Abstract
Research in music education asserts that video review by performers facilitates self-directed learning and transforms performing. Yet, certain videos may be traumatic for musicians to view; those who perceive themselves as failing or experience performance-related failures are prone to feelings of distress and sadness that can negatively affect their music-making and well-being. In this study, the reactions of nine Canadian undergraduate pianists to reviewing themselves regularly on video are examined. The study was designed in two parts: first of all, to track the effects of watching self-referent videos of piano lessons and other performances; second, to highlight student responses to a Recital Review Protocol (RRP). The RRP was designed with instructors and students in mind, incorporating neuroscience strategies to reverse blood flow patterns in areas of the brain responsible for negative mood induction. The results from the first part of the study point to how regular video analysis is able to shift initial negative perceptions and transform practicing and performing. The findings from the second part indicate that more attention needs to be paid to students by instructors immediately after performances.
Introduction
In most university and community one-on-one lessons, the video recording of pianists is normative, though usually reserved for major performances rather than everyday lesson situations. However, during my own coaching by New York City performer/author Madeline Bruser in 1999, I was introduced to regular filming sessions in order to understand how my posture and bodily motions could influence brain activity and lessen anxiety during performing. As a result of the positive changes that occurred in my playing related to this experience, I began to video record myself more regularly. Subsequently, I have employed a similar approach with my students. While I continue to use digital camera recordings to capture the visual and aural qualities of “peak performances” – what went right, what went wrong – I also employ it during my own practicing and in the regular lessons with my students to provide information on the interrelationship of the body, mind, and emotions.
Given such extensive use of videos, a major question has surfaced for me prompted by the negative initial reaction of most students to the thought of viewing themselves play on videos: is watching a “bad” performance helpful or to be avoided? Ironically, most of my students are successful in performance, yet they perceive themselves as less so. However, I do on occasion have to help students contextualize video-recorded performances that are, if not disappointing, marked by significant lack of achievement. Should one “erase the tape,” so to speak, and simply move on? This question is an important one to consider in light of the acknowledged mental states of many classical musicians; Bruser for one asserts that a critical mindset exists that tends to undermine lifelong music-making and good health (Bruser, 1997). In sport, researchers including Henry (Hap) Davis IV have noted a similar tendency among elite athletes, the majority of whom are reported to have experienced a mood disorder (e.g., depression) at some point in their careers (Davis et al., 2008).
Davis’s activities as both neuroscience researcher and practicing psychologist make him a valuable resource to sport coaches and music educators alike. He has used video recordings to reverse the depression in world-class swimmers that often occurs after meets, races and major international events such as the Olympics. In addition, he advises and works with musicians at all levels of playing with similar performance-related issues. Davis et al. (2008) received international attention from scientists, sport psychologists, and the popular print and TV media due to their groundbreaking findings in the use of videos to enhance performance and minimize performance-related trauma. While the brain’s regional responses related to the viewing of others have been studied, the examination of what happens when self-defeat is observed is a new area of exploration with implications for all performers.
Literature
The use of cameras to enhance learning in instrumental studies has been the focus of music education and neuroscience researchers alike. As outlined by Savage (2002), Otto Ortmann and József Gát were two of the earliest 20th-century researchers in piano pedagogy to recognize the ability of still photographs to transcend the limits of language, using pictures of physical motions either to supplement or supplant written descriptions. However, the attention first given to still photographs has given way to technologies that allow for real-time, slow-motion, and edited videos that can be replayed, shared quickly, and accessed globally by students and instructors through cell phones and computers. Technological developments continue to improve visual and sound components and increase affordability, aspects exemplified in the common cell phone and its still photograph and video capabilities. Given how YouTube has become a valuable resource for instrumental students since its inception in 2005, a detailing of how important visual observation is in music training seems timely.
