Taking the Stage

With the advent of the holiday season, I've spent quite a bit of time performing in recent weeks. Some of the settings where I performed were comfortable and familiar, and some were quite new and different. Every time I perform in front of an audience I am reminded of the journey I have been on for the past eleven years while learning to play piano, and I can see both how far I have come and how far I have yet to go.

When I first started playing piano, even just thinking about performing for an audience made my heart beat faster (and not in a good way). I am fairly comfortable in public speaking settings and have been for many years, but playing an instrument is an entirely different experience. The only way I've been able to overcome the fear and anxiety that still plague me to some degree is to force myself to perform in public settings often. Whether or not my performance meets my high standards, I can learn something from each attempt: how to play on different instruments in different settings, how to roll with the punches, how to interact with different audiences, how to prepare for the next performance and how to keep my thoughts from sabotaging my current one. In this blog entry I'm going to share some tips that have helped make my performances more successful. I've divided my comments into three sections: preparing (before the show), performing (in the moment), and evaluating (after the show).

PREPARING

Most of what makes a show successful happens long before the show itself. I can't emphasize enough how important it is to select the right song arrangements to perform. There have been many times when I chose a particular arrangement because of its beautiful sound, only to have things go wrong during a performance in spite of my many, many hours of practice. Knowing what is and isn't within my grasp is something I've had to learn the hard way. There are many songs that I can play well when I am in the comfort of my own home, but in a performance situation everything changes. Instead of selecting pieces that are almost--but not quite--out of reach, I have learned that it can take weeks, months or years to perfect certain songs and that trying to publicly perform arrangements that are on the very edge of my playing ability is usually a very bad idea.

When preparing for a performance I like to start by exploring my various song options. It's good to have a mix of familiar favorites as well as some songs that aren't quite as familiar and even a few brand new songs to avoid stagnation. I then create an initial list of songs and play through each of them while timing them with a stopwatch. I then try to select more songs than I will actually need for the performance so that I can remove the hardest ones from the list in the final days before the concert if I don't feel like I'm quite ready to perform them.

Once I have a rough set list in place, I then play through all of the songs again to get a feel for them and how they will sound when played in sequential order. I make adjustments to the sequence as needed, then I start working on each song individually, playing it over and over again until I can get through it without any mistakes at least once. I continue moving through my list a song at a time in this same fashion until I get to the point where I can play them all correctly on my first, second or third attempt. Then I go back to playing through the whole list, repeatedly going through the set exactly as I will when I'm performing it. During this phase I like to envision the venue where I will be playing and pretend I have an audience.

When a performance is only a few days away, the songs that I can't play "cold" (making few or no mistakes on my first try) will be cut from the final set list. On the day of the actual performance I allow myself to play through the set list just once, and I do it at the last possible minute so that I can arrive at my performance location warmed up and ready to play.

PERFORMING

I always start by playing something very comfortable and familiar, yet also appealing so that I can build on that initial success throughout the performance. I like to end with a comfortable (usually upbeat) song as well.

I've occasionally seen quotes that say something like, "The past is in the past and the future hasn't happened; the present is all we have." I'm still not entirely sure how those quotes relate to life, although I sense there is great truth there. However, when it comes to playing piano I've noticed that my thoughts while I am in the act of playing can work for or against me.

If I make a small mistake, whether or not I recover, dwelling on that mistake is ALWAYS a bad idea. The past is in the past -- I can't fix it, so why waste a single second worrying about it? There are still more notes to play, and that's what matters now.

There are times when my thoughts just drift to random things while I'm performing, like what I had for lunch that day or what a friend said to me in a conversation last week. It's nice to know certain songs so well that I can play them even on "autopilot," without any conscious thought. But sometimes my autopilot malfunctions, and by being present and keeping my thoughts focused on what I am doing I can be prepared for the unexpected. Another challenge I sometimes face while performing a piece is thinking/worrying about how the audience is feeling/reacting to my performance. The time to think about my audience is between songs. In the middle of a piece I need to stay focused on the task at hand.

And the future hasn't happened, so there's no need to start worrying about a page turn when it's still 20 measures away. If I do that, I'm wasting mental cycles that should be used to make sure I'm playing my current measure correctly. It's okay and even a good idea to look a little ahead and prepare for section transitions, page turns, etc. But anything that isn't on the immediate horizon should be disregarded, including anticipated applause at the end of a successful rendition. Thinking about that can prevent me from focusing on the notes I need to play right now! 

EVALUATING

On rare occasions I have had friends film my performances, and I have watched those videos to see if my own assessment of how I did mirrors objective reality. There's no better way to decide if a performance meets my own high standards than seeing it as if I'm in the audience. I don't always like what I see and hear, but I understand the importance of forgiving mistakes and not allowing them to erode my confidence. Even if a performance wasn't filmed, as long as the audience was appreciative and kind (and, even better, willing to invite me back) then I can only assume I at least did a "good enough" job.

