Does Every Good Boy Do Fine, actually?

 

Most of you will probably recognize the phrase in the title of this post. Someone came up with it decades, if not centuries, ago, as a way to learn the notes on lines in the treble clef. "All cows eat grass" was the phrase for the spaces in the bass clef. Theortically, if you know these, every other note would just be one note away from one of these. But in reality, if you see the note at the space above all the lines in the treble clef, you might have to say "every good boy does fine" to find the F on the top line, so you can find the G on the space above it. That would be too slow for real-time playing. Instead, you'd want to just know that top line is F, for example, rather than having to repeat the whole phrase to yourself. (See below for how to do this.)

But the main problem with this method is that it focuses on the absolute note names instead of the intervals, or distances, between them. Navigating by interval is the ONLY way to become proficient at sight reading. Even if you think you learned the E-G-B-D-F method (which you may very well have), your mind eventually figured out the distances between notes and switched to reading by interval.

Another problem with the E-G-B-D-F method is that it is hopeless for reading in ledger lines, the notes that are written above or below the clefs. Almost all of my students who came from other teachers still have trouble reading in the ledger lines, and have to count the notes up (or down) to the one they see, and then they often resort to writing the note name in the score so they won't have to keep counting up to it. If you are playing -- or want to play -- advanced pieces, there will be many notes on ledger lines, so it's imperative that this be just as easy as reading the notes which fall on the staff.

However great reading by interval is, sometimes you need to find a note by its absolute name, such as the first note of the piece. For this purpose I have a set of "landmarks," which are all the Cs, Fs and Gs on each clef. (Middle C is the same for both clefs.) In the treble clef there is middle C, written on a ledger line, then G on the second line (indicated by the "curl" of the treble clef symbol"), then C on the third space up, and F on the top line. In the bass clef you have middle C, then F on the second line going downwards (indicated by the two dots around that line in the clef symbol), the C on the third space down, and lastly G on the lowest line. Looking at it as a mirror image, the Cs correspond, the Fs and Gs flip. This way you are never more than two notes away from any other note, and the same system works for both clefs. With the every-good-boy-does-fine and all-cows-eat-grass, you have different systems for each clef, and they do not match up well (one is on lines, the other on spaces). 

Of course, after a period of playing, these landmarks will become internalized, and in fact, so will all the notes on the staff. You won't have to think about their names at all. And that is the point. Don't think about note names. See my post titled Sight Reading from March 2015 for a fuller discussion of these concepts.

This is Madness

 

I recently saw an article in the magazine Piano Street regarding a new device, basically a robotic hand, which, when attached to the hand, is touted as being able to increase the speed at which the pianist plays. 

Here is the link:

When Practice Stagnates: Robotic Training for Pianists

As you see, the device fits on the hand and the makes the fingers move rapidly. The hand isn't really doing the work, it is just passive. The article shows a pianist before and after using the device, and demonstrates that there is an increase in speed even after the device is removed.

Wow, there is so much that is wrong about this.

First, the device only deals with the fingers. As you've read in this blog, I don't subscribe to the common misconception that piano technique is all about the fingers. It is more about the integration of the arm, hand and fingers (and even the torso). The example shown in the video is a pianist playing "double thirds" (a slow trill on two notes) which essentially stays in one place. This, however, is not real life. All challenging music for the piano will require you to movie up and down the keyboard. Chopin's "double thirds" etude (Opus 25 #6) starts this way but then proceeds to move up and down the piano in scales and other patterns in thirds, which obviously must include the arm. ("The hand isn't going anywhere the arm doesn't take it.")

Second, the article admits that, even though the hand is passive, there is still the possibility of injury with the device. You don't say! Over-use of the small muscles is the main cause of injury and strain for pianists. The author of the original article states: "I'm a pianist, but I injured my hand because of overpracticing. I was suffering from this dilemma, between overpracticing and the prevention of injury, so then I thought, I have to think about some way to improve my skills without practicing." Instead of questioning his whole approach to technique he just looked for a workaround, a way for something else to do the work for him. Learning to use the larger muscles of the arm and less reliance on the fingers would have prevented his injury. The late pianist Leon Fleisher developed dystonia in his hands and had to stop playing altogether. After many attempts to cure it (which didn't work), he discovered he could play if he stuck to pieces that weren't so "finger-y," that is, pieces with big chords, for example, which used more of the arm. As it turns out, dystonia is a "scrambling" in the brain from over-use of the fingers, and not a physical problem with the hand at all. To me, that indicates you could have the same problem even if the robot is causing the movements. It's still affecting the brain.