The ability to learn precise, difficult motions through video observation has been the focus of neuroscientists whose studies have included, among others, musicians and dancers. Investigations have shown how brain regions responsible for the planning of movement and movement itself are activated when observing actions, a function of the so-called “human mirror neuron system.” Research examining the role of imitation in the learning of musical instruments denotes the stronger involvement of this mirror system when subjects observe an action they know they will have to imitate (Buccino et al., 2004). Studies involving dancers corroborate this, tracing greater neural activation and “covert motor activity” when subjects observe motions they can already do (Calvo-Merino, Glaser, Grèzes, Passingham, & Haggard, 2005). Further, scientists have discovered even higher neural activation levels when dancers not only watch, but also then both simulate in their minds and physically rehearse the motions observed (Cross, Hamilton, & Grafton, 2006). Simulation as a performance-enhancing strategy has been utilized extensively by sport psychologists and, given its successful use by athletes and dancers for years, has been advocated for musicians (Bellon, 2006; Lehrer, 2002). Salient to this discussion, the benefits achieved from the “mental tracing” of physical motion by musicians have been likened to those from observing oneself on video (Savage, 2002).
What are the broader implications of neuroscience research for the music educator? The role of imitation and mimicry within music training seems obvious as an effective and efficient manner of learning; that a musician learns much from watching someone else perform a work he or she is practicing is affirmed by music educators, with or without the support of neuroscience research. However, while neuroscience has documented how the brain rehearses motions when video observation is taking place, it has only begun to address how emotions affect such learning. Davis et al. (2008) address this crucial issue, tracking through functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) how, within 8 minutes of having swimmers watch themselves in races with career-threatening results, blood flow patterns in their brains were analogous to that of depressed individuals (Le Poole, 2007). Without reversing these patterns, the parts of the brain vital to athletic performance (motor and prefrontal cortices) would not be activated, typically prompting the lethargy and motor retardation associated with depressed individuals (Davis et al., 2008). Consequently, Davis et al. incorporated a Cognitive Intervention (CI) within their protocol (see Table 1). In the CI, participants were not only to name and articulate feelings related to failure, but also to consider and plan changes to improve performance. In a landmark finding, the study group discovered that a brief CI was able to successfully reverse such blood flow patterns in the brain. In short, the ability to reverse debilitating affects from reviewing video-recorded performances had been scientifically documented.
The fMRI study’s video review protocol
Although neuroscience has yet to do the same study on musicians, music educators have assumed that similar neural patterns and resulting difficulties occur for instrumentalists. Lehrer, for one, proposes a strategy drawn from sport psychology to facilitate successful future performances by de-briefing the recital immediately after it has taken place, preventing any negative aspects from being exaggerated and providing strategies for improved performance (2002). In essence, this reflects a concern on how to cultivate objectivity or self-detachment when it is required. Cultivating “awareness” and “presence in the now,” meditative states have been seen within neuroscience studies to prompt shifting of activity from the ventral medial prefrontal cortex and amygdala in favor of more lateral prefrontal regions (Farb et al., 2007). The ability of the human brain to change its structure and functioning, known as “neural plasticity,” has prompted researchers to view happiness as more as an acquired skill than a natural state of being (Davidson & Lutz, 2007). Importantly, and with an eye to the purposes and design of the present study, these results are supported by music-related findings; contemplative practices have been seen to transform the bodies and mental states of musicians plagued by anxiety, depression, and excessive mental chatter (Berenson, 2002; Bruser, 1997; Chang, Midlarsky, & Lin, 2003).
Present study
The purposes of the present study were to track the effects of having regular video analysis as part of both practicing and performing, as well as to design a Recital Review Protocol (RRP) to be used by others as a tool to improving future performances. Given these separate but interrelated foci, the study was designed in two parts: first, to track the effects of watching self-referent videos with regard to piano lessons and shorter performances; second, to propose a piano-centric RRP based on the model of Davis’s research group. I expected to affirm basic strategies as outlined in the research group’s study that employed fMRI technology. The pivotal role of the CI, a key element in reversing performance-inhibiting blood flow patterns within the brains of swimmers, was to be retained. Although secondary, the proposed strategies for pianists were to take into account the research of neuroscientists that suggests brain plasticity or “rewiring” of the brain occurs in practitioners of meditation.
