Abstract
Sustaining a career in music by pursuing multiple paths, usually performing and teaching, is neither new nor unusual. In this article, I consider another option—the musician-writer—to demonstrate how the process used to create in one’s primary field or career path may be transferrable to the pursuit of new endeavors. Analyzing and comparing the process of writing my book about piano teachers and studying the fourth movement of the Schubert Sonata in A Major, using a framework extrapolated from my experiences as a writer and piano student, reveals similarities between these seemingly different endeavors. Written prior to the pandemic, the message of transferability is even more important now, given the immediate and long-term challenges to performing and teaching music, which demand alternative approaches (e.g., podcasts and music lessons via Zoom). Exploring the questions raised in this article should assist a performer, teacher, or student to identify their personal creative process and facilitate its conscious, deliberate, and systematic transfer to other endeavors and fields to sustain a career in music.
To sustain a career in music (i.e., a “portfolio” or “protean” career), professional musicians usually engage in diverse activities and employment (Bartleet et al., 2012; Bennett, 2016; Stolz, 2020). The most frequent combination is performing and teaching, with performing arguably considered the most prestigious and teaching being attractive because of the regular income, regular hours, and levels of artistic and administrative control (Bennett, 2016). In this article, I focus on another career option—the musician-writer—to explore the creative process in practice. 1 Drawing on my experiences as an author and piano student, the purpose of this study is to demonstrate the transferability of the creative process by comparing the process of writing a manuscript and learning a piece of music, two very different endeavors.
The musician-writer, who performs and/or teaches music and creates works of fiction or nonfiction, including books, journal articles, or textbooks, is not a new or particularly unusual career path, for example, both Couperin (1717/1953) and Czerny (1837-43/1982) published treatises on methods and instrumental playing. Several contemporary pianists are recognized not only as performers and teachers but also as writers (Bernstein, 1981; Denk, 2013; Hough, 2009). Others offer memoirs (Bernstein, 2002; Mason, 1901; Rezits, 1965) and collections of interviews with famous pianists (Mach, 1991; Marcus, 1979). Musicians at academic institutions publish in professional journals (Davies, 1964; Hough, 2009). Just as the maestro may not be the best teacher (Persson, 1996), not all performers or music teachers will be good writers; nevertheless, some, who have the potential, may not have considered writing as a career path.
The article is a self-study of my experiences writing my book about contemporary piano teachers (Stolz, 2020) and learning the fourth movement of the Schubert Sonata in A Major (henceforth referred to as the Schubert sonata). From analyzing and comparing the creative process used to pursue each of these projects, emerges the message that the same creative process may be transferrable, in practice, to different types of endeavors, even other fields. Given this message and the need to pursue multiple paths to sustain a career in music, I challenge the performer, educator, or student of music to reach beyond their comfort zone and consider writing as a path within a musical career—to take a chance.
Written prior to the pandemic, this message of transferability is even more important today. The immediate and anticipated long-term effects of this crisis on performing and teaching music demand innovation and change. Responding to the need to adapt requires not only looking outward to identify new performance venues and teaching media (e.g., podcasts and music lessons via Zoom), but also inward (e.g., self-reflection) to discover the necessary inner resources. Understanding one’s creative process should help to facilitate pursuing such innovation and change. Sharing these experiences, through writing, contributes to the profession. In addition, the teacher has a second mission—to communicate the message of adaptation and adjustment to their students and help them to identify their personal process, enabling them to continue their musical journey.
Methodology
The impetus to explore the relationship between writing and learning a piece of music was the seemingly simple suggestion of my new piano professor—to practice the way I write a journal article. Despite both the piano and writing being part of my life since childhood, the question of how the processes used to pursue and accomplish each were similar had not crossed my mind. Specifically, the professor advised me, when practicing as when writing, not to start from the beginning each time or play repeatedly the sections that I had mastered, but focus on new sections or those that needed work. His advice raised the question: How might the creative process used in writing transfer to the study of a musical composition?
