Stephen Cox, Pianist

    Thoughts about Stage Fright

    We know everyone’s experience with performance anxiety (stage fright) is unique. It depends upon so many things: not the least of which is the nature of the music the performer is playing or singing, expectations and demands.

    Acknowledging that our experiences are different, and that some people don’t suffer much from stage fright at all: there are common-enough elements of performance anxiety, for it to be almost universal. This blog post is for those of us who experience it!

    Noah Adams’ book ‘Piano Lessons: Music, Love, and True Adventures‘ has a wonderful description of his experience of playing for people.

    He was learning to play the piano at age 52, he picked a fairly tricky Schumann piece (‘Traumerei’). His goal was to take lessons for a few months and play the piece for his wife in a surprise event. He’s a mature adult who’s courageous and has accomplished so many difficult things in his life: radio host to millions of people, writer, etc. Yet the experience of performing surprised him with how difficult it was.

    He articulated well, re: his surprise at the athleticism of playing (especially in front of people), the weird and irrational physical sensations of stage fright.

    • One could assume that playing or singing for others is a transcendent experience; but there is so much that’s athletic about it: retaining focus, sustaining intensity and energy, remaining connected to what’s important; you’re required to have endurance to be able to play for however long and hard is required. None of these abilities is negotiable, without all of them, you can’t prevail.

    This topic of performance anxiety isn’t covered very often in most music lessons or music curricula – why isn’t it?

    Toastmasters is a helpful experience for speaking (I recommend it!); they’ve developed well-tested tools to work through stage fright and other obstacles to good public speaking. Some of those lessons can be useful for music-making as well.

    In my experience some of those things Toastmaster does so well includes:

    • setting up supportive environments and teams, whose purpose is to help their members, to help each other
    • providing good ways to correct bad & distracting habits. Some may feel that hearing a little bell being rung whenever a speaker uses ‘fillers’ such as ‘um’ or ‘err’ is cruel punishment; but it’s meant to help prune distracting and counter-productive habits, and most people become aok with that.
    • practical tools are provided to build one’s ‘chops’ in speaking, a structure for putting in the time and practice, paths for advancement for as far as you want to go

    I’m not going to delve into the topic of spirituality or religion, we know metaphysics or meditation, etc., play huge roles for many; e.g., Michael Brecker and Herbie Hancock (just to name a couple) found studying Buddhism to be a massive help in all aspects of music-making.

    I’m also not going to write much about supplements or drugs, special exercises. The use of all of these is a giant topic, beyond the scope of this brief post!

    I have to mention though, if the myriad flavors of Beta Blockers had been as prevalent when I was in school as they are now, I certainly would’ve tried one (likely more)!

    We know healthful habits like exercise, stretching, mindfulness: are hugely helpful for our physical instrument. I haven’t had experience with Alexander Technique, but hear many good things about it. (I was a surprised how expensive it is though!) We know anyone can benefit from concentrating on breathing too, e.g., if/when panic hits.

    Worth mentioning up front: for us musicians, some form of psychotherapy is a must to my view – is almost universally helpful. I admit to some bias: I have family and friends in the field, and had good experiences along the way with folks I worked with:

    Regarding drugs, there are a couple of stories I couldn’t resist sharing:

    Returning to topic of mental practices, there are common thought-processes that are helpful. Here are bits of advice I’ve picked up from other musicians, from reading, comparing notes with people in other fields, and stumbling upon along the way:

