Duck, duck, duck...goose

On paper, I've been playing the harp for 22 years. I'm continually amazed, though, by the process that I go through to learn a new piece, which seems to have changed very little since the beginning. The last couple of weeks (really since the middle of July) have had a rapid turnover for me in terms of learning new pieces quickly, so I've had a lot of time to reflect on my own cognitive limitations. There seems to be a rather long initial period with a new piece when I anticipate feeling comfortable, but haven't quite gotten there. It feels a little like playing duck duck goose.

Day one: Idiocy (duck). After making the physical part (which is an art in and of itself, allowing for the possibility of page turns while still attempting to play) I sit down tenuously at the harp. The act of transferring rhythm from page to brain to finger is a little like reading a language that one is not quite fluent in. Inevitably, this is the most frustrating period of time. One would think that it would get easier after a couple of years practicing everyday for at least a couple of hours, but for me, no.

Day two: Idiocy (duck) and a slice of self-deprecation. At this point, instead of banging away fruitlessly, I try not to look at what the finished product needs to be, but rather take it down to the smallest package possible. This means measure by measure, slowly, possibly beat by beat, trying to both engender muscle memory, and ensure that the brain will not freak out while looking at embedded poly-rhythms or other such boggling items. While this is frustrating, there is some small measure of pride in the idea of 'getting it right'. This is what we mean by practice.

Day Three: Idiocy (duck) a little faster. Still in the throes of muscle memory, I try, I often fail to speed things up. As a rather elderly teacher once told me, though, "You have to put the wheels on the car before you can drive it. Take it slow." (She then took it upon herself to change a pedal felt, a process which involved her 4'2", 86 year-old frame tipping the 6'+, 85 lb. harp on its column and getting down on her knees to manually re-sew the felt...Needless to say, it was a memorable lesson.)

Day four, day five, day six: Continued idiocy (duck, duck, duck), but with a hint of stubbornness. I have to keep believing, having done this before, that there will be some payoff after hitting against a brick wall for days. To get there, though, requires something that most people would recognize as pig-headedness. Maybe we, as musicians, are just too slow to that insight.

Day Seven: Enlightenment. (Goose!).
I sit down, I begin to read rhythms-They feel natural, like a sentence, like many sentences, I feel less like a dolt, more like a musician. At this point, things come quickly and I'm finally ready to start rehearsal with the group...(duck, duck, duck, collectively)