To examine this question and the transferability of the creative process in practice, generally, I used a self-study methodology, drawing from the literature on education research (Loughran et al., 2004). LaBoskey conceptualizes self-study as a methodology for studying professional practices, which is self-initiated and focused, improvement-aimed, and interactive; encompasses multiple methods, mainly qualitative; and includes a validation process based in trustworthiness (Bullough & Pinnegar, 2001; Feldman, 2003; LaBoskey, 2004a, 2004b). The self in self-study refers both to the subject of the research and the researcher (LaBoskey, 2004b) in a professional context. The improvement sought is directed both to individual practice and institutional contexts (LaBoskey, 2004b). Each study, as an exemplar of practice, provides a beginning rather than end to the validation process (LaBoskey, 2004b).
This article is a self-initiated study of my experiences writing a manuscript and learning a piece of music. My piano studies began earlier than my writing, but by age 10 I was contributing to the school newspaper and preparing mini reports. This proclivity for writing led to a career in academia and government, while the piano, although ever-present, remained on the back burner. Accordingly, because my professional background is as a writer, my starting point for this article is, necessarily, the creative process involved in writing, which is then applied to learning a piece of music.
My objective in writing the current study is to demonstrate the transferability of the creative process in practice. As a self-study, I undertook this project to (1) develop insight into how the creative process I used in writing might transfer to the study of a musical composition and (2) help performers, teachers, and students of music to identify their personal creative process, which may be transferable to other endeavors. Although focused on my experiences writing a book and studying a musical composition, my underlying assumption is that each person has their own creative process, which may be transferable to different types of activities.
Using a variety of sources, I constructed narratives describing how I had developed the book and studied the Schubert sonata. For each project, I maintained notebooks in which I recorded research activities, tasks, and observations. The notebooks provided firsthand evidence of my approach to the endeavor. As an experienced researcher, I prepared a proposal laying out the research methods and process I would use to write the book. Multiple drafts of each chapter corroborate the process used to develop the book. My markings and notations on the music provide evidence of my study of the sonata. In addition, to obtain insight into good piano teaching and the creative process, I reviewed relevant literature, especially research on piano study and creativity; discussed good piano teaching with book project participants; and shared my observations with colleagues, including experienced writers and piano teachers—an interactive process (Bullough & Pinnegar, 2001; Feldman, 2003; LaBoskey, 2004b).
Synthesizing the information gleaned from these sources, I drafted the narratives describing my writing process and extrapolated the framework of my creative process in practice. The process, laid out in the next section, encompasses seven stages determined largely via self-reflection on the process used to carry out each project, including the tasks and activities described in the narrative. Using a matrix of the stages comprising the framework, I compared the narratives describing writing the book and learning the sonata. This comparison provides the basis for the analysis section of this article.
To determine the trustworthiness of my observations, I applied the framework to other projects and sought the opinions of experts in music and writing, in addition to my own expertise. Specifically, I applied the framework to the analysis of two shorter writing projects, including this article, and the study of several musical pieces. These shorter projects offered the opportunity to confirm the use and assess consistency in the application of the process. Interviewees for the book provided advice regarding the process of studying a musical composition (Stolz, 2020, chapter 10), which I incorporated into my approach. In addition, I shared my observations with colleagues, teachers, and students. Through this review process, in addition to my years of experience publishing and teaching public policy writing, I confirmed my initial observations. This review remains the beginning rather than the end of the validation process.
Analytical framework: the creative process in practice
The extant literature on creativity is rich and diverse, but researchers differ even as to the definition of creativity or a creative endeavor (Charyton & Snelbecker, 2007; Kersting, 2003; Webster, 1990). Hickey and Webster (2001) identify four perspectives from which to examine creativity—the person, process, product, and place. The current study concerns creative process, “the thinking that takes place as a person is planning to produce a creative product” (Hickey & Webster, 2001, p. 2). Their four-step model of creative thinking in music include preparation, incubation, illumination, and verification (Webster, 1990; Hickey & Webster, 2001).