Perhaps someday I will such a skilled musician that nervousness and mistakes will both be the farthest things from my mind when I'm performing. But at the moment they are a very real and very challenging part of every performance. The only way to improve is to keep trying, though, so if my last performance wasn't as good as I wanted then I can work harder to make sure that my next one is.

My Songwriting/Composing/Arranging Process

My composing/arranging process has continued to evolve over the years and I recently had a friend inquire about how to compose and arrange songs, so I thought I'd answer her question via a blog entry that others can read as well. I have experience composing songs with lyrics as well as instrumental works, and I will address both types of music here.

When I first started composing music there were two things that I found quite difficult (well, more than two but I'm only going to talk about two here). The first was the lack of fluidity that is a necessary part of the composing process. I didn't know how to capture musical ideas quickly in a way that also allowed me to play them again. For example, I could play a song while recording it with my iPhone but then when I listened to it again I could easily duplicate the melody but not the harmony. The second problem was knowing where to go next. I would be in the middle of writing what I felt was a great song and suddenly I'd finish a section and just have no idea what I wanted to do next.

It took some time, but eventually I began to find solutions to these problems. It helped a lot to just use a lead sheet format for notation at first and put the basic structure of a song in place (words, chords, melody). For vocal songs I always wrote the words first, and this provided a map for the music. For instrumental songs I originally just wrote the melody notes I was playing all as quarter notes and added chord symbols. Then I created a set of section by section audio recordings so I could listen to them later and figure out the rhythm. That allowed me to capture ideas quickly while composing, but it was still pretty difficult to figure out how to play sections of a song - especially after I hadn't worked on it for several weeks or months, as sometimes was the case. Later I started creating "placeholder" words for my original instrumental songs, or for introductions and transition parts. Seeing the words gave me a way to store the melody associated with those words in my brain (and I think it made my melodies more lyrical). The words I wrote could have been song lyrics, but I didn't refine them or spend a lot of time on them the way I would with actual song lyrics. I just made sure they had meter and rhyme and didn't worry about meaning, since they were just used as a mnemonic device to help me remember the melody. Once I figured out the melody to a section with placeholder words I would play it over and over again, and I'd also do an audio recording using the Voice Memos app on my phone just in case I somehow forgot it in spite of my efforts to memorize it. Most of the time I never needed to listen to that recording because having words was enough to help me remember the rhythm of the quarter notes I was looking at (that I hadn't bothered to turn into notes containing their actual rhythmic values). At that point I just used a pencil and a notebook with lined staff paper that I bought at music store for $3, and my written music was divided into phrases but not yet divided into measures (I hadn't even applied a time signature). I probably am just a slow learner, but for some reason taking as much time as it would require to write out the actual rhythms made the composition process very frustrating for me. It was kind of like saying, "Play the piano, which is fun, but stop every 30 seconds or so to do something that is NOT very fun and takes like 10 minutes. Oh and also if you have a really complex rhythm you probably won't notate it right anyway."

Over the years I continued to improve my site reading skills, and I learned how to transcribe piano music just by listening to it -- which was a very time-consuming process that taught me how to more accurately notate rhythms. I also purchased an iPad and in combination with a very useful app called Notion ($10 on the Apple store) I was able to notate music with a tool that could then play it back for me instead of just putting it on paper and hoping it was right. That way I was able to get instant aural feedback to tell me if I had correctly captured the musical idea I was trying to notate. It was a game changer for me, since I use my ear as a guide for much of my composing. In addition, I had purchased an electronic keyboard ($200) and a digital audio workstation program called Reaper ($60). This allowed me to play music in midi format and have it captured on a piano roll. In the past I had tried playing midi music directly into Sibelius ($400) with very disappointing results. Because I don't play like a robot, the software notated exactly what I played. If I paused a little before the downbeat on a particular measure, it would notate a 64th or 32nd rest and then if I held that note for the correct amount of beats at the end of that same measure it would have me crossing over into the next measure with a slur and a 64th or 32nd rest. Basically, it turned my music into uninterpretable garbage -- which really wasn't what I wanted. The piano roll, however, made a lot more sense to me (see example below):

By looking at the piano roll I knew exactly which notes I had played while recording and I could easily just listen to what I had recorded while watching the piano roll to identify the pitch and length of each note. It was MUCH better than having to listen to an audio recording and duplicate each sound with no visual assistance.

