Taping my own practicing has definitely shifted my level of consciousness. It’s been an eye-opening project.<\/p>\n
Solitary practicing can get you into that zone where you forget about the rest of the world. That has its own benefit and beauty, and enjoyment. But I have done decades of that. And I know the danger of narcissism and myopia that can come with hours alone with the music in front of a piano.<\/p>\n
The nightly practice in front of a camera, talking through what it is I am working on, has been slowly waking me up from these dreamy musical hours spent alone.<\/p>\n
It’s been reminding me of a story I heard at a memorial service one time. It was for someone I did not know. I was taking a break from practicing, and walked into a hall in a middle of the service. It was for an old oboe teacher. His wife was speaking about how he hated being alone, even during his practice sessions. He would ask anyone willing to listen to him whenever possible. When no one was around, he insisted that his wife listen. When she refused, one day, he locked her in a closet, and practiced in front of it!<\/p>\n
The story made everyone laugh. She was laughing, too.<\/p>\n
Now, every time I do these video practice sessions, I think of the oboe teacher I never met. And the history behind these long hours of practicing alone.<\/p>\n
Isn’t music meant to be shared? Should it not stop being about perfection and commercialism, focused only on quantifiable things like speed, and accuracy? Doesn’t part of the beauty of music lie in its process of creation, not just the final product? Isn’t the life of a musician, her pursuit of beauty and ideal just as valuable as her presentation?<\/p>\n
I am starting to find more and more value in this challenge. I may not be perfect – I may not look presentable in my casual cloth and no makeup, but I am being completely myself, and honest. And I hope people will appreciate that.<\/p>\n
Here is day 11: Brahms’ Rhapsody Op. 79-1.<\/p>\n