The framework of the creative process in practice (see Figure 1) is an extrapolation. The purpose of this article is to demonstrate the transferability of the creative process used in writing my book and studying the Schubert sonata, I constructed the analytical framework from these experiences, rather than imposing an existing model.
Analytical framework: the creative process in practice.
The creative process, in practice comprises seven stages (see Figure 1). While it is possible to organize into stages and steps within stages, the process is not a simple linear progression but iterative.
Stage 1: Determining the project encompasses the impetus and decision to pursue a particular type of creative endeavor—writing a book or journal article, composing or studying a piece of music, or painting a picture. The question is: What is the problem, question, or activity I want to pursue?
Stage 2: Similar to Webster’s preparation stage (Hickey & Webster, 2001), conceiving the big picture requires thinking about and gathering materials and ideas about the creative endeavor. The question is: What is the big picture—the story or image—that I want to convey?
Stage 3: Breaking down the endeavor, whatever the length, and focusing on the development of smaller manageable sections (e.g., a chapter or movement) contributes to the actualization of the big picture.
Stage 4: Working in smaller sections, which may require a further break down into subsections, facilitates more in-depth analysis and attention to detail.
Stage 5: Having developed the sections and subsections, sections are recombined to construct the big picture. The question is: Does the manuscript or performance of the piece convey the story or image, as conceived? Stepping back at this point is both active and passive, providing the time to think (Webster’s incubation stage) and facilitating more objective self criticism to answer the question.
Stage 6: The revision stage underscores the iterative nature of the creative process. Similar to Webster’s verification stage (Hickey & Webster, 2001), revision includes identifying issues within and across sections, additional editing of a manuscript, or listening critically to one’s playing and identifying sections to be reworked. Resolving issues may require repeating earlier stages.
Stage 7: Combining sections and subsections, the big picture emerges in the presentation, whether a publication or performance.
The Webster model includes illumination as that stage in which a great idea comes to mind—the “aha” effect (Hickey & Webster, 2001). I would contend that illumination can occur within any stage of the framework outlined above.
Analysis of the process: writing the book and studying the Schubert sonata—a comparison
Using the framework to analyze and compare my experiences writing the book on piano teachers and studying the Schubert sonata reveals the process I used to achieve these different endeavors. At each stage, I used the same approach and posed similar questions.
Determine the project
Determining the project encompasses both the impetus and decision to pursue the endeavor. An event or experience may provide the impetus to research a particular topic. For example, revelations that young women were being trafficked from the Russian city where I had taught led to my writing articles on human trafficking, respectively. Any number of factors may motivate a professional musician or student to study a piece of music; for example, a young student may choose a favorite song (Cheng & Southcott, 2016). The impetus for both writing the book and learning the sonata was, albeit different, music; the conveyors of music aroused my interest in the former, while the music, itself, evoked the latter. My decisions to write the book about contemporary piano teachers and study the Schubert sonata were both very personal and involved emotional and intellectual components.
The book: impetus and decision
My research on the book began in late 2014, precipitated by a change in piano professors in 2013. I observed and began to analyze the differences in their respective teaching approaches. In addition, the opportunity to meet several piano teachers, whose teaching styles and student populations were very different, increased my awareness of the differences between piano teachers depicted in novels and film and my personal experiences. From these musings arose the questions: Why would an individual, including my father who had taught both piano and organ, decide to teach piano? Having decided to teach, how does the individual become and be a piano teacher? The search for answers to these questions led to the decision to write the book.
The sonata: impetus and decision
Hearing the Schubert sonata in two very different contexts precipitated my interest in and decision to study the fourth movement. A modernized version of the movement is the opening theme for the 1990s television comedy “Wings.” Thanks to reruns on a late night local TV station, I heard the melody most nights. Attending a Sunday afternoon concert at the Phillips Gallery in Washington, D.C., I heard the original score, or, perhaps, heard the music differently. Ultimately, my curiosity about and love of the music were the impetus to study and learn to play the work well, not just passably. The die was cast. I went to the local music store, bought a copy of the Henle Urtext edition, and brought it to my next lesson; so began my study of the Schubert sonata. Learning the piece was a challenge, reaching beyond my comfort level. Nevertheless, like the book, once I had made the decision to study and master the movement to the best of my ability, the process was set in motion.
