Practicing After a Break
Very few things are as frustrating as coming back to your instrument after a break, whether forced or voluntary. There was a time when I thought even a day away from the guitar was the end of the world. I’d take a full sized guitar or Martin Backpacker with me on every trip, ensuring my fingers stayed limber and that I retained whatever concept I was working on at the time.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out that 1-2 day breaks were actually very good for creativity. Getting away can alleviate the boredom of constantly drilling the same stuff and reinvigorate your interest in making music, getting out of your head, taking more risks, following your ear. I don’t think I’m breaking new ground by saying too much practice can limit spontaneity:
For the recording of his most famous album, Kind of Blue, Davis continued his preference for no rehearsals by showing up to the studio with only a few notes. “I didn’t write out the music for Kind of Blue,” Davis said, “but brought in sketches, because I wanted a lot of spontaneity in the playing. I knew that if you’ve got some great musicians they will deal with the situation and play beyond what is there and above where they think they can.”
The other benefit I noticed when taking breaks was that - of all the material I’d been practicing - you got to see what “stuck” vs. what faded away. For example, I may have been trying to learn a melodic concept, say the applications of the “Cry Me a River lick” in several positions and contexts, maybe 2-3 dozen instances. What I’d find was that a short break following an intense period of woodshedding these concepts, most of them would fade away, except for a few that started actually showing up in my improvised playing. I’d go from knowing 2-3 dozen applications of a concept “sorta well,” to knowing just 3-4 very well.
The real drag, however, was the technical atrophy that happened. Here, two things helped:
First, just getting that first practice session in. Getting over that hurdle can be really tough, especially following multiple days off. Once I’d forced myself to at least start the routine back up, even if just a 10-15 minute session, it was far easier to get back in the habit of practicing regularly.
Second, having a piece of music that you can play mindlessly but that tests a wide range of technical challenges can give you a glidepath back to technical proficiency without taxing your discipline by making you work through something challenging. Perhaps it’s a Bach violin piece, an etude you wrote, or a Charlie Parker melody.
For me, I’ve been using the first Chromatophores etude written by saxophonist Ben Solomon. I can’t play it as fast as the sax players can, but it contains a ton of tricky arpeggios, enforced finger stretches, sweep and alternate picking, and varied material covering the entire musical range of the guitar. It also requires a ton of stamina; being able to play the entire thing without cramps is a good indication you’re back in shape. Importantly, I have it memorized and can play it in my sleep, so there’s no incremental hurdle to re-engaging with the guitar.
Every January, I spend several days out in SF meeting with healthcare executives and investors at the JP Morgan Healthcare Conference. So this topic is on my mind. Thanks to the understanding that creativity benefits from breaks, and to the Chromatophores etude helping me get back my technicals with relative ease, I no longer stress out over not having a guitar at hand.
