Would you say you’re a perfectionist? It’s one of those terms we use as both a desired quality and a flaw. But is it something we should desire in music making?
Think about your favourite piece of recorded music, whether it’s a CD or streamed music. Is it perfect, or are you aware of flaws? I wouldn’t mind betting it’s as close to perfect as you could wish. Now consider how that recording was made. If it was created in the last fifty years, the chances the artist made a first take then re-recorded short sections which could be spliced in to cover any errors. Such practices are completely normal these days, allowing us to enjoy a ‘perfect’ performance every time we listen. But is this always a good thing?
The pianist Austrian Artur Schnabel (1882-1951) is best known today for his interpretations of Beethoven and Schubert. Indeed, the noted music critic Harold Schonberg described him as, “The man who invented Beethoven”. Maybe that’s a touch hyperbolic, but his interpretations of Beethoven were justly admired, and he was the first person to record a complete cycle of his piano sonatas. As a teenager, when I loved to tussle with the odd Beethoven piano sonata myself, I had an LP recording of Schnabel playing Sonata No.17 and I loved the spontaneity of his performance. Was it the perfect recording? Absolutely not but that mattered not a jot to me!
Schnabel recorded his Beethoven cycle between 1932 and 1935 – a time when performers were limited to four minutes of recording time (the length of a 78rpm disc) and no possibility of editing. Imagine the pressure he must have felt to play every note as perfectly as possible. Schnabel famously hated the recording process, but thank goodness he persevered. If you listen to his interpretations today they contain some flaws, but his vitality and musicality still shines through. While researching this blog post I listened again to Schnabel’s performance of Beethoven’s Sonata No.17 (a piece I learnt myself), comparing it with recordings by more recent pianists of note. Interestingly, I still enjoy the Schnabel recording, warts and all and I love the skittish nature of the opening movement. Have a listen for yourself if you’d like to.
So what does this have to do with our recorder playing I hear you ask? I would argue that the recorded music we listen to has a big influence on our attitude to our own playing, whether you’re a professional or an amateur. My audience here on the Score Lines blog encompasses a wide range of musicians - those who are just starting out, players who’ve been at it a while and can get around a piece of music with a good degree of fluency and musicality and some who perform with confidence and polish. Wherever you fall on that sliding scale, I’m willing to bet you’ve berated yourself for mistakes many times. Am I right? Of course I am!
It’s human nature to compare yourself to others, in music and all areas of life. When we listen to what we consider a ‘perfect’ performance we will often compare our own playing unfavourably – “Why don’t I sound like that?” or “What’s the point in me trying if I can’t even get all the notes right?” Is this a healthy reaction? In some ways, yes it is, if it drives us to practise more and improve our playing. But if it just makes you feel downbeat and disheartened I would argue not.
Let me tell you a story, which shows the influence a performance can have on others.
When I first taught at the Recorder Summer School the course would include a professional concert, towards the end of the week. One year we had to move it to the start of the week to accommodate the diary of our performers and it provoked an interesting reaction among our students. Many of them loved the change. They told us that when the concert was at the end of the week, they compared their own playing unfavourably with what they heard and it made them realise how little they’d improved during the course. In contrast, a concert at the start of the week inspired them to work harder to improve their playing. We now have the concert at the start of the course every year – all because of a chance diary clash years ago!
Should we be perfectionists?
There are some careers where anything less than perfection can be disastrous – a surgeon for instance – the difference between perfect and imperfect can be a matter of life and death. Are surgeons perfectionists? Almost certainly. Do all surgeons achieve perfection in their work every day of their lives? Almost certainly not!
Will anyone die if we play a wrong note or mistune that F sharp? Definitely not. But should we aim for perfection? Yes and no. As humans we’re incapable of utter perfection in anything – it’s a simple fact of life that we make mistakes. What’s more important is whether those mistakes spoil the end result and whether we learn from them.