Conceive the big picture
Moving from the general to specific, my focus shifted to conceiving the big picture that I wanted to convey. For the writer or musician, the overriding question is: What is the story to be told or image to be conveyed though the words or music? What is entailed in answering the question, however, is somewhat different. When writing a book or an article, the writer is responsible for developing the story line, which creates the image or sends a message. To develop the image (including feelings) conveyed by a piece of music, the musician, in this case the pianist, has a two-fold responsibility—to consider the composer’s intent and interpret that intent. Creating the book and the sonata, each began with my visualizing the end result of the creative process—the story or image I wanted to convey. Over time I might modify the structure; organization; and, of course details, but the big picture drives my creative process.
The book: developing the big picture
Two questions drove my initial research for the book: Who is the contemporary U.S. teacher of piano and what story could I tell? I began looking for answers in the library, specifically through searches of the Library of Congress and New York Public Library on-line catalogs and data bases, using such terms as piano teacher, piano lesson, and piano pedagogue. My initial reading of novels and historical memoirs, identified through these searches, revealed portrayals of the piano teacher in historical and social science contexts. The piano teacher described in the children’s literature was usually a not very interesting mature woman, who rewarded her students with stickers or candy. Depictions in the adult literatures ranged from the less than competent teacher, to the troubled individual, to child molesters. Student memoirs, especially of the historical pedagogues, were generally more sympathetic although colorful and very human.
Ultimately, my objective for the book, which would guide its development, was to create a portrait of the contemporary U.S. piano teacher—deciding to become, becoming, and being a piano teacher. From the literatures I extrapolated factors that might contribute to becoming and being a piano teacher, as well as qualities of a good teacher, but developing the portrait meant identifying individuals who could provide the details of the story. Drawing on my background in social science research, recognizing the large number of U.S. piano teachers, and wanting to learn from the experiences of “good teachers,” situating the study within the social science tradition that views those who have experienced a situation as meaningful informants regarding that situation (Stolz, 1985) seemed appropriate. My interview population was a cadre of twenty contemporary piano teachers. Coming from diverse backgrounds and experiences, what these experts had in common was decades of teaching piano and a willingness to share their stories, which taken together would create a portrait of the contemporary U.S. piano teacher.
The sonata: developing the big picture
Visualizing the picture conveyed by a musical composition helps guide my learning process. The picture may be evident from its title or an underlying story. Inspiration may come from listening to a concert performance or a recording; YouTube affords opportunities to listen to interpretations of different performers to gain a sense of the music. The interpretation of a piece or body of work may also be influenced by the life or socio-political context of the times of the composer. The noted pianist and teacher Leon Fleisher has suggested that the performer have three personae at all times. The first—Person A—hears, before striking a single note, exactly what they want. Fleisher further asserts that without a clear idea of what you’re going for, everything that happens is an accident (Fleisher & Midgette, 2011). The author’s Person A appears before sitting down at the piano; the other personae appear later, as described below. Setting out to study the fourth movement of the Schubert sonata, I began by asking: What is the picture or story I want to convey to my audience through the music?
The movement is marked allegretto. Listening to the piece and hearing the changes in repeated themes, with joy at the beginning and ups and downs as they mature, evoked images of a romantic journey. Whether or not this was precisely Schubert’s intent is open to speculation, but it offered a story to consider and reflect in my playing. My experience of the imagery and the story evolved with more intensive study and greater familiarity with the music. Ultimately, my interpretation of allegretto is slower than the typical performance, but given Schubert’s experience of unrequited love, illness, and early death (Brown & Sams, 1988), restraint seemed appropriate. Reading through the entire piece before proceeding to the in-depth work helped me to feel the flow, hear and set the music in my head, and solidify the guiding vision. Not all would agree with this approach, but that is a matter of one’s own process, learning style, and what works best to achieve the objective of playing beautifully.
