The Critic and the Judge

A few years ago, while playing with the Colorado Symphony, I had a breakthrough realization about my self-talk. Like many people, I have struggled with performance anxiety and negative self-talk. While I was a fellow with The New World Symphony (and pretty much doing nothing but taking auditions) I realized that I wanted to find a coach to work with me to fix these problems. Sports psychologists like Don Greene have written books that provide extremely helpful information, but I wanted my own Don Greene to work with me one on one. I found just such a person in Dr. Pete Popejoy. Another trombonist and New World Symphony fellow, Doug Rosenthal, has written about his experience and success working with Dr. Popejoy, in a guest blog post on Toby Oft’s page (http://www.tobyoft.com/featured-a-tale-of-two-auditions/) for those who are interested in reading about his experience.

The Adult, the Child, and the Critic

In our work together, one of the helpful tools Dr. Popejoy gave me was to name the different voices of my self-talk. The fearful voice is the “child”, the voice of reason is the “adult”, and the mean, unhelpful voice is the “critic”. Being able to name the voices means taking ownership of them and being able to redirect the conversation that is taking place. When the child is afraid, the adult can speak calmly and rationally. For example, when one is nervous about a performance, that voice is the child. While the child is afraid, the adult knows that one has practiced enough to be prepared and doesn’t have anything to worry about.

The hardest voice for me to quiet has always been the critic. The critic seems to speak from a place of authority and is always the loudest and most confident with its assertions. “You suck.” “That was terrible.” “You will never get this right.” On the day of my breakthrough, I realized that part of the reason I was giving my critic so much credit for its opinions was because of the title of critic. A critic is supposed to, in the purest form, give critiques. Critiques are supposed to be helpful and lead one to be able to improve. As musicians we critique ourselves in the practice room and seek out critiques from teachers, colleagues, and friends in order to improve. The problem is that the critic doesn’t give critiques at all; it passes judgments. I had been listening to my critic, even when I didn’t want to, because I thought there was something in what it was saying that would help me get better. Some part of me thought that if I ignored its opinions then I was ignoring a problem that needed fixing. In order to help me reinforce this realization, I renamed this voice the “judge”. The judge doesn’t say anything constructive. Nothing the judge says can be used to help one improve. The judge simply makes blanket statements of negative judgments about the player and his or her performance.

Silencing the Judge

Once I realized that the statements were not helpful in nature, I finally understood how to redirect the conversation. Recognizing that the judge is in no way helpful, the adult can silence it by pointing out helpful critiques and how to improve them. For every negative judgment, the adult can counter with facts. When one hears the judge say, “that sucked”, the adult can interject, “No, it didn’t suck, I simply missed this note.” When a mistake happens, the player can name what it is instead of tearing themselves down over it. Once the mistake is named, then the player can think about why it happened.

“I cracked the note.

Why?

Because I wasn’t confident about the pitch.

Why?

I didn’t hear it before the entrance.

Why?

I was focused on not missing the note.

How can I not do the same thing next time?

I will sing the note clearly in my head before the entrance.”

This kind of internal dialogue leads to improvement and confident playing. Once the mistake is analyzed and the source of the problem is identified, the player feels empowered because he or she knows exactly how not to repeat it. Instead of worrying the next time the entrance comes around, the player is excited to try out what he or she has learned.

In contrast to adult-led dialogues, the dialogues that happen when the judge is guiding the conversation lead to insecurity and fear. 

“That sucked.

I know.

You suck; you will never get this right.

I hope the conductor doesn’t go back to that spot today.”

The first dialogue is the adult thinking things through on its own. The second dialogue is the judge causing the child to spin out of control with fear and self-doubt. It’s not easy to dismiss the judge and silence its opinions. I am not even sure that it is possible. What is possible is to let the adult step in with reason and denounce what the judge is saying.

Adult-Led Dialogue

Sometimes the reason that something did not go well in a performance or a practice session is very clear.

“I cracked the first note of Bolero.

Why?

I didn’t hear the high B flat clearly in my head.

Why?

I was thinking about not missing it.

What can I do next time to avoid missing it?

I can focus on hearing and feeling the note before my entrance.”

