Is fear holding you back?

As musicians, overcoming our fears is one of our biggest challenges. Allowing ourselves to become vulnerable vehicles for the music we wish to share is a momentous task, immediately peeling away the layers to expose our truest selves to an audience full of people we may have never met.

After the performance, however, no matter how fearful you were prior to or during it, it's a time of intense exhilaration. You can't wait for the next opportunity to perform. How can we cultivate that fearless feeling in the performance itself and live life as it's meant to be lived?

A few weeks ago, I began reading Madeline Bruser's The Art of Practicing for a second time. This time, I've been able to get through the book much more quickly and it's been a surprise to find that I've absorbed so much of the information in the book and am applying it to my music making. It's such an excellent resource to have, and obviously worth re-reading every now and then.

Near the end of the book, in Chapter 14, Bruser speaks about transforming fear into fearlessness. In the section, she discusses how fear may keep us from discovering a new way of identifying ourselves. 

I took this away - each time I experience self doubt, I am fearful. I'm experiencing fear in the times that I don't feel capable of performing to my fullest potential. Instead of waiting for a "big break" to come, start transforming performances with fearlessness. Don't limit your performance to what fear dictates you can handle.

I know what it feels like to be fearless. My study of Body Mapping and the Alexander Technique has enabled me to slowly integrate a complete mind-body connection into my awareness as I practice and perform. In choosing to live my life with awareness, I am choosing to let go of the fears that can restrain me in performance.

Transforming fear into fearlessness is the first step to performing with freedom and true artistry. As your performances come to life, your confidence will blossom and your identity may shape into something more powerful than you ever thought possible. This will bring more opportunities your way.

We spend so much time seeking validation from external sources that we forget what is possible on our own. When you allow the validation to come from within, the chance of getting that "big break" will become more likely. As with anything in life, end gaining does nothing but cause despair when we get off track. Simply accepting what is and cultivating resiliency will benefit you in many more ways than endless start and stops.

You can transform fear into fearlessness by having the courage to share what is in your heart, enjoying the process and letting go of what you think you should be doing. Instead, live with passion, live with heart and most of all, live with the confidence that you are an artist in the present moment.

In the words of Bruser, "We can keep growing only if we face our fear and dare to step forward through it."

Summerflute Thoughts, Part Three

Masterclass with Liisa Ruoho (thanks to Meerenai Shim for taking this photo)

I continued through the week, enjoying the combination of Alexander Technique, Body Mapping and Feldenkrais while preparing for my next performance for Liisa Wednesday afternoon. On Tuesday, I rehearsed with collaborative pianist Yien Wang and WOW! I had chosen to play the 4th movement of the Reinecke Undine Sonata, and this sonata is a a beast for pianists; however, we ran the movement twice and I felt completely at ease with her by the end of the short rehearsal. She was a treat to work with, and I loved watching her perform during the classes and recitals as she has a wonderful ease in her playing.

The fourth movement is the climax of the Undine story. Hilary Bromeisl describes this movement as,

"The finale movement is the most dramatic and incorporates Hulbrand's scolding, Undine's vain pleading, and the anger and revenge of the water spirits. Despite her anguished appeals, Undine must herself be the instrument of Hulbrand's punishment. At the wedding of Hulbrand and Berthalda, Undine sadly appears and gives Hulbrand a kiss that kills him. At the knight's funeral, Undine secretly joins the mourners. She then vanishes and in her place appears a spring of water from which two small streams encircle the new grave. The return of the loving theme used for the love Undine first felt for Hulbrand creates a touching mood to end the sonata."

Having performed the sonata twice in its entirety recently, I felt that I was ready to take the piece to a new level and I was interested to get Liisa's feedback. When I learned this movement, I found the very dramatic nature of the movement caused old patterns of tension to return. My solution at the time was to find the point of least work at all dynamic levels, and play within certain volume ranges in order to approach this piece differently than I may have before. My goal was to find the "Goldilocks Effort" (Kay Hooper's Sensory Tune-ups) for this movement.

In fact, I had chosen not to really practice the movement at all. I wanted to see what emerged and in the rehearsal with Yien, I began experimenting with the sound to express the unfolding drama instead of only dynamics. Interestingly enough, Liisa's suggested the same path I was feeling.


In my second performance of the week, I noticed a new element. Where the Bach had felt small, I felt that I had a hard time trusting enough to give myself completely to the Reinecke. I desperately wanted to experiment, but my efforts fell flat because of a lack of confidence in myself. I was connected to the music and to the audience this time around, but I played it safe.

Liisa's direction was pretty simple. Give yourself completely to the music and all the emotions it expresses. For the fourth movement of the Reinecke, this is a big job and it meant playing a lot louder. If I had taken Liisa's suggestion at face value without any knowledge of my body, I would have simply proceeded to try harder which would have resulted in a lot of muscle tension. Instead, she had not only asked me to play and feel more emotion, but she was essentially having me translate her directions on the spot with her guidance.

