How a Simple Thing You Already Do Can Help You Perform Better
For the last two weeks, I’ve been lucky enough to be leading recorder masterclasses at Oberlin Conservatory’s storied Baroque Performance Institute.
If you’ve ever been a teacher or a student of music, you probably know how masterclasses work. Each student gets a time slot during which to play a piece of music in front of the instructor and their peers. After the student plays, instructor guides the student –and the class– toward ways to strengthen their musicianship.
My first week, the class was very full, so there were few moments to spare. But during the second week, I realized I would have one open slot left after all the students had played. What. to do? In past workshops, I’ve done a variety of things with extra time, But this year I had a new idea: I’d open up the slot to the whole class as a mini performance clinic.
As I explained to my students, the performance clinic was opportunity to practice performing in a low-stakes, supportive environment. Any student could sign up to perform for the class, and after their performance I would offer them no musical feedback whatsoever.
What I would offer them was constructive commentary on the non-musical elements performing, including but not limited to: how the student entered the room, how they set up and turned pages, what they did after they played, and the messages conveyed by their face and body throughout.
In essence, I was offering the students what I wish someone had offered me. It’s possible things have changed, but when I went to music school, the time devoted to cultivating and improving the non-musical aspects of our performances was close to nil.
And that’s a pity, because the truth is, the non-musical elements of performance are important. Performing is about communication, and visual communication is important. In fact, it’s far more integral to audience members’ experience of our performances than many of us, in classical music, would like to think that it is.
Yes, our job is to play music. But our job is also to help our audiences feel welcomed and at ease. Audience members key in on our visible emotions: If you look anxious, you’ll make them anxious. If you look upset, they’ll feel unsettled. Putting the audience at ease is a delicate art, but it’s an essential one.
Fortunately, as I explained to my students during the clinic, there’s a hack for that!
Have you ever invited someone into your home? I bet you have. I’d also bet that, as you did so, you arranged your face and body to project welcome and comfort to the person or people in front of you. Hosting is a real life situation in which many of us have gotten to practice, time and time again, projecting exactly the welcome and comfort we want our audience members to feel. And performing should, at its best, feel very similar.
During the performance clinic, one student played beautifully, but his face and body projected diffidence and apology. At the end of the session, I asked him to imagine what he would look like if he was welcoming someone into his home. It was like flipping a switch: His face lit up and his body relaxed. Why? Because, like many of us, he had already practiced the skill; he just needed to apply it to the performance modality.
Next time you perform, try pretending that you’re inviting someone in. Because in a very real way, you are!