I spent many years teaching the recorder in schools and was always amazed at the courage of the children I taught. They’d fearlessly jump up in front of a large audience and play the music they’d been diligently practising. Mistakes happened but by and large they just got on with it and didn’t fret about them. Children know from recent experience that they’ll make mistakes, but such errors will rarely cause them any long term pain or distress. Think how many times you fell off your bicycle in childhood, picking up grazes and bruises. That wasn’t going to stop you grabbing your bike and jumping back on it. You never fretted about what might happen if you met a pothole or your chain fell off. Childhood is the time when we try new things without fretting about what we cannot control.
As we grow up we begin to worry more. By the time we reach adulthood we’re doing jobs where people count on us to get things right and it seems a much bigger deal if we make a mistake. This often carries over into our lives away from work, affecting the things we do for fun.
Through my work with adult recorder players I encounter lots of people who are at the top of their game in whatever they do for a living. They know their job well and are in control, knowing they have the skills to cope with any glitches that may occur. They also clearly understand the risks of being less than perfect, whether that’s driving a bus, teaching a class of children or removing someone’s appendix.
Now put the same person into a rehearsal or concert and you’d think they’d have the same coping strategies, wouldn’t you? Maybe not. Remember that many amateur musicians come to music in later life, or perhaps return to it several decades after first learning in school. Experience of life makes their adult brains much more aware of the wrong notes and somehow those mistakes seem a bigger deal when you’re 42 than when you’re 9!
Is a musical mistake really a life and death threat? Far from it, but by adulthood we’re used to succeeding and the fear of looking foolish is larger in our minds. This fear puts many off even trying to perform and can deter some from even going along to play in an ensemble until they feel they’re ‘good enough’ and I think this is a real shame.
Yes, you should strive for perfection in your musical activities, but always remember that you’ll never achieve perfection. Try as hard as you can at whatever you do, but don’t let mistakes get blown out of proportion in your mind.
I’ve often heard a quote along the lines of ‘Amateur practise until they get something right, while professionals practise until they can’t get it wrong.’ I’ve tried and failed to find the original source for this quote, but it still contains a lot of truth. As a working professional, I certainly feel the pressure to get things perfect, but I know from experience that an audience won’t enjoy a concert less if it contains the occasional flaw.
I recently watched a televised concert from the London Palladium by the singer Adele in which she performed songs from her new album. She got a short way into one of them and stopped, apologising to the audience, saying how nervous she was. Did they hate her for this? Far from it, they loved this honesty and gave her a huge round of applause! Seeing Adele’s nerves get the better of her just made them love her even more and that in turn gave her the confidence to turn in a fabulous performance when she restarted.
Combatting the fear of imperfection
Put your credit card away!
Photographers suffer from all the same worries as musicians – we compare our photos to those of others and fret that we’re not good enough. A common mistake is to think a better camera or a new lens will turn you a better photographer and many people become afflicted with GAS (gear acquisition syndrome) in the search for the camera which will make their photos look like those of Ansel Adams. Does it work? Very rarely – and I speak from experience!
I sometimes see the same affliction in recorder players. They think if they just upgrade their pearwood treble to a rosewood one or buy an instrument made by a big name recorder maker that’ll make all the difference and they’ll magically sound like Frans Bruggen. I’ve heard beautiful performances played on cheap plastic instruments and awful ones coming from handmade recorders costing thousands of pounds. The truth is if you want to get closer to perfection with your playing you’re better off spending that cash on some lessons from a good recorder teacher, or simply practise in a more considered way to upgrade your mental and physical skills.
A recorder is a tool - buying a more expensive one won’t necessarily make you a more perfect player!
Make a mess and have fun!
When I was at music college my teacher used to criticise me for being ‘too neat and tidy’. It struck me as an odd accusation at the time, but looking back I can see my obsession for perfection almost certainly made my performances less exciting and rather clinical. Now I worry less about the possibility of small imperfections, placing a greater focus on taking risks to create a more exciting performance.
When you’re practising don’t be afraid to make a mess of things. First steps on any new piece of music will often be untidy and littered with mistakes but it’s all part of the learning experience. We learn from mistakes – after all, it’s the experience of falling over in the snow that teaches us to tread carefully when it’s icy if we wish to avoid injury. Wrong notes won’t inflict physical pain on anyone, but do try to remember where your mistakes were you can correct them and do it better next time.