Just like in my prior performance, I had changes in my sound happen immediately. I tried a few phrases and although I wasn't attempting to muscle my way through, I did notice a big difference in how I used my whole body.


One of the points Amy touched on through the week in What Every Musician Needs to Know about the Body was the need for translation. When a teacher tells you something, it is your responsibility to translate it onto the instrument. This is where Body Mapping can come in handy, and this is how I was able to apply Liisa's suggestions right away on stage.

For example, say your flute teacher asks you to support the sound more. What does this mean? Traditional pedagogy can sometimes be very vague and when discussing internal aspects of flute playing, students are left to decipher what something like "support" means. This deciphering is otherwise known as translation, and if you can translate musical instruction through the lens of Body Mapping, the results can be very positive and can lead to more expansive, musical playing.

Trust and translation. Two huge lessons all in the span of 25 minutes.

Summerflute Thoughts, Part Two

Liisa Ruoho and Me

I arrived at Summerflute on Monday and jumped right in. I had a private Body Mapping lesson with Amy Likar, who is my sponsoring teacher as I undertake the Andover Educator training. Since she is also a certified Alexander Technique teacher, we did some table work. This put me on the path for greater learning for several reasons.

After having only gotten around 3 hours of sleep the night before and since I had just spent the morning travelling to Georgia from Pennsylvania, my playing was quite disembodied which didn't surprise me at all. I was still carrying an incredible amount of tension in my neck from carrying both laptop and duffel bags. I also had an enormous amount of personal stress to contend with as well, which happened to come spilling out during the lesson. This clearing helped me feel less like 2 persons, and more like myself and ready for the week ahead.

The lesson centered around basic Alexander principles with Amy encouraging my tactile awareness as I laid on the table. She encouraged me to accept what I was feeling and thinking, while tying it to my freedom of choice (inhibition). At the end of the lesson, I played the portion of the Allemande of the Bach Partita again and this time, it felt freer and more like myself.

I feel it's worth mentioning here that since seriously undertaking this work in the past year, I have gone through transition periods where I lose my sound and lose how it feels to play. It's an odd (and sometimes tear inducing) feeling that I have to patiently work through. I was very hopeful that the week would help me return to a new and better place.

Later in the evening, I got my first opportunity to perform in the first masterclass with Liisa Ruoho. I eagerly volunteered to play first since I had gotten such little sleep. I played all of the Allemande for her, and what I noticed most was how small I felt in relation to the hall. The Schwob School of Music at Columbus State University has beautiful performance spaces. Legacy Hall was no exception.

In addition to feeling small, I also felt disconnected from those sitting in the hall. Because I have never performed the Bach and I'm still figuring out what I want to do with it musically, my inclusive awareness was narrowed. I missed several notes because each time I wanted to connect with the audience through visual contact, I would lose my place in the music.

Liisa offered suggestions that provided immediate results. She first had me play the first note of the movement, which is an E2 asking me to play in the space around myself with more space in the mouth and thinking of the space in my nasal cavities to increase resonance with less effort. Listening behind me also helped open up my sound, and I produced a more musical and resonant sound that filled the hall.

From here, she asked me to play leaning against the piano as if I were having a beer and talking with a friend. This time, I really played the Bach like I wanted and was quite surprised. Shifting away from "good flute player" stance and into a relaxed position helped me access the music much easier. Since then, I've returned to this position in practice and while I always return to my regular position, I find that it's easier to access what I want. I like to think of it as a modified monkey (please comment if you don't know what monkey is and would like additional explanation).

Liisa encouraged several of us performers through the week to play with the composer as a partner. This mindset makes something as intimidating as the Bach Partita much more enjoyable to play. Although I wasn't looking forward to playing on the first day knowing how tired I would be, the lesson with Amy and performance for Liisa went hand in hand.


No matter what we're dealing with in our lives, professionally or personally, accepting ourselves and the baggage we carry is essential to performing with freedom and joy. At this point, I'm happily and slowly making my way and I'm happy for the downtime I have as I figure the next level out for myself. While performing is incredibly important to me, I feel that I have nothing to prove to anyone. Was the Monday night performance my best ever? Not in any way, but that was the best I could offer at that moment in time and I accept that.


Even though I didn't feel secure in my initial performance of the Bach, Liisa's teaching instantly inspired and motivated me to jump into the practice room to figure out a solution. My mood lifted as my motivation returned and even though I didn't have much time to practice during the week, I was able to explore enough on my own to keep making discoveries through the week.

In my next post, I'll talk about my second masterclass performance and what the fourth movement of the Reinecke Sonata brought to the surface.