Zelenz Academy

On Practicing

Monday, December 15, 2014 by Shella Zelenz | Practicing

I have to admit, I am a very unconventional classical teacher. Of course I expect my students to practice. I uphold high standards for them. However, those standards are based upon a core belief that I have about their ability. I have rarely had a student that I didn't think wasn't capable of great things. The few that I felt were not going to do well either didn't want to be taking lessons in the first place (parents forced them) or they had some form of physical or psychological delay that prevented them from being capable of doing more. That does not mean that students with disabilities have not succeeded under my teaching. They have. Some have completely blown me away with what we were able to bring out in them.

 

How does this happen? Well, I don't ask them to write down how often or how long they practice. I don't usually ask them unless it is obvious they didn't practice at all, then I merely mention they might want to change that. That's it. No reports. No reprimands. No threats. Just, "well I guess you should work on that." Then I move on to whatever our focus is for the day.

 

Why do I do this? Well, first of all, being heavy handed when teaching is highly unpleasant for me. If it is unpleasant for me, it is unpleasant for the student. Sometimes unpleasantness can provide good results and I may use it if I deem it necessary, but I rarely find it necessary. What I find more compelling to engage students in wanting to practice is to fully engage them emotionally in the experience of learning music.

 

They are going to feel something no matter what you do in your lessons with them. They may feel contempt at you or their parents for making them take lessons. They may feel overly excited at the opportunity and burst at the seams to the point that they can't even focus. They may be incredibly shy and terrified to expose themselves. They may feel like you are the first person who has truly ever heard their soul. I try to be the last teacher. They may come in with any of the other previously mentioned feelings, but my goal at the end of the lesson is to make them feel like their soul has been heard.

 

Once that psychological barrier is broken into, the student will passionately practice far more than they ever would have if given a rigid routine and reporting structure to follow (which in most cases result in the previously mentioned contempt, a rigid belief in crossing x means accomplishment, or fear). My goal as a teacher is to eradicate fear, banish rigid beliefs, and not provide finish lines. It should always be exploration of one's own abilities to full capacity, which can never be fully known. However, if the student feels their soul is heard, what will result from their practicing are performances that transcend the student and audiences alike.

 

In the end, they move my soul.