Use your practice time to correct mistakes and seek perfection, but don’t forget to take risks. Throw in an ambitious piece of ornamentation and don’t fret that it might go horribly wrong. Some of what you try will succeed and you’ll learn how far you can take things in performance. Try playing something really fast to find your limits. If you stumble you’ll learn something and your pet cat, asleep nearby, won’t care how many times you throw caution to the wind to try something new! Some of your experiments will fail but others will be successes you can celebrate.
While running Zoom workshops on recorder technique during the Covid-19 lockdowns I realised there were some benefits to this way of working. One of my workshop’s exercises requires my students to blow a note really loudly and quietly, making a frankly awful noise, to ascertain the acceptable limits of their tone. In face-to-face workshops this tends to be somewhat tentative as people are worried about making a fool of themselves. On Zoom, with microphones muted, players were able to give it everything they had without worrying what anyone else thought and many told me they found that freeing.
Don’t wait until you’re ‘good enough’
If you’re fairly new to music making and are still at the stage of playing on your own at home, be brave and find a group to play with. Don’t wait until you’re ‘good enough’ - you’re just trying to insulate yourself from failure. If you find a group who are at a similar level to yourself you’ll be able to commiserate and celebrate your failures and successes together. If you find you’re weaker than your fellow musicians, they’ll help you lift your game, carrying you along on their wave of confidence. Recorder players invariably are welcoming and keen to see you succeed – they’ve all been there themselves, stumbling along as they took their own first steps. It doesn’t matter if you don’t play every note at first – you’ll learn coping strategies and in a few weeks you’ll wonder why you were ever scared about going along.
My partner, Kevin, started a brass band for young players on a Saturday morning. As soon as a child could play five notes on their instrument they were welcome in the band – there was no need to wait until they’d passed any music exams. At times the sound was dreadful, but the kids quickly improved, developing their musical and technical skills. Most importantly they had enormous fun! They didn’t care that their first rendition of Jingle Bells in the Christmas concert sounded a bit dodgy – the applause from the audience spurred them on to improve, even if they weren’t always perfect. Years later I watched some of those earliest band members perform to a packed audience at Birmingham Symphony Hall and their sense of enthusiasm and achievement was infectious. They didn’t wait until they were ‘good enough’ - they just jumped in and had a go!
Be a true amateur
The definition of an amateur is someone who does something for the love of it. Can you say, hand on heart, that you play every note with real love? Or do you get hung up on getting the notes right, sometimes losing sight of the real joy of music making – playing with passion and enjoyment?
“To play a wrong note is insignificant; to play without passion is inexcusable.”
Ludwig van Beethoven
Yes, do try to get the notes right, but don’t forget to consider the story you are trying to convey through your music. What mood are you trying to conjure up? Are you playing that slow melody with true feeling, or are you just content with getting the notes on all the right beats? Share your love of the music in your playing and anyone who hears you will feel it, regardless of the occasional wrong note.
Be a realist
I think musicians often feel they should be stretching themselves all the time. The classic example of this is the student who passes a grade exam and moves straight on to the next one. Most adult players have no desire to take exams, but I sometimes still see the same mentality, as they throw themselves into ever more challenging repertoire without taking time to consolidate.
We all love a challenge, but perpetually being at the bleeding edge of your technique can be demoralising. You’re always at your limit, endlessly trying to get around the notes with no spare mental capacity to think about the bigger picture. Sometimes, give yourself a break – pick an easier piece where you can comfortably manage the technical challenges. This frees you up to explore the different ways you could phrase the music, experiment with different tempi or try some more creative ornamentation.
How to deal with imperfections in performance
It’s very easy in performance to become totally focused on our imperfections – we assume the audience will hear every glitch and think less of us. In reality, many of them will slip by unnoticed. Even when an audience does hear a mistake you can be sure it won’t wreck the concert for them.
