You aren’t my hardest working pupil (and that’s ok with me!)
You aren’t my hardest working pupil *and that’s ok with me!
Image of a runner pictured from behind running on a beach at golden hour
I used to be hung up on hard work, and what that meant. I felt guilty if my week had not included a certain amount of study and practice, if I had left my desk too long, spent a day away from the piano…
I’ve struggled through singing lessons feeling shame because I felt I had not earned the right to be there from hours of work.
And then I had a lightbulb moment.
The lessons I had ‘not done enough work for’ were uplifting. I felt purpose and achievement from my time with my teacher. I worked technically on my voice that day with expert ears and guidance, and found I made headway and learned. Then when singing reperotire I found spots that needed more work were pinpointed, and sometimes things I expected not to work went unexepectedly well.
The probelm was, I was setting the barre at a level I wasn’t able to reach regularly, which made me feel like I was not acheiving enough. The probelm wasn’t actually how much I was doing, but my perception of it. I was actually doing well, especially if you take into account practice and study time over a space of time like a month, 6 months, or even a year!
If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know I’ve been going on runs semi-regularly. I am not a naturally fast runner, never have been. Instead I’ve come to terms with being slow, some weeks running more times than others, taking walking breaks, and stopping to enjoy the wildlife. This not only makes me happy but also ensures I enjoy it enough to continue!
I have slowly improved, and when I took a break when moving house I noticed my base level was higher at my return. This made me extremely happy!
In the same way, when I teach pupils singing or piano, I do not expect you to practise a certain amount of time or number of times every week. I hope you will make some space in your life to think and work on what we are doing in your lessons because I know progress is enjoyable and will give you pride in your achievement. But I don’t think any of us have the sort of life where every week is the same.
Life is much more complicated, and sometimes our work, health, and family can sometimes require more of our time and attention.
Sometimes you’ve practised a lot.
Sometimes you haven’t.
When you come to your lesson, we work on you and your voice on that day regardless of how much time you have had to work on your technique and performance. Because life is sometimes like this.
There will always be something we can work on and enjoy singing together. You don’t have to be my hardest working pupil this week.
Judgement
Image description: a black and white picture shows a couple pointing and viewing art in an art gallery. Below is the title Judgement.
I’ve realised my love for travel and food is linked to my nosiness to know and understand people, and why I really enjoy my job working with lots of different musicians and pupils.
When we travel, I enjoy figuring out these unique puzzle pieces. Every part of the journey gives away more clues, from the internet research before, to the airport and security queues.
What could be better than seeing how another ‘tribe’ of people describe themselves through the art they make, and the art they value? And all the arts count in this endeavour, tv, music, books, adverts, all helping to build a picture.
And so we found ourselves in an art gallery, happy to be welcomed into its smooth polished floors and air-conditioned rooms. A serene refuge from the hot, bustling, dusty streets for at least a quiet few hours with occasional benches to admire the art.
I used to visit galleries and treat every picture with equal time, trying to give it time and allowing it to speak to me, but now I’m much less patient and probably less pretentious! I’m happy to waft around and only stop at the pieces that really grab my attention for some reason. I let my gut reaction guide me, turning off any preconceived ideas of good and bad, not reading names, and choosing my personal favourites from the visit because they are unusual, because they capture a feeling or emotion like a forgotten summers day, describing an anxious wait, translating sunlight and shadows into oil paint.
At this particular gallery it seemed like there was one of almost every ‘famous’ historical painter you have ever studied at school. Some were recognisable and almost familiar in style, and some were not. As though ‘from the school of’ or ‘influenced by’ might lead you to stop longer and consider its’ merit. The paintings I might have tried to give more time to because of who they were by rather than how they made me feel. But the truth was many of the big names were not my favourites, and many were instantly forgettable. Their famous name might make you stop, but the painting was not particularly moving or descriptive.
It made me wonder if these great well-known names had any idea these pictures would one day be displayed in an art gallery as a prized possession? Were they sketches? Or maybe they hated them and didn’t get around to painting over it. Would they be horrified to know some of these made it out of the back of the cupboard? I read an account recently about an artist who regularly reconsidered a painting she was working on and painted over it. She chose to scrap hours of work because it wasn’t going the way she wanted, to the consternation of others who had watched the artwork being created.
We don’t just make good art. We make art, and sometimes it is judged to be good, and sometimes it is not.
“Don’t think about making art, just get it done.
Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it.
While they are deciding, make even more art.”
In music -and singing- we are too often perfectionists who are judged harshly for less than perfect performances by not only ourselves but others. There is an old saying that ‘you are only as good as your last performance’ which is frankly ridiculous!
Our bodies and minds fluctuate with hormones, life drama, energy levels, illness and so on. So why are we not as good at accepting that these things happen and affect our art sometimes? Why are we aiming for perfection if it is unachievable?
If we restrict ourselves to only making ‘perfect art’ when our bodies and minds are truly ready or cooperative, how often would we perform? Would this be helpful to our artistry or enjoyment? Is good art achieved in a perfect environment?
I remind myself to be kind, and teach my pupils to be kind. We sing best free of the idea of ‘perfect’. The act of making art should not be done under the restrictions of deciding whether or not it is any good, but with the freedom and vibrancy released from creation for the point of communicating emotion and stories. These are the pieces of art that I find most move me, and the artists who I admire on the concert and opera platform.
A perfect performance technically and environmentally is not necessarily the one that moves me or that I wish to experience again. Lets all aim to be kinder.