Clock Watchers

Since the movie Hugo Cabret Calvin has been re-obsessed with clocks.  He takes them apart and puts them back together more or less in the same fashion.  As I write this I can hear about five different clocks ticking.  He winds them and shines them.  He buys them for $5 at various antique shops.

That is not the kind of clock watching I am thinking about.  I'm thinking about practice routines.  If, as an accompanist I need to get ready for a rehearsal and I have ten pieces, I practice them until I am satisfied with how they sound.  That might mean just being able to get through some and polishing some that are closer to performance.  My pride in not wanting to screw up in public helps guide my time management. Some pieces you love more than others and that is the way it goes.  One night it might take me two and a half hours the next night only half an hour.  I do what needs to be done.

Kids are not always that savvy. Learning how to practice needs to be taught. I often give kids a guideline of how many minutes to practice each task. An example of this for a middle school kid is:

Scale/warm up: 5 minutes
Theory Book: 5 minutes
New Piece: 20 minutes
Sight reading: 15 minutes
Review pieces: 15 minutes

But, if you have a couple performances of bigger pieces coming up but you still want to make progress on a new piece you can see that this falls apart pretty fast.  The default is that the scale, theory and sight reading get dropped in favor of getting ready for the performance.   That is pretty normal and not a big crisis. . . .when it is the exception and not the rule.

I had a student at MacPhail who signed up for every single extra recital and concert. This was great, she was getting so much performance experience. Consequently we spent every lesson polishing the piece for the recital that Friday night. We never had time for the core curriculum.

I was chatting with a violin friend (yes, I am friend with some of those people).  I asked how her daughter-who is hoping to major-in music practices.  She said she is not a clock watcher.  The girl needs to practice until her assignment is complete and her extra orchestra work is ready.  That might mean more or less than an hour and a half a day. That is like my "professional" practice ethic.  You have to get it done.

As a teacher, it reminds me to be thoughtful about my assignments and have a ball park idea of how long it should take to complete the tasks each week vs. how much time that particular student is supposed to give to the piano.  And, to make sure I follow through each lesson.  Did they do the tasks?  If not, why?  Was it too much or did they not put the time in?

What about the Calvins of the world?  He practices quite cheerfully for an hour a day, but we don't always get the full hour in.  When I make him come back later during his time, there is resistance.

So I made a little one day chart for him.  These are the tasks for today.  In my mind it added up to an hour.  He said--so if I get this all done in half an hour I'm done?  Well--so then I had to pencil in some times--1o minutes each on these three pieces.  He is no dummy.  So then I'm not done. . . what is the use of this chart?  I told him the timings were on his side--as his teacher I was more likely to accidentally spend a half hour on the first task and then he would be there for three hours.

What I want, is for him to be efficient doing the scales, theory, and sight reading--so--that we can spend more time on the project pieces.  I want less shilly-shallying. What we really need is a balanced approach. We balance setting small daily goals with time limits and guidelines.  

What about the little kids?  Some afternoons Mary pitters out pretty darn quick.  The philosophy clearly states that we should not keep the child at the piano longer than her natural attention span.  Sometimes that is ten minutes and we didn't get a darn thing done and then what?  So, I made her a little daily chart too. A one day thing with CUTE stickers. This is what we need to do today.  If you are tired now, that is fine, we will come back later to finish the chart.  Then it is my job to follow through and make sure we do come back.

I would love to be a fly on the wall of the household where the parent is forcing his kids to practice two or more hours a day.  I would also love to spy in the home of the family whose children are practicing long hours because they love the music and just have to play more--like an itch that they have to scratch.

Ultimately?  We need the kids to want to be good and see the value in the practice as working toward being a fine musician.  Because they love the music. I told Calvin--this isn't about ten minutes here or there--this is about the responsibility I have as your teacher--to help you meet your potential as a piano player.  I take that responsibility very seriously, with my own kids and with my students.  It scares the heck out of me.  So--like the Barbara Coloroso book I quoted a couple weeks ago--we can neither be a brick wall about practice, nor can we be a jellyfish. We need to be the spine--that supports but bends as needed.  The oak tree--which is the strongest thing but flexes incredibly in the wind.