The educational system in which I was brought up encouraged “cramming”; that is, waiting until the last possible moment before an exam and then trying to cram all the information into your brain in one sleepless night, usually fueled by coffee and sugar. At exam time you’d then vomit all this information back out, probably never to remember it — or use it, for that matter — ever again. Clearly, this doesn’t work in the same way with a musical instrument, or at least not very well. A professional could probably get away with it once in a while, but having to deal with students that try to practice this way is extremely frustrating.
The times I’ve had to cram like this for a concert have been pretty uneven. It worked for me with Gershwin, since it ended up being more improvisatory and spontaneous because the interpretation wasn’t too grounded and overly drilled. On the other hand, it was a complete disaster when I had to do it with Brahms. In both cases, the notes left my head almost as fast as they went in, I wouldn’t be able to play a single note of either of those pieces right now, even with a gun to my head.
Getting a student to practice consistently is a familiar problem for most teachers, maybe because this cramming habit is ingrained in many children. When I get absolute beginners in my class I recommend that they practice in short sessions of 10 minutes, two sessions per day. Every day. There’s the key: every single day. Even a single daily 10-minute practice session each day is better than skipping a couple of days and then undergoing a two-hour practice marathon before the lesson. Getting this practicing habit across is a recurring problem when teaching children, and a big headache for most teachers.
A typical method, making the parents supervise the kid and sign a practice sheet of some sort, doesn’t always work. And it doesn’t work because of one simple fact that anyone teaching children knows: parents lie. They’ll sign knowing full well that the child didn’t practice, or they’ll do it without actually checking to see if he did; they’ll bargain with the kid and then, for some reason that I’ll never understand, lie straight to your face: “he practiced so much this week!”
Practicing in short 10-minute sessions was something that I thought was exclusive to children and beginners, to hold their interest. Gradually I would get them to add a bit more practice time to each session. However, recently I’ve found that practicing in short little bursts like these gives really good results for a professional as well. It makes it easier to conserve that one thing that is so important: enthusiasm.
Lately I haven’t had a choice, it’s either practice in short 10-minute bursts or don’t practice at all. With recitals and concerts looming in the horizon, the second one is not really an option at all, unless I want to quit playing completely — by the way, is there a term for giving up the piano? (In Spanish I’ve heard it referred to as “throwing out the harp.”) In any case, I’ve been forced to practice in a dozen little bursts each day. Either between students, or in the little while in which my 8-month baby is absorbed with some particular toy and doesn’t demand my presence.
After a few months of learning some repertoire by almost exclusively practicing in this way, I’m pleasantly surprised with the results so far. An obvious advantage to practicing in this way is in the increased focus on solving problem spots and going straight to the point each time I sit down to play. It also probably has to do with the way the piece grows in the mind between practice sessions. However, the main reason this has worked for me is probably more subtle; I think it has to do more with the way I end practicing each time. By practicing in short little bursts that are suddenly interrupted with a pressing matter (either a student or a baby needing his dad,) I’m forced to stop whatever I’m doing. If the practicing is going well, then I am enthusiastic and can’t wait to get started again; if the music isn’t cooperating with me that particular day then I’m forced to stop before I reach throw-the-piano-through-the-window levels of frustration.
I’m not sure it would work with everyone, and I’m still unsure about recommending it to my older students, but so far it’s been working for me. At least much better than the 4-5 hour non-stop practice marathons I’d stupidly do back in music school.
2 Comments
You have described my piano-practice life, as it is now raising a small child. And so so so reassuring to know that I am not alone. Thank you.
Short practice sessions when I can find them during the day, and early mornings (before little feet are sounding upstairs and the morning routine begins) or late nights (after husband-wife time) has proven to bring fantastic results. I am devouring a Joplin rag faster than I ever thought possible!
Nice post! Now that I am a music major, I notice that some people enter their music studies much later, some in their 30s, others in their 40s and and 50s … quite a few have a family – partner or kids, and they also happen to have a full or part time job … they always seem to hold it together, get credits and distinctions in their essays and performances and I’m very sure it’s for that very reason – they don’t have the luxury of time, atleast not in the sense that I do (no full time job, only 4 -5 hours of full time work, no need to even cook or clean! – My weekends are 3 days and most days I finish around lunchtime). For the older mature aged students, not having 6 hours of availabily or free time leads them to embrace the ten minute, half hour or hourly time they might have and thereby score beautiful marks. Somehow, for me, as a full time student living at home with many other full time students who cram, it’s hard to break a habit, and sometimes I think procrastination and cramming is not done out of laziness, rather it is done out of fear and stress – attempting it is scary so let’s just leave it for now. It’s getting better with age I’ll have to admit… lol.
As for parents lying … I don’t know what is worse. Parents who refuse to sit down with their children to practice, or parents who lie. I have a theory with the ones who lie, the ones who lie might 1. feel bad because they didn’t do a good job with supervising their child’s practice – they might feel like they as parents, are in some trouble 2. they might be defensive over their children, there are parents who can’t accept that their kids aren’t perfect, maybe this is one example. I’ve only started teaching adults but I am going to take on a few kids soon. My aunt sents her daughter (my cousin) to piano lessons, and she complains that her daughter never practices… I ask her if she ever sits down with her to practice, her reply: “No I don’t have any time for that.” … “not even ten minutes?” … “no.” — I do wonder what the point to piano lessons is to these parents…