I wrote my first songs (sometimes on guitar and sometimes on piano) by coming up with a chord progression and then "finding" a melody that fit the chords, but later I tried composing melodies alone and then adding chords to them. This, in my opinion, produced a much better result as harmony became a slave to the more important element of melody rather than the other way around. For some reason I found it easier to sing the melody than to play it on piano, because when I played a melody on the piano I tended to follow familiar fingering patterns and get stuck in a rut. So I would sing a melody phrase by phrase into my recording device as I experimented with different vocal ideas. After I had sung all of the unique parts of the song (verse, chorus, bridge, etc.) I would then listen to it and notate the melody, adding chords to it afterwards. Since I am an imperfect vocalist, sometimes I found that my pitch would slide from one part of the song to the next. Usually I would fix this by keeping the song in the same key, but occasionally an accidental key change sounded okay so I left it in the final product. Finding the right chords to add to a melody requires a bit of music theory knowledge, such as knowing what key you are in and knowing the primary (I, IV, V, iv) chords for that key. It is also essential to know the various types of chord qualities (major, minor, dominant seventh, major seventh, augmented, etc.) and extensions (which are usually not essential at this stage of the composing process unless you are creating jazz music). It is also helpful to understand how chord functions work. For example. the IV and V7 chords lead back to the I chord, but the V7 chord leads more strongly than the IV chord. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here to read one of my previous blog entries about basic harmony.) And it's helpful to have a bit of knowledge about chord substitution to create a more unique and varied sound. For example, because the C chord and Am chord share two notes (C and E), these chords can sometimes be interchangeable. C and Em share the E and G notes and these chords are similarly interchangeable in certain cases. It is even possible to substitute a chord with something that isn't part of the primary key to create a unique harmonic effect.

When I first started writing music I kept it pretty much in the same key, as modulations were more advanced than my limited music theory knowledge. However, I studied the circle of fifths to learn how to make some key transitions and later I learned about pivot chords. Using a pivot chord, for example, I could be playing in the key of C and after playing the C chord I could play a Cm chord and the I was in the key of Eb. I also practiced various other key modulation techniques, sometimes using published sheet music as a guide.

Another thing that helped improve my songwriting/arranging/composing skills was a knowledge of structure (verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus is one example). In instrumental music the "rules" of structure are a little different than in songs with vocals, but it's still important to follow some kind of structure with repeating patterns to hold the song together. At first glance this might not seem very important, but if you listen to an instrumental hit song from any genre (classical, jazz, pop, new age, etc.) you will be able to hear the form of the song and identify repeating sections. Repetition and motif variation are absolutely essential to effective instrumental music composing and arranging. As a general rule, though, I try to avoid EXACT repetition and always try to change something when a particular section is repeated in an instrumental work. It may be something as subtle as a change in volume or moving from one register to another, but SOMETHING has to be different - otherwise I'm are wasting my listener's time. Modern listeners have access to recorded versions of songs that they can play on demand and simply don't have the patience that listeners in the era before recording technology was invented might have had. Song structure is often the answer to the problem of wondering "where to go" with a song. When I got done writing my first section, I labeled it as the verse or chorus and then proceeded to create another section, labeled that one, decided if I wanted to repeat something I had previously written or composed a bridge of some kind, then threw it together and listened to the end result. If it was only 56 seconds long (as was often the case when I first started writing songs) then I started thinking of strategies that I could use to extend the sections and/or add new sections that still fit within the song structure (for example, and intro or outro or pre-chorus or second bridge). Sometimes I've written two different short songs and, unsure how to proceed with the composition, I've set them aside only to realize later that if I put the two songs together in a creative way then I was able to create a full-length song. Sometimes the only thing I could do was set a song aside for a while and continue to improve my general music skills. When I came back to it 5 months later I was often surprised by the new ideas and skills I was able to bring to the composition process.

I recently released my first album. It's called Christmas Notes and is available on iTunes, Spotify, Amazon and Bandcamp. It took me about 4 months to arrange all 12 songs. Because I am so familiar with these Christmas tunes and have been hearing them my whole life, when I began arranging them I was able to play the melodies without any music in front of me. I was then able to experiment with the left-hand chords to get the harmonic texture that I wanted, and for the first several songs I simply wrote the chords above the lyrics so I'd remember them. Then I used an app called Notion on my iPad to write down the melodies and chords for each song, adding intros, transitions, conclusions, etc. I also created new melodies and wove them into the existing melodies in various ways. Sometimes my new melodies were based on the same harmonic chord pattern as the original song (a common jazz improvisation technique) and sometimes they featured completely new harmonic structures and time signature and/or key changes. After a while I skipped the lyric/chord process altogether and just started using Notion from the beginning to notate the melody and chords. I added a bass clef line to my music but I left most of the measures blank (which allowed me to later fill in those parts as I played the song and determined what notes I liked best). However, if there was something in particular that I really wanted to do a certain way with my left hand (such as a "walking" bass line or a chord inversion) I would notate that part of the bass clef and follow it. In some of the songs I also added fills that I never really wrote out -- I just played them by ear during the recording process. The result of this was that I knew essentially what notes to play but also had the creative freedom to make adjustments to the songs along the way rather than notating them in a more precise manner (which might have kept me from more fully developing them prior to recording them).

