I have to confess something. A long, long time ago I lost a dear chamber music ensemble because of my bad behavior. I could go off the rails uncontrollably and get on my colleagues’ nerves when I didn’t think it was good enough. When we were under time pressure. And when I felt that they weren’t getting the most out of it or wanted to keep things too cozy during rehearsals. One day the ensemble fell apart, and I was told that it was my fault. That was incredibly confronting.
In my defense: I was extremely overloaded during that period. I was doing the Alexander Technique training, which didn’t immediately lead to me becoming as zen as a saint, on the contrary. I was constantly tired and overworked. I had an unhealthy love life with a lot of pain and sorrow. And I played with other ensembles and orchestras where the culture of interaction was so… well, like what the media are talking about now. So I didn’t know any better. ‘No pain no gain’. ‘You have to push through it’. And it is never good enough anyway. Never.
Over the years I have struggled with my demanding behavior. I have come to see that it is not only harmful to others, but especially to myself. And I have discovered that if you look at yourself and others with gentleness and kindness, with humor, the music will sound so much better. Because hardly anyone throws their hat at it. We all love our profession and music too much for that. But we are stuck in a system. We think en masse that we have to violate ourselves (and each other) to become better, because that is the only way we know. Because our entire society is geared towards moving up through ‘doing your best’ and ‘working hard’.
And yet, dear friends, there is an alternative. You do not have to let go of your ideal image of how it should sound: cherish it, let it come to life in you. But if you try hard and start cursing at yourself internally for every mistake, you trigger an enormous stress reaction in your body, with the associated tension in exactly those places where you don’t want it. Your breathing gets stuck, your body tenses up. That doesn’t sound any better. And this also happens when someone else curses at you. But that’s beside the point. Or no, not aside. No, that’s essential. Because that’s what we need to think about. As teachers, as conductors, as colleagues, as artists. What the consequences are of how we treat each other. Is this really the way to get the best out of ourselves and each other?
Look. The Alexander technique can help with all of this. Because it’s not about doing more, but about doing less. Letting go of unnecessary ‘doing’ in your body and mind. Unlearning patterns of too much tension – and tension-creating thoughts. And all of that by simply stopping for a moment. Just try it: breathe out for a moment. Phew. Listen to the silence for a moment, let your face soften, your eyes. Think of a soft little rabbit. Let go of your neck and shoulders. Breathe again. Pause for a moment. And then… something beautiful can just come your way. Effortlessly.