Create manageable sections
With the big picture providing direction, the difficult work begins. What constitutes breaking down into manageable sections varies with the type of project, although all involve analysis and synthesis. Preparing an outline of a proposed book is a valuable approach to identifying the major components (e.g., chapters and key sections), organizing and synthesizing different types of information (e.g., quantitative and/or qualitative data and pertinent literature), and laying out the thought flow to tell a coherent story. Whether a lengthy multi-movement sonata or two-page Bach invention, a musical composition presents a story or image. Playing the piece includes analyzing what is on the paper—fingering, pedaling, and dynamics—and synthesizing that knowledge to be able to convey the story musically. Breaking down a composition, no matter what the length, into sections or subsections and using themes to identify logical breaks can facilitate the learning process.
Chapter by chapter: developing the story of the contemporary piano teacher
I began the process of writing my book by developing an outline of seven chapters, which, taken together, would present a portrait of today’s piano teacher, as viewed through a social science lens. The purpose of the first chapter was to situate the study within its socio-cultural and historical contexts, including describing the piano teacher of popular fiction and nonfiction, identifying requisites of piano teaching from historical pedagogical treatises, and laying out the methods used to obtain firsthand information about contemporary piano teachers. In the subsequent six chapters, I proposed exploring the information on the piano teacher gathered through the interviews. The overall picture, topics addressed, and manageable sections laid out in this outline remained constant, but the structure evolved. To enhance the academic rigor of the book, I reorganized the proposed first chapter into five chapters, comprising part one of the book. These chapters provided the basis for the analysis of the decision to become, becoming, and being a contemporary piano teacher, presented in the five chapters in part two. The changes, notwithstanding, the outline provided a manageable approach to the project.
Section by section: studying the sonata
Reflecting the advice presented at the beginning of this article—to practice as I write an article—I broke down the 14-page movement of the Schubert sonata into 5 manageable sections. Considering the recurrence and development of the themes in the music and with the guidance of my professor, we identified 4 subsections in addition to the final recapitulation of the primary theme and Presto. The big picture of a romantic journey remained but became more defined and refined. Each subsection suggested a season within the cycle of a romance—spring, summer with storms, fall, and winter—and then a restatement of the recurring theme (hope and lament) and final Presto—what the heck—back to the youthfulness of spring. Even with shorter pieces, creating smaller sections can facilitate the learning process.
Work within sections
While the detailed steps of section by section work may vary, depending on the product, the overall objectives are the same—accuracy and developing the story or image conveyed by the section. Writing chapters in order may be an effective and efficient approach, aiding the development of the logic flow; however, sometimes focusing on an “easier” chapter (i.e., one requiring less research, such as methods) out of sequence promotes momentum or provides a respite contributing to actual, or at least the feeling of, progress. Similarly, studying sections of a musical piece out of order, particularly later sections that often receive less attention, may facilitate the learning process. The analysis and synthesis within a section may require a further break down into smaller subsections and an iterative process—a repeated back and forth between subsections.
Working within a chapter
For each chapter, as with the book, I developed an outline, laying out the overall structure. Using the outline, I prepared a rough draft of the chapter, incorporating relevant information under the appropriate section heading—sometimes referred to as a “data dump.” Within each section, I developed, edited, reworded, and reedited paragraphs and sentences, even words. Keeping the discourse interesting and sustaining the flow was the challenge. Having an outline also facilitated my review of the content and logic flow of each chapter. I considered such questions as: Does the introduction lay out the content of the chapter clearly? Does the evidence lead, convincingly, to the conclusion? Is the story, presented within the chapter, clear and does it contribute to the construction of the overall message of the book?
