Query re methods for decreasing organists' performance anxiety
  • This query is addressed primarily to organists. It's about a matter which, to judge by my searches, doesn't seem to have been covered in any earlier discussions on this website.

    The matter is this: does any participant on this forum have suggestions for decreasing performance anxiety - or stage fright, or whatever one wants to call it - among organists?

    There is, of course, a huge quantity of material about anti-performance-anxiety techniques devoted specifically to the needs of pianists, violinists, singers, and so forth. Regarding organists, though, almost nothing appears available except commentary that could apply to any vocalist or instrumentalist.

    I speak as (no point in denying it) one whose performance anxiety as a regular organist is getting worse rather than better. Today I gave a recital in which, through sheer sweaty panic, I messed up passages - particularly pedal passages - in Bach's Dorian Toccata and Fugue which hadn't given trouble in any of my practice sessions. (As well as, inevitably, one contrary-motion passage near the end which had; if you've ever played the piece you'll know which bar I mean.) Later in the recital, the performance anxiety eased, and I gave reasonable renditions of works by Sir Hubert Parry (Chorale Prelude on "Melcombe") and Sigfrid Karg-Elert (Fantasy on "Ein Feste Burg").

    Whether this panic is connected with a very slight stroke that I had early last year - and which required me to give up my regular organist's job at a diocesan Latin Mass church here in Australia - I'm not sure. I don't think that it is connected, since my recovery from that event has been complete in every other perceptible way.

    Anyhow, advice would be most gratefully considered. What methods do organists, as organists, find helpful in reducing performance anxiety to manageable levels? Deep breathing? Alexander techniques? One does not want (it should go without saying) to venture down the pharmacological road. Nor does one want to get mellowed out, to the point of musical illiteracy, by Oprah-type concepts of "nurturing" and "self-esteem".
  • To begin, don't beat up on yourself for one bad performance. We all have days when nothing goes right. I always have anxiety when there are complicated registration changes, particularly those involving toe pistons!

    Never take chances in your practice preparation. Memorize the scores even if you need them in performance as a psychological crutch. And by memorizing I mean learning each part (right hand, left hand, pedals) separately at a very slow speed. Rehearse what you've memorized daily for as long as it takes to feel secure. That won't erase feelings of panic when you're playing in front of a crowd but at least you will keep your wits about you.

    Play for people often before the public performance. Trouble spots always show up even when playing for a couple of friends.

    Relaxation techniques used by other instrumentalists apply to organists as well. Explore them.

    You seem adamant about any pharmaceutical aid. Back in my student days I knew many Juilliard students who took small dosages of propranolol before their recitals. Propranolol inhibits the sympathetic nervous system by blocking nerve receptors which stimulate rapid heart beats. Students swore by it. If you've really got a debilitating problem, you might want to reconsider.
  • I took a "Performance Preparation" class last spring that had a few useful ideas. I was surprised to learn that some people had anxiety far WORSE than I did; in fact, the instructor, early in her career, did not eat the entire day prior to her performances because she was afraid she'd vomit! Knowing that some people suffered this way somehow made it easier for me to confront my own anxiety.

    Although I'm a new performer, I've found a few ideas that have varying degrees of helpfulness. First is, courtesy of the Alexander Technique, finding my proper playing position. I've only met with a A.T. technician once, but I can tell you that if you don't feel your "sit bones" on the bench, you need to adjust your playing position; pivot your hips until you can feel those bones. Your playing position will be much more secure.

    Second, a certain degree of physical fitness will help you recover from the rapid heart rate and cold hands that result from nervousness. Although many performers have these reactions, a fit person will recover more quickly.

    Third, keep telling yourself that you are well-practiced and are perfectly capable of a good performance. (That's as far as I take the self-talk.)

    MOST IMPORTANTLY FOR ME, I absolutely must keep busy by walking around or talking to people up until minutes before the performance. Sitting/"meditation" somehow has quite adverse effects.

    Good luck!
  • First of all, there may be a genuine need for pharmacological intervention, as a last resort. A colleague and studio mate from my University of Michigan days suffered from such horrific performance anxiety that the minute his fingers would make contact with the keys of the recital hall tracker instrument, the shaking of his hands would be translated through the keys and the rattling of the trackers could be heard throughout the hall. He eventually was put on beta blockers and the nervous shaking stopped. He can now perform in recitals without shaking to pieces.

    A practice technique I heard about once to help prepare for the inevitable adrenaline surge and the accompanying shaking and sweating hands is to run up and down a flight of stairs a few times to elevate the heart rate, then go to the instrument and play while your body is in that state. The idea is that the brain and muscles will learn how to respond to the increase in blood flow and adrenaline in performance.
  • Maureen
    Posts: 675
    Some people get a lot of relief just by telling themselves that they're just excited and hopped up on adrenalin.

    (The implication being that they're not afraid; but "I'm not X" is not a very useful way to put things, when you're trying to convince yourself of something.)
  • Thank you all, this is extremely helpful. I guess that, although Catholic, I have enough Presbyterian ancestry to be horrified about consuming any pharmaceutical aid. Yet if such aid would really be helpful and harmless, I might well reconsider it.