As strange as it might sound, mistakes play an important role in my composition process. As I'm playing along and make a mistake I might discover that I like the mistake I made better than what I had originally written and I can make adjustments accordingly. (An example of this is playing a note that is NEAR the actual note I wanted to play and then moving up or down to the note I originally intended; such a movement can create a very pleasing effect.)

I'm currently working on my second album and am going to be adding parts for instruments other than piano. This has required adding an additional step to my composing and arranging process. I've arranged one song so far and am working on my second. For the first song I made a piano arrangement including the melody and chords (similar to what I did for my Christmas album), then I printed sheet music and marked up the parts I wanted the piano to play and which parts I wanted the other instrument to play (and which parts would feature both instruments together). After that I downloaded the FL Studio app ($20) from the Apple Store. I painstakingly entered the notes from my lead sheet into FL studio and added a "placeholder" chord accompaniment. Then I went section by section whenever there was a duet featuring both instruments and experimented with potential harmony notes by using the virtual keyboard included in the app (while listening to the other instrument and placeholder chord accompaniment). This allowed me to use my ear to create more flowing harmonies than I would have been able to do by using my knowledge of music theory alone. Which brings up an important point: it's great to be an expert in music theory, but that will only help with the "craft" part of composing and arranging. When it comes to the more artistic elements, I ultimately let my ear be my guide. I've been listening to music your whole life and I know what is and isn't good when I hear it.

I'm sure there are much better and more efficient ways to compose than the ones I have been using, and I have no doubt that I will eventually discover them. However, I am not worried about efficiency at the moment. I'm composing songs, I'm learning and growing, and that's what really matters to me.

Music Notation

Ever since I started playing piano I have had a love-hate relationship with music notation, also known as "standard notation." On the one hand it is remarkable that a system for capturing and reproducing sound was developed long before the invention of recording technology, and without that system it is difficult to imagine how many of our favorite tunes would have been forgotten or changed beyond recognition. On the other hand it can at times be quite maddening both to play and to compose in a written language that isn't sound itself, but is instead a sometimes quite cryptic attempt to visually represent sound. At least, that's the way it seems to those who are new to the world of playing an instrument. It's almost like you are facing TWO monumental tasks instead of one: learning to speak the language of sound using your instrument of choice--which requires precisely synchronized body movements--and also learning to interpret the language of written notes.

When I was young I played melodies on the piano by rote memorization and by ear, but I also learned a few of the basics about reading music. I memorized the phrase "Every Good Boy Does Fine" to help me know how to play notes on the lines of the treble clef, and of course "FACE" helped me learn how to play notes on the spaces. I even learned a few chords such as C, F and G7 that allowed me to play with both hands simultaneously, but the bass clef eluded me and I wasn't very fast at reading the treble clef and so had to rely on a lot of memorization as well as listening to know if I was playing the right notes. This worked well for melodies, which stand out from the rest of the music, but not so well for harmonies. But even melodies were sometimes difficult for me. I remember learning to play The Star-Spangled Banner and discovering after I had practiced it several times that I had mistakenly started on the wrong note and therefore every other note was different from what was written on the page (although I was playing it "correctly" -- just in a different key). I had thought I was reading music but in truth I was simply playing by ear.

When I decided to learn to play the piano as an adult, I wanted to do it "right." In other words, I wanted to learn to play notes with both my right and left hands exactly as they were written. The ability I wanted most was to be able to open any music book and play beautifully, even if I had never before seen or heard the music. I didn't realize at the time just how lofty that goal was. For two years I practiced religiously, attended lessons regularly and did everything I felt I needed to do in order to achieve my desired result. But I found myself growing increasingly frustrated. Learning to play from written notes was quite difficult, and because I had been listening to "real" music my whole life I knew how vast the differences were between my playing and the playing of pianists I admired such as David Lanz, Paul Cardall and David Nevue. (As an aside, I have since learned that all three of those artists do not use standard notation when composing and playing). I also struggled with performance anxiety, which prevented me from successfully playing even pieces I knew well while others were listening. I came dangerously close to giving up altogether at that time, and if it hadn't been for my daughter asking me to play piano for her each night as she went to sleep and the arrival of someone I later nicknamed my "zen" piano teacher, I never would have learned to enjoy something that is now one of the richest and best parts of my life.