When a performer has a thorough understanding of his or her playing, then he or she is able to analyze a situation and identify whatever factor or factors may have led to a less than stellar execution.

“I missed my soft, high entrance and hit the lower partial.

Why?

I was tight and pinching, trying not to play too loud.

Why?

I was tentative.

Why?

The whole orchestra was playing extra softly leading up to the entrance and I

     didn’t want to stick out.

What can I do to be less tentative next time?

I can try to disengage the analytical part of my brain (and any possible

     negative self-talk) by engaging in the music and listening to the rest of the

     orchestra before the entrance.

What did being tentative cause in my playing?

I was not breathing deeply.

What can I do to combat this next time?

I can do some deep, slow breathing in the time leading up to the entrance to

     keep my body relaxed.

What else?

What can I do to avoid this next time?

I can focus on playing the note well and be ready to quickly diminuendo if it is not perfectly balanced at the start.”

Not everyone who is reading this may have a deep enough awareness when he or she is playing to easily come up with the above dialogue on his or her own. When one doesn’t know the cause, one has to start making guesses and asking questions.

“I cracked a random note in a phrase.

Why?

I have no idea.

Was there an awkward leap/interval that I missed or didn’t hear?

No.

Was I running out of air?

No.

Was my slide technique accurate?

Yes.

Was I completely focused the entire phrase?

No.

Could my mind wondering slightly have caused me to crack the note?

Yes.

What can I do to avoid that problem next time?

I will keep my mind focused on the music by singing my part in my head. This

     also disengages the analytical side of my brain.”

It is possible that there was something else contributing to the cracked note other than the mind wondering, but by finding one problem and fixing it, the player has eliminated one variable and also made him or herself more conscious of what is happening when he or she is playing. When the player goes back to this spot, he or she will be paying greater attention to all aspects of his or her playing. This deeper awareness will make the next round of dialogue much easier if simply keeping focus does not solve the problem.

Being the Teacher

When one doesn’t know the cause of an error, the knowledge that one gains from one’s teachers needs to be put into practice. Starting from the most obvious questions about the difficulty of the music in question, then moving to more fundamental questions about air, buzz, slide technique, mental focus etc., anyone can find the cause. By asking questions, making a hypothesis, and testing that hypothesis the player learns about his or her weaknesses.

“I had made an airball on a slur.

Did I stop or slow my air between the notes?

I’m not sure.

Then I will try it again and focus on keeping my air continuous on that slur.

I did it again.

Did I move my slide too early in the slur or take a long time to change positions?

I’m not sure.

I will try it again and keep my air moving, but also focus on leaving my slide in place until the last second and move it quickly and

     smoothly to the next position.

That fixed the slur."

By keeping a log of the things one’s teacher tells one about any type of playing, one can go through that log in an instance like the above example. When a player encounters a problem, he or she can try each bit of advice he or she has received from his or her teacher until a solution is reached. Each time this technique is used, the player will get better and recognizing his or her typical problems. Most importantly, he or she is taking control of his or her improvement and not only relying on the teacher to tell them what the problem is in the weekly lesson.

The Five Why’s

The inspiration for how my adult example dialogue is formatted is rooted in a technique called The Five Why’s. Originally developed by Sakichi Toyota, this is a very common tool in business. I have included a brief video at the bottom of the page which explains this technique. Noa Kageyama, of the fabulous blog bulletproofmusician.com, explains it in relation to music perfectly:

The 5 Whys technique is based on the premise that underlying the missed notes or other technical glitches you are struggling with, is a root cause. That there is something you are doing (or not doing) that produces the undesirable result you are getting out of your instrument – but which may not be immediately apparent.

The five why’s process entails asking why until you find the root cause, whether it takes one, five, or twenty-five why’s to find it. To learn more about this process and where it comes from check out this post http://www.bulletproofmusician.com/make-practicing-less-frustrating-with-the-5-whys-technique/.

Conclusion

No performer is perfect and every one of us is going to make mistakes. It is how each of us reacts to our mistakes that matters. An error can be the entrance down the rabbit hole of self-doubt and loathing, or it can be an opportunity to better understand one’s self and improve.