Piano makes me a little nuts. Chapter 1.

Performance class and I have a love-hate relationship. In theory, it's awesome. Who doesn't want the opportunity to say "Pay attention to me and what I can do!" (or rather, you must sit here and listen to me because you can't leave until 4:20 pm...bwahaha) On the other hand, I hate that always looming possibility of near catastrophe, similar to a bomb going off, leading to the ultimate destruction of music as we know it!!! Okay. That last bit might have been an exaggeration, but you get the point! I really don't mind playing in front of people. It's just that I am a perfectionist and can't stand to present anything but the best performance ever.  Period.

Rewind to about a week ago. Up until this point, I am as cool as a cucumber. I'm confident, and I feel very solid in the piece. I've played it in studio class nearly flawlessly. I'm totally ready. And then, the inevitable happens. As much as I'd like to pretend it doesn't, the following always happens: I stage a bit of a nutty. 

Those of you who haven't had the honor of being my teacher, close friend, or parent around the time of a solo piano performance, count yourselves incredibly lucky. I get very worked up at every practice and lesson, absolutely terrified that I'll keep making the little mistakes. Unfortunately for those around me, this comes out as either rude, annoying, insane, depressed, crying, irrational, or all of the above. Once I start worrying about that, the little mistakes turn into even bigger mistakes. This keeps going until I swear it sounds as if I've been sight reading the sonata! 

Usually, about a day or so before the actual performance, everything goes back to normal. I've completely torn apart the piece, gone back to square one, and reworked every tricky passage. I have the sense that everything will be "okay". It's a little depressing for me to think that something will be "okay". I expect perfection! When that doesn't happen (and let's face it, it's nearly impossible) I get a little......uhh, a lot......bummed.

Until now.

Pre-performance class was the same. Everything was right in line...I went nuts, cried, thought I couldn't play the piano ever again....the whole sha-bang. The performance itself was definitely not perfect. According to my teacher it was the fastest on record, which was a reflection on the speed of my heart-rate. I messed a few measures, and had to restart a scalar passage. I was pretty well annoyed with myself. Accepting any praise was difficult, because I saw it as "pity-praise". You know what I'm talking about; the sense that someone is congratulating you only to make them seem polite. Then, about an hour later, I did what no post-performance person is ever meant to do: I immediately watched the video.

Yes, the mistakes were there. It isn't like they didn't occur, or were hidden in some way. But there was also incredible musicality and purpose in my playing. Some passages were the best I'd ever played! Then I realized, if I hadn't done the performance, including those mistakes, those moments of wonder may not have occurred. How's that for a revelation?
 
In retrospect, it does seem a bit strange though. I've had many vocal performances, both solo and choral, and the same piano-craziness-world-is-ending-today bit doesn't happen. I think it may be because voice has never been a "serious" thing. I never felt like I was competing against anyone, because I always assumed that they were better than me to begin with. I started wondering if the same will begin to happen with voice. If it does, can someone hit me over the head with a 2X4 and bring me to some sense!?!? Any performance opportunity (audition, concert, car ride, shower....) should be viewed as an opportunity to present something beautiful, not as an opportunity to present perfection. That doesn't mean that non-beautiful things will never happen, but they won't matter as much! Mistakes inevitably will happen. In order to stop making mistakes, you have to stop making music. If you stop making music, then nothing beautiful, wonderful, awe-inspiring, joyous, or emotional will ever happen!

In other news, no I haven't been running since that last time. I need to get on a better sleep schedule. Pre- and post- Valentine's sugar is seriously messing with my internals. I'm back to reality as of today, and feeling so much better already. I also realized, now that I want to try and do more, especially marathon and performance wise, I need to act like I'm worthy of those things 24/7. Who says they want to run a marathon and then goes and puts sugary, worthless junk into their system at night and tries to run in the morning? It used to be, I wanted to be healthier to lose weight. Now, I want to be healthier so I can do everything!!! For my Type-2 brain, this makes perfect sense. If [A (having genius new plans for excitement)] + [B (eating healthier)] = [Fun life and exciting opportunities], why wouldn't I do it? (Here endeth the math lesson)

Love,
Lauren