I was at a Jon Schmidt piano concert one night when, at the end of the concert, I walked into the lobby and heard someone playing piano every bit as well as Jon Schmidt had on stage. Furthermore, I recognized him--although I couldn't place him (I later realized that he had been a fellow member of a public speaking organization). I walked up and began a conversation, during which he continued to play with extraordinary skill without any music in front him. (I was and still am pretty impressed that he was able to play and talk to me at the same time.) He mentioned that he taught piano lessons, and we exchanged phone numbers and met for our first lesson the following week. Instead of the usual 30 minute lesson, this one lasted 3 hours. I began by playing a piece of music I knew quite well, but I was nervous and made several mistakes. When I finished playing he said to me, "I think you're better than that." I responded that I really wasn't, and that's when he told me that I needed to learn to see beyond the notes. At the time I had no idea what he meant, but I have since come to understand that music is ultimately an aural experience--not a written one. The particular tool that I use as a musician to express myself on my instrument is irrelevant. What matters is that I am able to create sounds that bring me pleasure. He then proceeded to show me several patterns and techniques involving chords that I have continued to use for the last decade. But more than that he helped build my confidence. I had, without realizing it, been holding onto a subconscious belief that I would never truly be a successful musician because I had learned to play later in life instead of starting lessons as a child. He identified and challenged that belief, and at the end of my first lesson he told me to go home and write a song. I told him I didn't know how to write a song, and he told me to do it anyway. So I did, and I was as surprised as anyone to discover that I had that ability. He also taught me to improvise, which was enjoyable for its own sake and also provided a foundation for creating better compositions. Our next few lessons went much the same way, with me continuing to express my negative views about what I could and couldn't do and what was and wasn't possible. He challenged my distorted assumptions and helped me push past my self-imposed mental limits, giving me a gift that I will never be able to repay and helping me achieve significantly better results. I was letting go of my fear and learning to overcome negative thinking and limiting beliefs not just at the piano but in every area of my life. We had two more lessons like that, and then a few shorter lessons before our paths diverged. But the positive impact he had on my life was permanent.

After that, in addition to studying the new techniques I had learned, I continued to study note reading (sometimes generically referred to as "classical" technique whether it's applied to classical or other types of music). Written notes are extremely useful and I certainly didn't want to be musically illiterate. I also wanted to be able to communicate with other musicians. But I began to play most of my music with lead sheets, which only contain the melody and chord symbols for a piece of music. It's up to me as the musician to decide exactly how I want to play the left hand part. Knowing that a particular measure should be harmonized with a G chord, for example, tells me that any G, B or D note on the piano has the potential to sound good with the melody. Experience and practice helped me understand which combinations sounded best, and I slowly developed the ability to decide in the moment exactly how to execute a particular harmony rather than having to know in advance the exact keys to press. This meant that, while my performance of a particular song was often quite similar to previous performances of that song, I had the freedom to innovate and create new sounds as my abilities and tastes allowed instead of being forced to play a piece exactly the same way every single time I played it. For some, this might sound like a disadvantage. For me, it's a clear advantage and helped stave off the boredom I might have experienced with the piano if my creative energies couldn't have been put to use. I also saved a lot of money music, because all I really needed was a basic outline and I could figure out the rest. Using lead sheets to play music was a little bit like being presented with a coloring book page. It contained a bare outline and I could choose exactly how to turn it into a beautiful work of art (and yes, sometimes I colored outside the lines!) While standard notation indicates the exact notes that should be played, lead sheets indicate a multiplicity of potential notes and leaves it to the musician to decide which ones sound best. Using this new style of playing also made a trip to the music store, which had once been overwhelming because of the amount of music I couldn't play, a joyful experience.

There are certain types of music (classical music in particular, as well as some choral and new age music) for which chords and lead sheets might not be ideal, and which might not allow an artist to create a satisfying sound that is reminiscent of the original without significant practice and/or harmony part memorization. Composers and arrangers of such music might be interested in studying counterpoint, but for pop, jazz, Christmas, religious and folk music using chords for harmonization can be an effective and enjoyable approach. It can allow new musicians to play music they couldn't play before and sound a lot better than they would if they used simplified standard notation, and it can allow professionals the creative freedom to disconnect from the notes and focus on expression.

I've noticed in my music teaching experience that very few competent note readers are interested in learning to play with chords, as this would require them to go back to the basics and learn completely foreign techniques. This effort doesn't seem necessary or worthwhile when simply continuing to rely on already acquired note reading skills is so effortless. However, there are three reasons I encourage everyone who has attained note reading competence to learn to play with lead sheets. The first is that it will significantly increase their knowledge of music theory and help them understand how the music they are playing was made. The second is that it will allow them to create and/or arrange their own repertoire. The third is that it can be a great fallback when faced with an incredibly daunting piece of music. Two of my aunts have been playing piano their whole lives, and one of them is also an exceptional organist. Every year we gather around the piano as a family to sing Christmas carols. There is a particular arrangement of "White Christmas" that my grandpa loves to hear, but the harmony part is so complex that they simply can't play it in spite of their years of experience. However, because it has chord symbols I am able to get through it with little effort.

As an added bonus, lead sheets take up significantly less space in music books than full arrangements, which explains how publishers of "fake books" are sometimes able to fit 1200 songs into a single volume.

I once thought that there was only one way to play piano, but I have since discovered that "right" is a relative term. Now I see the value in having multiple tools in my toolbox and in being able to use the right one for the right job. My advice to someone who wants to learn to play piano and isn't sure which notation system to focus on is to learn them both, emphasizing one or the other more heavily over time as musical preferences, performing situation and developing abilities allow.

