Piano World Home Page Forums Our Most Popular Forums Pianist Corner What do you think about while you're playing?

With my improvisation there is often an initial period of conscious thought serving as a starting mechanism, but once fully under way I am more of a listener and spectator. If associations, emotions and images occur I allow them free rein. However, any such thoughts are usually both personal and mundane, decidedly undramatic, lacking sense to anyone else and are very rarely attached to the recording during later hearings. In short, I just let my mind run free.

This brings to mind a quote from Alan Walker's wonderful biography of Liszt, volume 1:

"He himself (Liszt) occasionally went out of his way to make an enemy of powerful aristocrats if he thought that his dignity as an artist had suffered. Into this category falls his chilling reply to Tsar Nicholas I of Russia, who arrived late and then started talking during one of Liszt's recitals. When Nicholas inquired the cause of the hushed silence, Liszt, replied, 'Music herself should be silent when Nicholas speaks.' This public rebuke may well have cost Liszt a medal It was....the first time that "music herself" had answered back."

Later on the page it says that Liszt grew to detest the Tsar.

Er ... um ... Deborah; how many do you have - at the moment?

I completely understand Liszt's reaction. Funny (or sad) for me is that my mother is my WORST listener. She cannot keep her mouth shut to save her ever-lovin' soul! Unlike my father, who is the most attentive and interested listener I could ever hope for.

So how do I invite my father and ask my mother to stay home? LOL

I also feel when I play. It is an unplugging for me from "thinking". I lose all sense of time. The only inkling I have of time is when my butt starts to go numb from sitting so long. Then, I'll look at the clock and realize that 1 1/2 to 2 plus hours has gone by.

Playing is sacred to me; whether for myself or in public. I go to that special place that music, the piano, playing, takes me to.

Thank God for it. Don't know where I would be without it.

Add me to those who feel and lose all sense of time when they play.

For the first 2 1/2 years of me playing I was standing up the whole whole time. I had a keyboard and it was up on a high work bench in my room with no room underneath to sit. So I had to learn, practice and play everything standing up all the time. My butt going numb was never an issue, but my feet..oh my feet...

Oops.

I feel I'm way better off without conscious thought during a performance. If it's not "don't screw up ... etc." it's, "gee, that went pretty well, it's going to be fin.....oops, what was that?"

My guess is that Deborah is living in the negative world of a harem!

I try and listen ahead, and try and listen in my mind's ear (so to speak) what I'm about to play after what I'm playing now. I feel this helps me bring out the sound the way I want to.

This is what I try to do, however, I lose steam midway and random thoughts drift in like what I had for breakfast or something interesting that happened to me lately. I try as hard as possible to not let these random thoughts intrude, and I have a varying level of success. I have better success concentrating on the music when I play late nights or early mornings when there is silence around me.

I listen for the story in the music.

It depends with me on the state of mind I'm in. If I had a busy day I tend to wonder of during playing and immediately screw up. Even if it is the most easy piece.
And when I'm able to keep my mind focussed, then I can play for hours. When playing focussed, I'm really into the piece. Then the feeling part comes by itself. Sometimes, more or less unannounced, the chills go down my spine when I'm in the "zone". This happens especially in the f minor ballade after the second introduction theme up to the preparation of the coda. It really messes with my head. I guess this piece, especially these 4 pages of music, does that to people.

Well, my experience is a lot less profound than many of these.

I take a more "tinkering" approach while practicing. I'm always trying to fix a note over here, or tweak a crescendo over there, or try the voicing a few different ways over in that spot, or figure out what in the heck is going on with finger 4 in those two measures. Even when I'm playing through a piece, I'm thinking about whatever issues I was just working on in practice.

When performing, things are larger-scale, and I'm more focused on how to communicate the overall qualities of the music, and usually mentally singing along (it's an old Suzuki habit plus it keeps distracting thoughts away). The tinkering part of the brain is still accessible just in case something goes wrong and has to be fixed with a quick improv.

While I've never been carried away with emotion or had any of those magical experiences while playing, I always feel a great love for and deep connection to the music, and a desire to share my heart and the composer's heart with whoever happens to be listening.

I suppose practicing is like putting together a complicated piece of furniture with someone I deeply love. And performing is like serving that person a delicious meal on the piece of furniture we built.

That's... that's one of the nicest things I've ever read here.

Thank you Heather for that wonderful explaination of how you experience the music you play and practice. I agree with beet31425, that last sentence will help me enjoy and love practicing a lot more! It will stick with me. Thanks.
Omg I'm getting sentimental

Aww. And here I thought I was the dull one

No. Not dull. Change one letter. "Full." As in, "of meaning."

In answer to the OP--I do not think... I am listening too hard to think. Like Damon, I am listening for the story. If not the story, then, to the spirit. As a music notation reader, I am looking *through* the notes to the other side of the page, into the spirit of the sound of the strings that are hit by hammers. Into frequency. Into resonance. With meaning.

During practice: 'this has to be better, that has to be better, I am a lousy pianist, let's go for a walk, why am I not a lawyer, etc'.
During concert: 'I have to go to the loo, what drinks will thee be afterwards, if I play this correctly I earn myself a double whisky, what's the shopping for tomorrow, where shall we go on holiday, ...indecent stuff..., etc.'