    I was particularly interested in Guadalupe's comment about the necessity of keeping busy beforehand. This sounds eminently convincing. Every time I have tried to do the opposite, to sit down and meditate, things get worse instead of better. All I know is, sitting cross-legged, going "Ommmmmmm ...", and essaying the whole "creative visualization" shtick, is for me a sure way to send me into a state of gibbering bellicosity.

    At this particular recital there were a lot of very experienced organists present. The mere knowledge that they were present - and listening intently - undoubtedly alarmed me more than it should have done. I've never been so nervous when playing to an audience consisting exclusively of non-organists.

    As it happens I have an organ exam on Monday of next week, so I hope that I can put into practice at least some of the suggestions kindly provided here. I'm actually glad that this bout of panic (supposing it had to occur at all) occurred during the recital, if only because I might be able to take precautionary measures before the exam.
  • henry
    Posts: 241
    One thing that helps me is to just concentrate on the music coming from the organ, almost as if I'm not even the one playing it - just listen to the beautiful music. This presupposes, of course, that the music is very well prepared. I also read a book called The Inner Game which promotes this idea of listening to the music and blocking the "inner voice" which is always criticizing our work and saying things like "here comes that trouble spot - you're going to mess up!" Beta blockers do work, but they may leave you feeling spacey.
  • francis
    Posts: 10,668
    Does anyone ever play a 'perfect' concert? I would wager not one here. So, I always resign myself to the fact that mistakes will be made. With that state of mind, I am not out to play a perfect performance, but an excellent one. This alters your entire disposition about performing for people. I am out to have fun and truly entertain my audience. Mistakes aren't that important. When quaker women make quilts they purposely build in 'a mistake' because they want to acknowledge that only God is perfect and humans will never be. Embrace your humanity. This allows you to enjoy the music you are creating and truly 'enter the realm' where the music becomes magical, so to speak.

    Also, I prepare like crazy, but the day before the concert, I quit practicing. If you don't know it then, you will probably psyche yourself out trying to iron the last wrinkle out of your playing. Forget it! When I wake up, I think, 'tomorrow I am going to give a great concert' and 'I am going to play my best because this is the one that counts for my audience'. You will be amazed at the difference these attitudes can make in the outcome.

    I also put my tux on and go into the choir room and just play scales an hour before the concert. It puts me in 'the zone'. This is akin to an athlete warming up before the race.

    I would never resort to drugs. It seems that would be a spiral downward because you are then not the master of your own person. Prayer is much more important.

    Most of all, enjoy the beauty that you bring to the world through the music you make for God, others and yourself.
  • I remember Artur Rubinstein being asked at a master class, "Maestro, how do you handle wrong notes?" His reply was,
    "I have reached the age where I don't worry so much about the wrong notes; but I am very concerned about the music
    that comes between them."
  • All the advice given here is superb. There is no panacea for this bette noir of all who perform. Pavarotti once said that Every time he had to go on stage he battled incessant and potent inner voices of discouragement. None of us (well, very few of us) are immune. There are times when a performance (liturgical or otherwise) goes like magic, and other times when one is siezed by such panic that he wonders how he got through it with a wrong note here and there. One of my wise teachers told me that it isn't the wrong note, but what you do with it that counts. Learn improvisation. Realising that music is a category of thought, there is nothing to compare with knowing the entire score at a slow intellectually engaged pace and being able to play it thus enjoyably many times over: you would be surprised how it will come back to you as you perform (sometimes as if you were performing in slow motion or 'out of body'). Never take any part of a piece for granted (especially those parts that never give you trouble!). Never cram. As was said above, if you don't know it the day before don't expect a miracle. And, don't expect not to be nervous. Just know the music the way you know your name. Finally, Francis' advice to pray (with confident trust) is sterling.
  • Further pieces of very helpful advice! Hearty gratitude to all who've proffered counsel. I certainly have no intention of last-minute cramming, which has invariably been as useless for me as it is, I imagine, for most people who attempt it. And certainly I intend to keep staying off medicaments if I can possibly do so.

    The Pavarotti citation particularly interests me. (Does anyone know, BTW, if it's true that he couldn't actually read music? I've heard this said about him, but he himself disputed the allegation. It's certainly true about Mirella Freni, as she herself admitted.)

    That stage fright in my own case must somehow be connected with the mechanics of organ-playing - and in particular with the exigencies of pedal-work - is indicated by the fact that public speaking, which millions of people regard as their Number One fear in life, holds no terrors at all for me. Before Thursday's concert, I was able to give a short speech, with neither written notes nor any stumbles over words.