Making My First Album

Last week I walked into a music studio and walked out with my first completed album of solo piano Christmas music. It was the culmination of a journey that began six years ago, when I attempted to do the same thing but failed.

In 2008 I made a goal to create an album of original new age piano music. I was planning to record, mix and master the album in my home studio but ran into some with timing on a particularly difficult song that I had composed by ear. So I scheduled a few hours with a sound engineer at a local studio and he helped me create a great track. Unfortunately, it cost about $250 for that one song -- and when I did the math I realized I didn't have enough money for a complete album, so I gave up the dream (at least for the time being).

Five years later my company decided to pay an unexpected Thanksgiving bonus. I used the money to purchase an electronic keyboard and found a free app called Anvil Studio that I could use to record songs in midi format. Midi is ideal for a couple of reasons. First, it allowed me to easily change the values, velocities and timing of notes in case I made any small mistakes while playing a song. Second, I could produce a very realistic piano sound using a plugin that came with my Sibelius music program without having to spend myself into oblivion trying to play my songs correctly in a local studio with acoustic piano recording capabilities. I decided to create twelve Christmas videos with short versions of a few carols I had arranged for piano (the longest song was just over a minute). It was a fun project, and I posted the videos on Facebook during the month of December. I played a few of the arrangements for family members and friends during the holiday season, but when I finished the response was always the same: "That's the whole song?" Apparently they were expecting my arrangements to last longer than a minute :)

In January 2014 I decided to create an account at bandcamp.com, because I'd heard so much about it being a good platform for aspiring artists. After filling in the required information and choosing a user name and password I found myself facing a prompt that said, "Would you like to upload an album?" The answer was a resounding "YES!" But first I needed to create one.

In March inspiration struck and I decided it would be fun to make a Christmas album. I did some research to determine which of my favorite Christmas songs were in the public domain, and it turned out that there were a lot of good options. So I wrote down the names of the songs I would like to include on the album, and in May I started creating the arrangements. It seemed fitting for The First Noel to be the first song on the album, so I played every version of "The First Noel" that I could find to determine the one that I liked best to use as a starting point for my arrangement. However, I quickly realized that I didn't want to simply imitate what other arrangers had done; I wanted to create something that was uniquely my own. So I wrote down the words to The First Noel and played the melody by ear, then experimented until I found the chords that gave me the harmonic texture I wanted. I added introductions and fills and wrote down the notes in lead sheet format, then practiced it repeatedly until I felt like I knew it well enough to move on to the next song, "What Child Is This?" I decided to challenge myself and play that song in three different keys, then I wrote modulations to connect them together smoothly. When I played my arrangement for my daughter (a piano player herself), she said, "I think that's the best arrangement you've ever made." Her compliment gave me the strength to keep going during the next four months that it took to finish all of the arrangements.

As I continued to arrange songs I quickly realized that I was going to need something other than harmonic variety and key changes to keep the album interesting. So I composed new melodies for several songs and wove them in and out of the original melodies. By the time I finally reached the last song I was exhausted but happy with the results. The next step was to practice the music, which I did for about a month before starting to record.

Recording has always been very difficult for me. When I'm just playing for my own enjoyment or even for a small audience, I feel like I can be more expressive. But as soon as that little red recording light goes on I freeze up and find myself making a lot of mistakes that I wouldn't normally make. Even a "technically" correct performance can sometimes sound stiff and wooden when I am trying to record, and I wanted this album to be a reflection of my love for Christ and the Christmas season. So I decided to incorporate something new into the process. I decided to pray. Sometimes I would start recording without praying and then remember after several failed attempts. This happened while I was recording the song, "Still, Still, Still" and after I prayed I was able to record it in a single take on my very next attempt. Anyone who has watched me try to record a song will recognize what a miracle that really was.

It took about a month to record the first half of the album, and then one night I had some free time and was feeling "in the zone." I ended up recording six songs in one sitting and was able to then move on to the listening and adjusting process. I wanted to get the timings just right, so it took about an hour for each song -- listening over and over and making small adjustments -- before I was satisfied. I wasn't sure if I should complete the entire album myself using the Sibelius plugin like I had done for my Christmas videos the year before, or if I should work with a professional sound engineer. The question was answered for me when I started running into pedaling problems after the first two tracks. I didn't discover this until afterwards, but somehow the program I was using (I had upgraded to a digital audio workstation called "Reaper" for about $60) was inserting two pedal tracks into a single midi file and they were conflicting with each other. I am so grateful that happened, though, because this time my experience working with a sound engineer (the same sound engineer I had worked with six years before when I attempted to make an album and failed) was absolutely amazing. Because I was so prepared and had done my best to get the timings right, he was able to focus on other aspects of my music like dynamics and getting just the right sound for each song. He used synth pads to create ambiance and depth, mastering each track in a way that I simply wouldn't have been able to do on my own. And the price for the entire album wasn't much more than I had paid for just one song the last time I was in his studio.