I met with Davis, in addition to some email and telephone calls, to discuss his research and clinical findings. He observed my teaching of a lesson as part of this consultation. Also, I took into account my experiences as an active recitalist and recording artist. Typically, I experimented with video-related strategies, after which I then applied said techniques to lesson, post-lesson, and post-performance student situations.
Method
Participants
A total of nine undergraduate students participated, all enrolled at a university campus in the province of Alberta, Canada. Because the study was done over a 2-year period, and because the majority of students continued in their studies with a single studio instructor, the nine undergraduate students accounted for 14 course registrations in total. Of the nine students, five were enrolled as Bachelor of Music Piano Majors, three were Bachelor of Music Comprehensive Majors, and one was a Bachelor of Arts Music Major. Five females and four males participated in the study. The mean age for the pianists was 25.93, with an overall range from 18 to 52. Participants averaged 15.13 hours of reported practice per week, with an overall range from 7.63 to 31.8. Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Music Comprehensive Majors averaged 10.72 hours per week, with Bachelor of Music Piano Majors averaging 18.6 hours per week. Caveats to the interpretation of these averages include, but are not limited to, the following: hours practiced during the summer and other holidays have not been included; the potential for the misreporting amounts of hours practiced exists; the averages primarily reflect practicing done in the first year of the study due to some temporary data loss incurred in the study’s second year.
Procedure
Individuals enrolled as students of the instructor were required to analyze video recordings as part of their course work. For the purposes of assisting the researcher in tracing student experiences, including those related to the reviewing of videos, a research grant was obtained from the host university to design an “Online Music Practicing Log.” The log, inspired by the researcher’s use of a version for runners, allows for extensive journaling. It records a variety of elements related to practicing as well, including date/time/length of practice, the particular type of practicing (a particular piece, technique, etc.), and a self-rating for each practice session. The log is able to track and provide instant statistics of the amount of hours practiced by week, month, and year. An important feature of the log is instructor access to student logs at any time, allowing the instructor to guide students in their practicing based on experiences and insights made between lessons. Access to the log was supported by additional funding from the university that allowed for the placement of internet-supported iMAC computers, DVD burners, and video cameras in each of the campus’s eight practice rooms. At the end of each academic year, students were encouraged to consider filling out a survey whose link was placed on the webpage of the music log and whose purposes included obtaining anonymous, consensual feedback on the use of the video equipment.
Measures
Lesson- and performance-based data
Using a journal, participants were asked to record their reflections and analyses of videos filmed at their individual lessons. The students were often requested to do this within certain time frames, such as between lessons and directly after lessons. However, given the frequency with which they were recorded, certain pianists became accustomed without prompting to analyzing videos from their lessons. All performances at group or repertoire classes were recorded, as well as performances at master classes led by guest artists. Again, as part of logging all aspects of practicing, students were expected and generally did reflect on these experiences as well.
Recital-based data
Only two students performed recitals at the end of the first year of the study. Both recitals were non-compulsory and performed by piano majors. The students met with the researcher to collectively review the video and engage in dialogue in sessions that lasted on average a couple of hours. In the second year of the study, three students performed recitals, all compulsory performed by piano majors. The three students entered into more extensive analyses in this second year, being more closely structured on the fMRI sessions outlined by Davis et al. (2008). In addition to the viewing of videos first by themselves and then with the instructor, these participants also engaged in timed breathing meditations, extensive journaling of their feelings during and after viewings and a significant cognitive intervention led by the researcher/instructor. Altogether, this process ranged from 5 to 6 hours per participant.
Results
Lesson- and performance-based data
The receptions of videos by these pianists proved to be complex. As I discovered from reading their journals, the pianists did not approach videos of themselves free of emotions, judgments and opinions. After performing for and then being coached by a guest artist in a public master class situation, a participant wrote: “it was one of the worst performances I’ve ever had and I do not want to watch the DVD of the performance EVER! The end.” Intriguingly, all the students (including the quoted participant) typically watched videos as requested and usually discovered that their playing was never quite as bad as they remembered.
