Music and Emotions: Why One Does Not Exist Without the Other
Anyone can sit and play notes. Opening your heart is what makes the difference.
Hello! Hope your summer has been treating you well. I can’t believe June is almost over… but it’s sure been nice to have such nice, warm weather!
Practicing is well underway for my first master’s recital this fall. I am so excited to have this experience, as it will be unlike any other I have had! Normally, I have been one of several performers, so I only play 1-3 pieces. In this one, however, I will be the only performer, so I will perform for approximately one hour. I love my repertoire—however, it’s been very challenging. While I am always on the lookout for a great challenge to embrace, this time has felt a little different. Self-doubt has crept up multiple times, though the sticky notes I mentioned in my last post have been immensely helpful in warding that off.
However, I found myself so wrapped up in the technical challenges of the pieces that I was completely neglecting the beauty of them. Over the last few weeks, I have worked to tap into my deepest emotions while I am practicing. I try to remind myself to worry less about technical perfection and ponder more about the artistic expression. How can I make this sound more emotionally expressive? How can I tap into my own emotions? There are three helpful ways I have found:
1.) Listen to a piece that makes me feel sensitive or vulnerable. Take a minute to breathe after it ends.
2.) Reminisce about a beautiful, happy, fun, or even bittersweet memory. Keep photographs handy and channel that emotion into my playing.
3.) Keep sweet photographs of family and friends (particularly those who are no longer physically with me) nearby as I practice. Seeing the people I love most tends to be able to bring out many deep emotions.
While I still am far from technical perfection, I have seen a new channel open up in my practice. I feel as though I am beginning to become more unified with the music and even the instrument itself. While practicing the most difficult passages, I feel more free. There is a beauty in the music that I was, unfortunately, not noticing before (sounds like life in general, doesn’t it?). Hopefully I will be able to carry that beauty and freedom to my recital for my audience to feel. Playing from the heart will always mean more than playing technically “perfect.” As is often said about life—something to the effect of being “you.” Don’t worry about perfection. It’s unattainable. People—at least those who matter most—won’t care that you are imperfect. They are imperfect, too. It is your vulnerability and authenticity that will draw them in, because that is what they will relate to. Emotion bonds us, making it a truly beautiful thing.
“Music is what feelings sound like.”
Therefore, it is only with the presence of human emotions—not technical perfection—that music is truly created.
Community thread prompt: How do you release the pressure to be “perfect” and instead tap into your emotions?