While I do enjoy being able to complete projects from start to finish on my own, I can definitely see the value that collaborating with an expert added to the final product. I also wouldn't have been able to create an album without the music teachers, family and friends whose patience and support while I was learning to play made this journey possible. And I am grateful for my music students who gave me a reason to keep improving my skills so I could be a better teacher.

In the last few months I've created the track lists for four more albums and I hope to be able to add additional instruments to at least some of the songs on them. I don't know where music will take me in the future, but I've already been to so many places I never thought I'd be, so I'm not ruling anything out. And I am DEFINITELY going to enjoy the journey.

Music Lessons, Life Lessons

Someone asked me recently, "If money were no object, how would you spend your time?" And the answer is that I would teach music lessons, which is something I am already fortunate enough to be doing in my spare time.

In a world where science, mathematics and engineering and other "practical" subjects are so heavily emphasized, learning to play in instrument might seem like a frivolous waste. But by choosing to become active participants in creating music rather than just remaining passive listeners, we can learn valuable lessons that apply to life both inside and outside the practice room.

PASSION
Have you ever been shopping or driving down the road and heard a song that reminded you of a happy childhood memory? Music is the language of the heart, and it can pierce our souls in a way that no other medium can. Some of my students already recognize the power of music and realize that playing is its own reward. For those that don't, my goal is to introduce them to songs that align with their interests and guide their development until they can begin to experience the inherent joy of making music. I recognize that not everyone is going to become a concert pianist or rock star or even a lifelong music hobbyist, but I do want to give my students the best possible opportunity to discover what making music can truly offer them. My passion for music was the fuel that helped me overcome every obstacle I encountered as I was learning to play, and I want my students to discover for themselves that when they are pursuing something they are passionate about they can joyfully accomplish anything they set out to do.

PERSONAL GROWTH
Learning to play an instrument at any age can help students explore new possibilities and open up new ways of thinking and being. It can provide a never-ending source of knowledge expansion, and the work ethic required to learn to play an instrument provides an effective model for accomplishing other difficult tasks in life.

PERSISTENCE
I often talk to adults who wish they had learned to play an instrument as a child or who wish they had more time to learn now. My response is always the same: it only takes fifteen minutes a day. Progress is the inevitable byproduct of consistent practice, and when combined with passion and expert guidance it's an unbeatable formula for success. This same principle can be applied to learning languages, art, mathematics, religion, sports, science or any other discipline in which a student wants to become proficient. Spend fifteen minutes a day learning something new and you'll be amazed how far it can take you.

PERSEVERANCE
Much of the work I do in my music studio involves helping students defeat mental blocks that are keeping them from achieving their goals. Having traveled the difficult path that they are just beginning, it is easy for me to see where they are going and the effort it will take to get there. When they look up and are overwhelmed by the steepness and difficulty of the climb ahead, I encourage them to simply stay focused on what they are learning right now and take it one step at a time. There is no better way to convince others that they can succeed than by presenting them with increasingly difficult right-sized tasks that they are able to accomplish day after day and week after week. This principle translates directly to academic, business and personal endeavors. The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.

PAYING IT FORWARD
Amateur and professional musicians alike can help make the world a better place by creating something worthwhile and sharing it with audiences large and small. They can inspire and teach and connect. They can help create meaning by providing the soundtrack to the chaotic cinema of our lives. They can help relieve the pressures of life. They can move us to laughter and tears and remind us what it means to be human. They can give us hope and light and help us better understand the darkness in and around us. In this way musicians can "pay it forward" in a way that is completely unique, and through music they can learn to recognize the importance of paying it forward in everything they do.

Music Apps Worth More Than Their Weight in Electrons

Recently I went on a voyage of discovery to find the best music-related apps for the iPad and iPhone. Much of what I found was flawed, sometimes due to prices that seemed too high for what was actually delivered, but also because many music apps, while fun to play, do not help students build independent skills that are useful in the real world. Here are a few apps, though, that are worth checking out. Note that I am not associated with any of these companies in any way. I'm just a private music teacher looking for tools to help me do my job better.


UKEOKE

Price: $35/year (subscription)
If you're looking for a way to learn ukulele, look no further than this app featuring great songs, a fun karaoke-like interface, song lyrics, chord diagrams, and an instrumental "band" to provide melodies and bass lines while you join in with the ukulele. The company makes a similar app for guitar called FourChords, but I personally prefer the Ukeoke interface and have been using it to practice guitar, ukulele and even bass. (Plus I didn't really want to buy a second subscription.)


CHORD SHAKER

Price: Free
This app provides a great way to learn guitar chords and practice switching between them. While a phone can't replace the feeling of an actual guitar in your hands, this app is the next best thing.


