I have a friend from my college days that is/was such a skilled sight reader that he used to intimidate the hell out of me. Whatever skill I had as a musician would evaporate when he showed up. Naturally, I enjoyed his company. (And still do, though since he’s in Maine, it’s hard to come by.) But he and his wife are gifted intellectually in general. It was, and is, as a writer that I could hold my own with these people. Over the years, I’ve yanked my sight reading skills up to the point where I can sit down with Dan and hold my own in the four hand literature. Also, we’ve tried reading stuff that’s hard for both of us. It’s delicious when he breaks down and says “man, it’s really hard to pull this off the page!”

Self confidence and self image are tied up together with performance. Relaxation is required to really do anything well, particularly tasks of manual dexterity. (Billiards, music, marksmanship, etc.) It gets better, though, because my gifted friend is also a fair master of the pithy epigram. He doesn’t so much create them as store them up and emit them at just the right time. Once upon a time, talking about teaching, he uncorked the following gem: “it comes down to knowledge of subject and force of personality.” I usually feel that I have a pretty good grip on the subject matter (not always…just more often). I’ve worked more on the force of personality part. ‘Working on it’ (directly) doesn’t usually work. It takes place in the realm of self improvement in general.

Part of it is getting up enough gumption that you don’t fall apart when you goof up. Everyone makes mistakes. Not all mistakes result in teachable moments, particularly ones captured live by mikes. The perfectionist has it very rough. There is much more self overcoming to do than if you are willing to cut yourself some slack.

One time Dan uncorked this one: “one hand, ten fingers.” On the surface of it, it’s Zen gibberish. When playing complicated contrapuntal music (anything that presupposes equal dexterity of all fingers on both hands), any finger on either hand must be relied upon to do its job. “Right note at the right time.” Also, either hand can carry the through line. Fingers from the left hand must pick up lines that come down from the treble, particularly in a tenor part. The trick is to try to keep the illusion that the piano is singing. It’s not about tone so much as about line.

While others have picked up on the virtue of learning from mistakes and allowing oneself to make them without going into a self destructive tailspin, I’m trying to articulate an even subtler palimpsest of the topic. Mastery requires flexibility. (See, Mr. Dan, I can do it too!) You’ve trained all your “fingers.” You’re fearless. Jam! When in the clear, run with the ball.