Let's suppose we've got a pair of hypothetical identical twins, Robert and Bobert. Both are creative lads: Robert is a painter, and Bobert is a guitarist, but in all other ways they are identical. Let's suppose further that the two 'berts go to an indoor climbing gym for the first time. Which do you think would be the better climber? If I had been asked this a week ago, I probably wouldn't have been able to come up with an answer. If one were more athletic, I would give him the advantage, but they're physically identical. Similarly, if one used his hands more than the other, I would give him the advantage, but they both have interests which require a high level of dexterity. So who takes this one?
----
When learning a new piece of music, there are essentially two different processes one must employ in order to master the challenging sections. The first is to determine an efficient path that can be used to hit each note accurately. This may not apply to instruments for which there is only one fingering or position that can be used to play a given pitch, but stringed instruments, brasses, and percussion all present some degree of choice to the musician: Should I hit the high E with my ring finger or my pinky? Would it be easier to change my lip position before or after this half note? Should I start this tom fill on my right hand or my left?
The second process is to drill the passage over and over again until it can be consistently played at full tempo, error-free, with rhythmic accuracy, and with all the dynamics and flavorings that the artist or composer desires. Sometimes it takes ten tries. Sometimes hundreds. Sometimes it makes you want to smash your instrument into tiny pieces, but (hopefully) you resist this urge and get the piece to sound exactly like what you think it should sound like.
Neither one of these processes is particularly useful without the other. A good plan is meaningless without having put in the effort to be able to execute it, and persistent drilling can go to waste if you're using a path that is impossible to play at full speed. I find that the fastest route to mastery is to alternate between the two phases: determine a basic plan, play through it a few times, make adjustments, play it some more, make more adjustments, and so on and so forth.
----
On Monday night, I tagged along with my brother and his chums to go to their favorite climbing gym. On one side of the room were the top rope courses, in which a rope runs from the climber's harness up to the ceiling, then back down to a belayer. On the other side of the room were the bouldering courses, which were shorter, steeper, and didn't use ropes at all. Both walls were covered with handholds and footholds of every shape and size, but the holds were color-coded to create specific courses of varying difficulty levels.
Upon swiftly conquering the first two courses I tried, I felt confident that my childhood days spent clambering around on trees had paid off. However, I quickly found myself getting completely stumped by a pink course with a difficult rating of zero (rather humbling, as you can imagine). I would start climbing, fall, then immediately try again with the same results. Within minutes, my arms were so tired that I could barely hold myself up, and my hands were covered with blisters. After a few embarrassing attempts at the pink course, one of my more experienced cohorts came over and showed me that it was better to grab a particular handhold with my left hand instead of my right. "Sometimes you really have to come up with a good sequence to be able to get to the top."
And then it suddenly clicked, and I knew exactly what to do. I chalked up my hands, implemented the change, and then fell shortly thereafter. I took a step back and looked up at the wall. "Alright, why didn't that work?" Climb. Fall. Rest, adjust. Climb. Fall. Rest, adjust. Climb. Succeed. Smile. I am Bobert, hear me roar!
----
Week 26 total: 18 hours
Grand total: 612.5 hours
Required pace: 500 hours (+112.5)
No comments:
Post a Comment