The more positive tones after watching didn’t mean suspension of criticism. Indeed, students were just as critical, but the foci of their critique typically shifted. Upon reviewing a video from a private lesson, one pianist expressed that the playing “wasn’t as bad as I thought, but it sounded low-spirited for sure.” Another would often review the same video multiple times, being sure to focus on sound and visuals equally because one was not necessarily seen as being indicative of the other: “I am so happy to hear such improvement in my tone. Just listening (and not watching), I found it hard to believe it was actually me playing.” The relationship between sound and physical motion was the focus of another student as well, who noted the unique contradictions that videos are able to capture in comparison to sound recordings:
The first note of the Chopin. It sounds fine on the audio. But when I watch the video, it looks like there is no motion and I am locked up in the keys, which makes me perceive the music as being tight. This is an example of a good sound being affected by a bad motion.
Trained in a coordinated approach to piano playing, where all the levers of a player’s mechanism are involved – fingers, hands, forearms, upper arms, torso – the student found the video to be a useful tool in monitoring a holistic approach to sound production.
The participants used videos in unexpected ways that both supported and subverted normative processes. With videos of their lessons made on a regular basis, five of the nine participants began without prompting to compare their progress in pieces within shorter time frames (e.g., from lesson to lesson) and between longer ones (e.g., from the beginning to the end of the year). This seemed to help students recognize progress and, thus, grow in confidence. The use of videos to subvert traditional practice habits and recital preparations is exemplified by one student who placed greater and greater emphasis on watching and reflecting on videos, and less and less focus on the amount of time practiced playing repertoire. This situation came about for a variety of reasons, including lack of motivation, depression and, in a more positive vein, knowledge of the efficacy of visualization techniques from previous athletic training. While exasperated by the student’s lack of keyboard practicing, I became intrigued by what could be a different learning style. Consequently, I sat down to watch with the student the first of three recitals to be performed by the said individual. For the pianist, this process prompted intense focus as well as a critique of the typical piano lesson:
I have a lot of things to think about from reviewing the concert recording. It is good to have these things to think about. I think that reviewing the recording with my teacher is much more effective than a regular lesson. I feel much more in tune with my body movements after watching myself perform. I know what it looks like when I perform, and I know what I need to fix.
For this student, becoming “in tune” with physical motion was to occur not only through the watching of videos, but also through cognitive techniques learned from previous sport training such as visualization and simulation of motions.
Recital Review Protocol (RRP) data
An important, if not culminating, part of the study was to implement a recital review protocol that incorporated the CI Davis et al. (2008) found to be effective in reversing debilitating emotional and physical responses from videos of personal failures. The model for video review by pianists (see Table 2) is adapted into four parts (I–IV) to reflect significant differences between swim races and piano recitals. While the swimmers watched their failed races twice in each of the two fMRI sessions, the impracticality of doing this for full-length recitals (as opposed to shorter races) prompted a differing strategy.
Recital Review Protocol (RRP)
Another major difference was that, unlike the swimmers who began their viewings with videos of other swimmers as a comparison for evaluating changes in blood flow in the brain, I had the pianists begin their viewings with a “Mindfulness Breathing Exercise.” The inclusion of meditation was not unexpected for these recitalists; in the second year of the study, most piano lessons began with a 5-minute exercise where the student and instructor sat in silence and observed their own breathing in and out. Doing this prior to watching videos was to assist in entering into the recital experiences as fully as possible. As I found in their lessons, mental chatter, moodiness, and physical tension were reduced, indicating meditation to be an available tool in helping to alter negative moods and facilitating optimal motor coordination. As one of my students indicated after a master class performance: “I did about 20 minutes of focused breathing and it helped so much. I felt at ease and consequently performed at (probably) the best of my ability.”
The two viewings of each piano recital video allowed for individual, unmediated responses by pianists in Part I and then, in Part III, from both students and instructor. Participants found the second viewing helpful in offering possibilities for transformation:
I think reviewing the DVD with [name of instructor] was very valuable. I got some feedback from [name of instructor] and he got mine. We discussed it together. I still don’t know or should I say that I’m still not certain about how good is good or how bad is bad in my playing, so it was very good to hear things from [name of instructor]. Both [name of instructor] and I observed my improvement in the DVD. I felt a little confident after watching it and feel like I know what I need to work on – what my strengths and weaknesses are.