    Anyhow, many thanks again to all who wrote in. Before Internet fora like this one came along I would have been desperately pursuing recommendations for days or weeks.
  • As said above, no one is immune from stage fright. In my grad school days I would almost weekly stand in line for cheap tickets at Boston's Symphony Hall and on some occasions I was able to get stage seating. At that distance you learn that even the legends have shaking hands. (Rudolf Serkin seemed to struggle with this more than others.) The only famous artist I ever heard who actually let his nerves get the best of his performance however was Clifford Curzon (in Brahms 2nd piano concerto). For organists of course the acid test is Bach's trio sonatas. Panic simply cannot be in the mix.
  • I didn't know about Mirella Freni, nor Pavarotti, but was told many years ago that Caruso could not read music and learned everything by rote. Singers, actually, are typically among the worst of readers, and a great many cannot even sight sing without an instrument to help them out.
  • Dan, or is it Don Green has a book that my masterclass read called "Performance Success", it helped me out. Also doing some form of exercise before the recital is great, even if it is doing twenty jumpingjacks a few minutes before you play. I try not to think of what I'm doing before I go out because it freaks me out. Rather, in the words of my professor, treat a recital as you would a dinner party with some good friends. The repertoire is the main course and you can't wait to share this food with them. This totally helped me get through the anxiety before my junior recital and excites me about giving a senior recital next spring.
  • francis
    Posts: 10,668
    lol MJO... the Bach trio sonatas... I 'stumbeld' on the e minor 3rd movement on my junior recital... and I still recall it as vivid as my face in a mirror to this day. However, I had the hutzpa to keep on "playing 'bach' into reality".

    Which brings me to another really excellent practical suggestion:

    Circle the passages you struggle with. Copy them on the copy machine. Put them on one sheet of paper, and then fold it up and put it in your top pocket. Every three hours pull it out and examine it with your mind. Then "play" each part separately on a desk or table top (or a piano or even just a keyboard if one is around), RH, LH and then Ped. Then do RH with LH, then RH with Ped, then LH with Ped, then all together. Only work the difficult passages... nothing else.

    How do you eat an elephant?

    (for the answer, read backwards)

    emit a ta etib eno
  • I've never done this, but have often thought it would be the zenith of knowing a piece - i.e., to be able to write it down in manuscript form from memory. Actually doing this, I think, would have an astonishing effect on performance.
  • R J Stove, a follow-up to my suggestion:

    If you're a terrific multi-tasker, simply having a conversation with one person before your performance IS NOT ENOUGH TO DISTRACT THE MIND. If there's a group of people you can engage (such as greeting your audience as they arrive for the concert), all the better.

    Regarding making mistakes, here's something we all know that bears repeating: Most mistakes are barely noticed and easily forgiven by the audience, as long as the rhythmic activity is maintained. Yes, there are always those few snotty organists that are very judgmental; pay them no heed.
  • Voce
    Posts: 16
    Here is an article from the New York Times on the spiralling use of propanolol among professional musicians:
    http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/20/arts/20iht-jitters.html
  • Richard MixRichard Mix
    Posts: 2,768
    >That stage fright in my own case must somehow be connected with the mechanics ... is indicated by the fact that public speaking... holds no terrors at all for me.

    I too find stage frights are not interchangable: in my case saying my name can be the most dangerous part of a singing audition. But learning to play organ after a career as a cellist also felt like going back to square one in terms of jitters, and hymn playing is a different variety of anxiety than playing literature. The familiarity of repeated experience seems to be our friend, and small things can throw one: I saw a big name go to pieces in a museum recital because someone was walking at the back of the room, and wondered how that could ever happen to an organist of all people. Then I remembered the high and remote loft of his church.

    I just gave a recital of Cabezon, Byrd et al tonight, and as usual there was a hump between the blind concentration of the first pieces and the second wind of the last half. If you're lucky that's where the audience's concentration flags too. ;-) SInce I was doing some alternatim singing, my well-established vocal routine was an effective distraction beforehand.

    As for the alleged perils of mellowness, I can only say that we have to love the music to put ourselves through this, and our own enjoyment of preparation and performance is probably a better conscience and guarantee for the audience than our critical thinking can be. And making beautiful mistakes is a challenge in itself.
  • Oh, indeed! A beautiful mistake is the only kind ever to make! They require imagination and panache! The ugly ones are soooo pointless.
  • francis
    Posts: 10,668
    I practice my beautiful mistakes over and over to make sure I can play them perfectly every time.
  • My best recent mistake on a recital was pushing the wrong piston (with its trumpet) about eight measures into Howells' Psalm Prelude No. 1 on the psalm, 'Lo, the poor man crieth'. Actually I had not practiced this mistake, but it was really a most effective surprise that lasted about 1/2 a beat. It was, in a word, truly an outstanding moment in this performance, the remainder of which was probably more what Howells had in mind.
  • Allow me to share my most melodious mistake: I was playing a Bach piece for my jury when I played a "bonus" note. My organ teacher remarked later that it sounded very nice and wondered why Bach hadn't written it that way! (And no - my teacher is not generous with compliments.)
  • RagueneauRagueneau
    Posts: 2,592
    Fr. Valentine Young, OFM, told me what his organ teacher at the Seminary told him more than fifty years ago:

    "As an organist, always remember the following: you can play 1,000 notes correctly and just one note wrong, and the people are always going to remember that wrong note. Pay them no mind."