SMILEYAPPS MUSIC THEORY TUTOR

Price: $3.99
While there are many music theory apps out there that provide a lot of good information, this app does it in an animated/interactive and very accessible way. If you're looking for an app to help you pass the final exam for a college music theory class, this probably isn't the right solution. But if you are relatively new to music and are looking for an introduction to some of the key concepts that you will encounter as you progress in your studies, I highly recommend this program.


CAPO by SUPERMEGAULTRAGROOVY, INC.

Price: $9.99
This is a pretty impressive app, and though the price is higher than most apps it's worth every penny. This program allows you to speed up or slow down the tempo of a song, mark different sections, change the key a song is performed in, loop a section, and it determines (fairly accurately, from what I could tell) the chords of the song. It's an amazing tool for anyone who is trying to transcribe a song for piano or guitar, and it can be used to help with the process of learning a difficult song as well.

An Interview with Gerry Baird

How would you summarize your music teaching philosophy?

Make it fun. For most of us, music is a choice. If we enjoy doing it, we'll keep doing it. If it's a miserable experience--either because we never get to play the songs we love or because we don't feel like we can succeed--we'll quit.My goal is to keep students playing, not just while they're taking lessons from me, but for the rest of their lives.

What instruments do you teach?

Piano and guitar.

How long have you been teaching?

Since 2007.

What types of music do you teach?

Just about anything my students want to learn. I've studied jazz, classical, new age and pop music (and I've arranged just about every Taylor Swift song ever written). I'm not an expert lead guitarist and I don't enjoy heavy metal or rap. Otherwise, pretty much anything is on the table. Especially if it's Imagine Dragons.

What music notation styles do you teach?

I teach standard notation and chord reading for piano. I teach tab and chords for guitar.

What ages do you teach?

I teach all ages, but I teach children, teens and adults in different ways. Adults and teens have more developed musical ears and a more intellectual approach to learning music, so I create a custom curriculum that gets them exactly where they want to be as quickly as possible. When children begin to express musical preferences, I do my best to incorporate their favorite songs into the learning process.

How are you different from other music teachers?

For one thing, I purchase all of the music for my students (it's included in the cost of lessons). I tell my students that they can play ALMOST any song they want to play (some songs simply don't work very well for certain instruments, and the heavy metal and rap exceptions mentioned earlier still apply). If printed sheet music isn't available for a particular song, I can usually transcribe it by ear. I try to create a version of a song that sounds like the original but matches a student's playing level, although there are occasions when I will recommend waiting to learn a particular song if it is too far beyond a student's playing ability. I also encourage students to make songs their own. If there's a note or interval they don't like, I tell them it's okay to change it. And I teach my more advanced students improvisation and songwriting if they want to learn those skills. I do teach music theory, but I do it in the context of actual songs rather than just imparting knowledge that students may or may not find useful in their playing. Some of my students want to know what it would be like to play in a band, so I simulate that experience for them in my home studio. I play along on piano or guitar and add synthesized drum beats, strings and looped bass tracks to create a fuller sound. This approach works particularly well with pop music, and it's a lot more interesting than playing along with a metronome. I also use recording technologies to allow students to hear themselves and improve their performing skills. My teaching methods, tools and technologies are continually evolving and I am always searching for fun and innovative ways to help students move to the next level.

Do you require your students to play in recitals?

No, never. I join with a few other teachers in my neighborhood once a year (in January) to put together a recital, but my students can choose whether or not they want to perform.

Do you believe that face-to-face music instruction will eventually become obsolete?

I think there are some people who can find videos online and learn to play quite proficiently without an instructor (guitar would be easier to learn this way than piano). But for the vast majority of us I think there's still a need for face-to-face instruction, at least in the beginning stages. There's just something about the ability to ask questions that makes the educational process work more effectively, and when it comes to playing an instrument a Skype call can only do so much. I'm continually searching for new technologies that will help my students develop their skills more quickly, and perhaps someday my job will be done by a robot or outsourced to India. But I'm not holding my breath.

How do you encourage parental involvement?

I love it when parents want to get involved! They can talk to me anytime to provide feedback or find out how things are going. They are always welcome to attend lessons as their time allows, and I have even had parents take lessons along with their kids.

If someone has additional questions or wants to sign up for lessons, how can they reach you?

My email address is gerrybaird@gmail.com and my phone number is 385-208-2746. I also maintain a web site at www.bairdmusic.com and there is a contact form that can be filled out.

Why do you do what you do?

Music is the universal language. It speaks to hearts in a way that words alone can't. It eases stress, heals souls and helps people forget their troubles. As a musician I can play for my own enjoyment or share music with others while performing at a rest home, playing guitar in front of a campfire, accompanying a church choir or playing for a family Christmas singalong. I teach because I want others to experience the same joy that making music brings to me.