Renaissance trenches

Yesterday, I got some feedback from a couple of my professors.

The first came from my choral conducting teacher. Our in-class projects for the rest of the semester are to teach and rehearse an assigned portion of the Beethoven Mass in C, and the conductors receive feedback from the class and our professor after each 12-minute session. After I finished, Dr. S turned to me and said, “Lots of singing, not much talking - I can tell you’ve been in the trenches.”

The second comment came from my advisor, at the end of a Vocal Coaching class, where I accompany undergrad musical theatre singers as they’re coached in acting through song. After the singers had left, my advisor turned to me and said, “You’re having a Piano Renaissance over there - you’re really playin’ it!”

As my first semester of grad school draws to a close, I was very glad to receive these words of encouragement. More than just empty bragging, they represent to me a couple important - and universal - lessons about honing a craft.

First, Dr. S’s comment recognizing that I have experience. The truth is, I have quite a bit of experience working with choirs (for someone who doesn’t do it for a living). At one time, I had seriously considered entering the profession.

But more importantly, the lesson here is in emphasizing experience over essentialism. Specifically, Dr. S recognizes that facility and skill are the products of doing the work when the stakes are real - what we call experience. This is in contrast with essentialism, meaning whatever ability someone has innately, as part of their essence. For anyone trying to master a skill, one’s experience will ultimately matter more than whatever seedlings of skill they’re born with.

Second, my advisor’s comment about my piano playing. This was particularly meaningful to me because pianistic excellence is one of my 5 major goals in attending grad school. This goal in particular has not been an idle one - nearly every single day since I was given access to a piano here in Cincinnati, I’ve spent a couple of hours alone at the keyboard, applying the principles of deliberate practice and deep work. I record every vocal coaching, voice lesson, and major practice session that I play for, and then I review and analyze the tapes, seeking out every opportunity to improve.

Some people view giving this kind of time consistently as a sacrifice, something that then entitles them to feelings of superiority or martyrdom.

To me, the time I spend every day trying to get better is simply the toll one must pay to cross the bridge into the Land of Being World-Class.

I leave you with a quote I first heard from one of my earliest mentors when I was twelve years old:

“If you want to be the best, you’ve got to pay the price.”