    • Consider the performance as a snapshot-in-time, in your journey with that piece of music and with your playing or singing – rather than treating the gig as be-all-and-end-all (however important it might be).
      • In the continuum of your life: it likely won’t be the last time you work on and/or perform that piece of music; you’ll come back to it later with better insight, and as a better player.
      • Entertaining regrets re: how far along you are with the piece and/or as a player is a waste and should be dismissed as bogus train-of-thought
      • I like to think of practicing and performing the piece of music as building something over time: practicing is like diligently building and piecing things together; the performance is a presentation of results of that prior effort and time.
    • Practice enough, until it really feels you’ve turned a corner with the piece(s); alas, for most, that happens somewhere in over-kill territory!
      • Of course not everyone has the luxury of spending large amounts of time on a given piece, they may have to squish more music into a small amount of time, or might be sight-reading.
      • Keep a practice diary and note the point of time when you feel you’ve turned a corner. Could you perform it now, without being flummoxed?
      • I’ve read and heard of the concept of a ‘file cabinet’ – a mental ‘cache’: as you practice, portions of the song get added into a cache or file cabinet, no longer requiring you to think through it, it’s stashed there for direct/instant access by your ‘inner player’.
        • This concept agrees with principles of ‘The Inner Game of Tennis’ which describes getting/staying out of the way of your inner player, letting that player be unencumbered. (As you know, there are several other Inner Game books, including one on music; the original tennis one is still my favorite.)
      • You likely will be sick of that piece way before the gig! That weariness is a familiar sensation along the path to memorization. We know memorizing is ideal (including – or especially – for jazz songs): of course not always feasible; but at least selective memorization of the most uncomfortable/trickier bits.
    • If possible get used to playing the piece of music in less-than-ideal situations
      • Tiger Woods’ father, Earl Woods famously tossed balls at him while he practiced, to help make him a more focused and resilient player.
      • A less-known story of that same flavor of training: in the 1940s, Bernard Gabriel hosted ‘Society of Timid Souls’ in his Manhattan apartment. Folks played while other members made noises, rang bells, acted rudely.
        • This became the basis of a book written by Polly Morland of the same title: she explores the nature of courage, brave deeds of musicians and non-musicians
      • For most of us, that bit of training might be simple as playing on an unfamiliar piano, or a piano we don’t like, playing for people we don’t know, in an unfamiliar opportunity you might chance upon.
        • If you’re alert and lucky you might find opportunities. I was waiting at Santa Barbara Airport Baggage Claim, and saw a little public piano was there, I played on it a little bit. The piano needed tuning – it wasn’t a ‘serious’ instrument, I was surrounded by strangers intent on other things. So it checked some of those boxes above!
          • The piano was fancifully-painted, it was a nice surprise (https://flysba.santabarbaraca.gov/news/sbas-newly-painted-piano) – why not take advantage of it being there!
    • To gain some freedom to ‘grok’ a piece: now and then play the piece completely freely, with improvisation; e.g., for a classical piece, play it like a pop tune; for a jazz piece play it with any changes that come to mind, let your mind drift freely.
    • Don’t treat practice sessions as dry-runs or tests of your readiness. In infrequent and a pre-meditated fashion, do a virtual dress rehearsal; but don’t treat other practice sessions that way (with do-or-die mind-set)
      • frequent slow practice of course is key
    • Don’t be dismayed if stupid sections turn out to be the hardest to master
      • be observant in a judgment-free way of your feelings about the piece: portions of the piece are going to feel stupid and pointless at many times, you’ll question the wisdom of your choice of the piece
    • Think of the stage fright as a familiar and reliable co-traveler (calling it a friend is a stretch): you expect it to be there, there is no surprise to you and you feel no danger or threat, recognizing its presence again.
      • Assume the co-traveler will be along with you. I’m sure there are some who take leave from that stow-away; but many or most of us find that familiar traveler is always there with us!
        • For some, performance anxiety can arrive later in their life, like some forms of allergies!
      • Often once the performance starts, the physical stage-fright symptoms diminish, but not always (can’t count on it to decrease, and don’t be dismayed if it doesn’t happen that way)
    • Build up endurance to play through the entirety of what it is you’re going to play for the gig (in full and with ease): do complete run-throughs often enough so that it doesn’t seem like such a long slog of playing.
      • On that topic: don’t practice too much before the gig, just do some run-throughs and go about your day, save some energy.
      • The wonderful jazz bassist, Ken Wild, mentioned to me that he sometimes he likes to play a bit of golf before a gig!
    • ‘Just have fun with it’: we hear that advice often, to my ears it often feels like weird advice; but there is some wisdom in it. It’s not the fun we’d associate with activites like watching a movie or eating a nice meal, but there are other kinds of satisfaction to derive.
      • I like to imagine that I’m an actor getting into a part; in a real way all us musicians are indeed actors: we’re conveying the idea behind the piece as an actor does, and we have to put ourself into the mind-set of our assigned part. There is satisfaction from doing that!
        • We know it’s true that singers often think that way when they’re performing: not just for operas or musicals, where a part is explicitly defined, but for any song!
      • There is also gratitude: that we’re alive, and are able to play!
    • Know in advance that – as long as you’ve practiced – you’ll likely receive stoke from the experience; e.g., afterwards you might have a sense that you can do more than you thought you could do, accomplishing something grand, knowing that you’re moving onwards in your journey; maybe a sense of doing something good for the world (that is appropriate!).
      • I’ve also read many (i.e., the folks who don’t love to perform) who treat performing for people as a price-to-pay (a tax!) for the privilege of being engaged in music, or a necessary step to move along the journey. I reckon that’s not a terrible way to look of things too.
    • Keep in mind you aren’t alone – it may feel so, but others have had the experience and worked through it; that can be useful to remember.
    • In Toastmasters, I remember the question came up: what’s considered to be the worst-case scenario of a speech? What could be the worst that can befall you? The answer was: one could faint during a speech (it’s happened!). But it’s a remote probability, it can be dismissed as a possible outcome; every other speed-bump may then feel smaller in comparison.
      • On that topic: if you aren’t feeling physically well enough, get a sub in advance! Don’t be dismayed to do so.
      • Get as much rest as possible before the gig (if possible), be kind to yourself so you have energy in reserve.
      • Don’t be dismayed if you’re in a persistent negative mental-state during the day before the gig (or even further in advance); that’s a common experience many of us observe (it might be an unconscious mechanism for conserving energy). Consider that as another familiar part of the ride.

    I’d be curious to hear if your experiences align, if some of these practices are useful in your musical journey, or if you might have others!