I’ve made what felt like apocalyptic errors in concerts over the years, but perhaps the most extreme was an unaccompanied piece by Anton Heberle. Midway through I had a memory lapse in a passage of arpeggio patterns. Unsure of where to restart, I explored one arpeggio, trying to give it an intentionally improvisatory air, hopeful it might lead me back to safety. No, that wasn’t the one. I tried another – still not right. Then inspiration struck – it was B flat major I was searching for! I was finally back on the right path and the music flowed easily from there to the double barline. At the end the audience applauded enthusiastically, I took my bow and retreated to the wings with a huge sigh of relief. Chatting to my Dad afterwards, we discussed the Heberle, a piece he’d heard me play many times before, and he admitted he hadn’t even noticed my faux pas. Because I’d made my explorations in a confident and musical way, he assumed it was an intentional part of the music and was utterly convinced it had been right.
The moral of the story? Always play with conviction and confidence and the audience will believe in you. Take risks and share your passion with the audience and they’ll love you even if you are imperfect.
“Practise like it means everything in world to you. Perform like you don’t give a damn.”
Jascha Heifetz, violinist.
Most importantly, if you do make a mistake, don’t let it put you off what comes next. It’s far too easy to play a wrong note and then spend several bars mentally kicking yourself for making a stupid error. During those ensuing bars you’re even more likely to make further mistakes, purely because you’re busy berating yourself rather than concentrating on the music.
Before a concert with the youth orchestra I played with as a teenager, our conductor gave us a pep talk, telling us, ”I absolve you of your mistakes.” It seemed an odd thing to say at the time but, looking back, I realise he was telling us to immediately put our errors behind us. You are human – you will be imperfect – that much is a given. Remember though, you cannot turn back time to un-make mistakes so to let them distract you, resulting in more errors is unforgiveable. After the performance is over, look back and analyse what you did wrong. Use the experience to improve your playing in the future, but don’t give it a second thought in the heat of the moment.
Performing to a packed audience in Chichester Cathedral with the Parnassian Ensemble
Embrace your humanity
There is an aesthetic embraced by the Japanese called Wabi-sabi – the concept of beauty through imperfection. These imperfections can be flaws introduced in production of an item, or simply marks accrued through years of wear and tear. As a photographer I appreciate the appeal of this aesthetic through the way I react to the buildings I photograph. I often visit old churches and find so much joy in photographing details around these ancient buildings which have over time developed a patina. These imperfections tell us others have been there before us and we can imagine the stories they could tell us.
An enchanting pew end from a Suffolk church. The marks left by centuries of being caressed by churchgoers just make me love this carving even more.
In music we all bring our own wabi-sabi aesthetic to the music we play. We are all unique individuals, bringing our own life experiences and personal strengths and weakness to our musical interpretation. At no point in our lives can we ever consider ourselves to be complete and perfect – the finished article. Over time we bring new life experiences to bear on the way we play music, and our interpretations should be part of an everchanging process. I look back to performances I gave in my younger days and know I would do them very differently now. These changes in interpretation and technique are part of my own musical wabi-sabi. No performance will every be utterly perfect, but I am perpetually on a road towards a mythical perfection I hope I might one day achieve.
I enjoyed a fascinating conversation recently with someone who’d been to the finals of the National Brass Band Championships which ties in with the wabi-sabi concept. In brass band contests all the bands play the same test piece to an adjudicator who is hidden behind a screen, so they can judge without bias. There is a big emphasis at these competitions on playing the music perfectly – avoiding errors as much as is humanly possible.
In this particular contest, there were two performances which stood out to the person I was chatting with. One followed the composer’s score to the letter, getting as close to technical perfection as possible – it turned out to be winning performance. But the second was much more dynamic, taking risks, stretching the musical possibilities and, yes, including occasional wrong notes. What really interested me though was when the person I was chatting to said if they were paying money to attend a concert, it was this second performance they’d rather see. The imperfections didn’t matter one jot – the passion and musicality were worth infinitely more.
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So is perfectionism a good trait for musicians? I would argue one should always strive to play perfectly, practising thoughtfully and efficiently to eliminate our mistakes. However, when it comes to playing with others and in concert, you should be less focused on perfection and aim instead to communicate your love of the music to others. If that means you’re a little less than perfect, you’re just showing your humanity and it doesn’t make you any less of a musician.
What’s your attitude to perfection? Do you beaver away until you have every note polished until it shines, or are you a more spontaneous risk taker? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject, whether you just play for fun with friends or you’re a seasoned performer. Please do leave a comment below.