Participants indicated levels of anxiety experienced during and after recitals. As they watched, they were asked to re-experience emotions and physical sensations, elements offering clues to their mindset at the time. Like the study involving swimmers, the RRP employed markers for degrees of distress/sadness to be used at the end of a piece or movement. This proved helpful in tracking participant feelings and thoughts in specific areas of the recitals, particularly in moments of high stress. After reviewing a recital video for the first time, a pianist wrote the following log entry and provided a number rating that was suitably “off the charts” (being out of 7):
As I watch this, I’m hurting. I’m reminding myself to be brave and I’m taking this as a learning experience. It just fucking sucks. This movement was fairly disastrous, just as I remember it being. It’s not sadness that I’m feeling, it’s anger and awfulness. Distress meter: 9.
In Part IV’s final reflection, however, the participant was consistent with the other two in achieving a more balanced, positive perspective. Here, strengths were finally named alongside weaknesses:
The second watching made me realize that perhaps it wasn’t a complete disaster. There were moments that made me smile and made me proud. I think the first watching found me overwhelmed by the mistakes, which made me unable to focus on anything but how awful certain things went. This video review process has been extremely emotional and difficult. I knew that things were going to be difficult to watch. That being said, I have also felt significantly better after having watched the DVD a second time.
Discussion
For a pianist, what is the equivalent of a “bad race” such as a Canadian Olympic swimmer failing to make the national team or win an expected medal? For university students, juries, master classes, competitions and auditions for graduate schools are arguably similar to major races. Weekly and group lesson performances might be considered equivalent to lesser races. Within each of these types of performances, variations of stress can be further deduced (e.g., a fourth-year recital being arguably more stressful than a third-year recital due to the increased duration, difficulty of repertoire).
As this study has shown, pianists tend to remember errors rather than the overall musical context of a performance. Bruser attributes this tendency to, among other things, unhealthy competitiveness, difficulties of memory work, challenging repertoire and the risks involved with performing intricate, precise motions (Bruser, 1999). After performing a recital a number of years ago, I was counseled by a noted Canadian pianist not to listen to the performance for at least six months in order to more fully appreciate my achievements. That the performance had been judged to be a successful one speaks to how the slightest of elements factor into and, on occasion, hijack memories. Seemingly, healing needs to take place after both successful and traumatic performances, whether in sport or music. This is one of the reasons that a future neuroscience study similar to Davis et al.’s (2008) needs to occur, focusing on the neural traits of musicians who have viewed themselves in equivalent career-threatening situations so that even more refined strategies for musicians can be offered.
While piano performances are different than sport-based ones in many ways, they are the same in the need to establish internal standards of “winning” and “losing.” However, while athletes have been cited in research as responding better to goals related to success in competition, musicians seem better motivated by intrinsic goals that help to focus on appreciation of the musical experience rather than “beating the competition” (Lacaille, Koestener, & Gaudreau, 2007). Because the videos in the present study focus on the gazes of pianists looking at themselves, the importance of intrinsic goals to artistic development is underscored through video recordings that track self-development and promote self-awareness.
In many ways, this study seems timely because of recently introduced technologies and their possible effects on learning. YouTube, since its creation in 2005, has altered how piano students learn; never before have I had as many students aware of great performers of the past and present as I do today. Furthermore, these students are able to watch these artists perform the very works they are studying. In both self-observation and the observation of others, enhanced learning takes place when pianists hear sounds and view motions they can do. Video analysis, therefore, has the potential for rich complexity, incorporating the “covert rehearsal” of physical motion as well as the processing and analysis of musical sound. This study demonstrates that watching video can be an active, rather than passive, process. The three pianists in the recital review process were asked to re-experience feelings, physical sensations and mental thoughts – to be “feelin’ it in their fingers,” so to speak. The experiential dimension of this parallels silent score study that many pianists engage in, where the creation of sound in the mind prompts rehearsals of motion, emotion and thoughts that may be covert, but are distinctively present nonetheless.