Third, the playing in the article's video sounds.... well... robotic. Of course it does! The device would not allow for any nuance in the playing. If you've been reading this blog, you know I really reject the idea of practicing without musicality and then hoping you can flick a switch and play musically when you want to. Listen to a great pianist play the Chopin Double Thirds Etude and you'll hear there is a lot of nuance, and can, and should, be played very musically. To play musically, you have to practice playing musically.

One valuable thing that this experiment with the robotic device demonstrates is the power of the brain in everything related to piano technique. The article states: Surprisingly, the untrained hand also showed improved performancee, demonstrating an inter-manual transfer effect. So, in other words, it was something that happened in the brain which caused the other hand -- the one not trained with the device -- to improve as well. Wouldn't it be better to explore how to change our brains everytime we practice, rather than use a cumbersome device with potential for harm? I emphasize this in my teaching. See my posts "It's All (Neuro)logical" of December 2020, and "Practicing to Build Your Brain Power" of August 2020.

I doubt whether this device will come into common usage due to cost and other factors. But if it does, I shudder at the thought of every beginning or intermediate, or even advanced student starting to practice using this device. It is frustrating when you feel you reach a "plateau" in your piano practice and you aren't improving. Some of this is the natural learning curve. But most of it is probably how you're practicing. Some of the things pianists do to try to break through a plateau are useless and some are just plain harmful. In an upcoming post I will discuss what to do about plateaus.

What Are You Thinking?

 

What exactly is the role of "thinking" when playing the piano?

Thinking goes hand in hand with talking to yourself. See my post titled "Talking to Yourself" (December 2023). Most of us have thoughts going on in our heads every waking minute of the day. You'd probably agree that, while some of it may be necessary, much of it is just inner babbling.

Discliplines such as meditation, Tai Chi, yoga, Qigong and others aim to quiet the mind. In meditation, when you become aware of the thoughts going through your mind, the goal is to just observe them and let them go. 

You may notice when you have a lot of thoughts, you are less observant of what is going on around you. If you are having a conversation with someone, the ideal would be to focus on them and what they are communicating, and not be rehearsing your response in your head while they are talking. Sound familiar? We all do it.

Some would say to think about what you are doing as you learn a new piece of music, to "process" it, even analyze it. But is that really desirable? If you are thinking then you are talking to yourself, and if you are talking to yourself, you aren't listening, just like in the case of a conversation with someone.

I recently read an article where the author wrote: Control your thoughts to express emotion in your music. He goes on to say the the process of learning music is a mental one, and when someone is not physically capable of executing some difficult music, the mind can overcome it. This is, he explains, how young prodigies manage to play all the big challenging pieces that adults do. Your common sense tells you this can't possibly be correct. A person's mind can't possibly overcome the difficulty of running the 50-yard dash in under ten seconds, or any other athletic feat. It's all physical! Yes, the mind plays a role in having confidence, overcoming self-doubt and visualizing success while in training. But while they are running the race itself? I'd bet their mind is not full of chatter and thoughts. During the race, their mind is only observing.

How would "controlling your thoughts" translate to playing with more emotion? He doesn't explain. You'll find the more you try to control your thoughts, the more they will fight back, so to speak. The only thing you can do is observe them and let them go. In playing the piano, this means your goal is to focus solely on listening to the music as you play. If you are truly listening, there is no room for thoughts to enter. But if you observe you are having thoughts, just return your mind to listening. 

Playing with or without emotion is determined far more by what you do physically (the word emotion has "motion" in it) than it is by how or what you think. If you feel your playing doesn't have enough emotion or expression, it is probably due to several factors: 1) your technique is faulty and doesn't enable you to play with beautiful phrasing and legato, for two examples; 2) you've spent too much time practicing without emotional involvement (the idea that you "learn the notes first" and add expression later); 3) you've spent too much time doing exercises which train you to play mechanically; and, 4) not really listening.