mess up the sixth attempt, move all the coins back to the left side and start over. For extra misery, as a penalty, add an additional coin. Example #21:
By the way, thanks to Leah Kruszewski for the coin idea and Philip Johnston (The Practice Revolution) for his term, "The 10 Levels of Misery."
As with many "novel" ideas, this is an old one. Wolfgang Mozart's father would place ten dried peas in his son’s left coat pocket, and for each successful attempt at a difficult passage, Mozart would move a single pea to his right pocket. When he failed on any piece, even if it was the tenth repetition, all the peas had to be placed back in his left pocket — Wolfgang had to begin anew.
Counting the number of good repetitions also has another purpose. It puts psychological pressure on you to get it right. If you have been at it for 20 minutes and you did level 9 (repetition 9) successfully, the pressure will be intense to play the 10th repetition perfectly so that you can move on to something else. It's like a basketball player getting ready to do a free throw or a soccer player making a penalty kick to win the game with one second left on the clock. It trains the guitarist to stay calm and maintain total concentration. This psychological pressure is what you feel when you play for someone. "Oh my gosh, I have to play it perfectly on the first try, right now."
The "X-times-in-a-row" or "X Levels of Misery" practice strategy works great for relatively small elements or a few measures. However, it would be quite daunting to use for long passages or sections. I will discuss how to practice those later.