The consideration of further differences between athletic performance and musical performance points to areas in need of future investigation. In one of our meetings, Davis emphasized the importance of piano students reviewing their videos as soon as possible after lessons and recitals. I would add that video review also benefits instructors, who may also experience depression, negative moods and excessive internal critique after their students’ recitals. One of the issues not addressed in my study is the difficulty of reviewing videos immediately afterwards. Lehrer, in highlighting the timely debriefing practices of the American Olympic Training Centre in Colorado Springs, stresses that an instructor should arrange to do this within a day or two (Lehrer, 2002). Given time pressures for both students and instructors in recital seasons, is it always feasible to do this? Given the brain’s purported plasticity, postponement of a viewing process may prompt changes that impede recovery or allow distorted perceptions to flourish. Since some recitals do occur in the afternoon, thereby allowing for a video review later that afternoon or evening, another interesting study would be to compare the differences, if any, in the effects of recital review processes done immediately after recitals, a day after, a few days after, etc.
The importance of camera angle is also not addressed in this article and is ripe for further exploration. Savage, in his summary of the uses and technique of video cameras, discusses the placements of the camera as being dependent on the particular types of motion that are intending to be tracked (2002). However, within a neuroscience context, would a camera angle that most closely resembles where a pianist looks when playing help the pianist to more accurately reinvoke the feelings of an actual performance? Rather than a standard “off to the side” camera angle, action observation of one’s own playing from a head-mounted camera could be discovered to better activate the human mirror neuron system and enhance learning. If so, this could facilitate quicker recovery from poor performances both in better recreating the experiences of performing and, as a result, knowing strategies for improvement. In observing my piano teaching, Davis saw this particular camera angle as potentially beneficial. Indeed, studies reviewing the effects of piano videos shot from head-mounted camera angles may provide clues to brain activity, focus, anxiety, and other issues much like the tracking of eye motion does.
For most, watching oneself in a video is akin to viewing oneself in a mirror, with all the similar emotions attached. The importance of looking in a mirror, of engaging in “self-reflection” so to speak, is noted in world cultures and global spiritual traditions. For instance, Buddhism concerns itself with the notion of a cosmic mirror, a state of being that one encounters when one relaxes the mind and lets go of “the anxiety and concepts and depression that normally bind you” (Trunga, 1984). Within Buddhism, this mirror is an original state of goodness that connects us to the present and allows us to see ourselves as we “are,” free of unattainable ideals and unreasonable judgments. Achieved through meditation, the cosmic mirror can be seen to be a less technological version of capturing oneself on video. Neuroscience has documented the neural correlates of the effects of meditation. Rewiring or reconfiguring of the brain occurs, with the activation of brain regions responsible for physical coordination and the deactivation of those inducing negative moods and harsh self-talk. As discovered in these studies of pianists and swimmers, the relationships between videos and brain activity necessitate a consideration of, among other things, mirrors, motions, and emotions.
Conclusion
Rather than fixating on emotional responses to failure, pianists in this study were asked to review videos and engage in forms of cognitive intervention and meditation to help identify ways in which they could improve their playing. This strategy produced significant degrees of objectivity with regard to playing, as well objectivity about their reactions to performances. Indeed, one could say the pianists began to distrust perceptions of themselves, much like those who grow up hating their own body images. In helping students attain a balanced view of their playing, the regular viewing of video recordings, framed by the clarifying, calming effects of cognitive intervention and meditation, provides pianists with images of themselves that mirror reality and, at the same time, suggests opportunities for change. Like swimmers who fail but are given the means to quickly and radically transform a performance through watching videos of themselves, pianists may also efficiently and positively alter their musical expression. In the methodology outlined here for pianists, the expression “minding the music” extends beyond typical meanings of the phrase to include that of a radically transformative act.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author gratefully acknowledges Henry (Hap) Davis IV for generously discussing his neuroscience research and his experiences as a practicing clinical and sport psychologist. The author thanks him as well for providing helpful editing suggestions in the preparation of this manuscript.