Working within a section of music
Within each of the five sections, comprising the movement, I proceeded on two levels—the technical (e.g., fingering and pedaling) and the story. The second and third of Fleisher’s three personae, introduced above, play a role at this stage in the process (Fleisher & Midgette, 2011). Focusing on the technical suggests Person B—the player occupied with pressing the keys, attempting to achieve what A wants. I carefully scrutinized the markings—forte, pianissimo, crescendo; determined the most economical fingering; identified difficult passages requiring particular attention; ascertained the reason for any repeated wrong notes; and coordinated my pedaling and fingering to develop the desired sound and tone. My early music books were typically pristine; today, penciled-in notations, indicating preferred fingering and pedaling, cover the pages. Like Fleisher’s Person C—I sat a little apart, listening, judging, and trying to hear whether B was getting what A intended and helping B if not. My overriding question was: Does my performance of the section communicate the story or image I want to convey, the lightness and joy of spring or the drama of summer storms?
Construct the big picture
Whether a manuscript or musical composition to be performed, having worked through each section, it is time to recombine the sections. The objective is same: to ensure the flow within and across sections so that, taken together, the sections convey the story or desired image—the big picture. Stepping back from project at this point allows time to consider, with a critical eye or ear, whether I am conveying the story, as conceived. Having constructed the draft of the big picture, the actual process of revising and refining occurs during the next stage.
The book: creating the story
At this point in the writing process, I printed out all the chapters. I read the entire manuscript from the title page through the conclusion, without a red or blue pencil so as not to become caught in the details. My objective in writing the book was to create a portrait of the contemporary U.S. piano teacher. To do so, I explored contemporary fiction and nonfiction portraying the piano teacher, historical monographs, and relevant social science literature to set the context in part one and then related interviewees’ experiences, from their first interest in music to being a piano teacher, in part two. I stepped back as writer and tried to view the book through the eyes of a reader, asking: Do the chapters, taken together, tell the story? Does the book convey to the reader the portrait of the U.S. piano teacher, as I conceived it? Answering these questions, I began to identify necessary revisions. In addition, given the word limit requirement of my book contract, I set out to shorten the manuscript.
The sonata: conceiving the story
Recombining the sections, I played the movement in its entirety, from the beginning through the Presto. The German music pedagogue, Ludwig Deppe (1828–1890) would instruct his students to lay a piece aside, once it was fairly well learned, “to ripen” (Caland, 1903, p. 48). Stepping back from the music helps to hear more objectively and identify problem areas. Stepping back and listening as Fleisher’s third persona, I considered: Was what Person A wants achieved by Person B? Does my presentation of the movement convey to the listener the story, the image, which the music evokes in me? Does my performance communicate the different moods and the different seasons of the romance? If not, what is missing, what needs to be reworked or adjusted? Identifying sections to be reworked, recurring issues across sections, and missing elements of the story, I worked on my performance to communicate the story better.
Revise
Having constructed the big picture, essentially a draft of the manuscript or rehearsal performance, the next stage involves revising and refining so that the story, as conceived, is conveyed. Although the types of revisions and refinements vary according to the product, the broad questions considered, process, and tasks leading to achieving the final product are essentially the same. The creative process described in this article is iterative; there is, generally, a back and forth between the macro and the micro levels, the big picture and the sections, but especially during the revision stage.
The book: revising the manuscript
My overriding question, as I reviewed the draft manuscript, was: Have I successfully told the story? To make that determination, I reviewed the chapters, comprising each part, to identify gaps and repetition within each chapter; considered the flow between chapters within each part; and finally reviewed the manuscript, as a whole, for linkages and consistency across the two parts. Stepping back from time to time provided perspective and the chance to take a fresh look at the material. Throughout this stage I employed a variety of questions and techniques to identify issues and revisions within and across sections, parts, and the entire manuscript. Questions included: Does each chapter or part contribute to the overall story? Are there “weak” sections, substantively or in presentation, which require either additional information or editing? Is there unnecessary information that bogs down the section; if so, delete? Similarly, reviewing, together, the two chapters on being a contemporary piano teacher—professional life and qualities of a good piano teacher (Stolz, chapter 9) and piano teaching in practice (Stolz, chapter 10)—helped ensure that the presentations dovetailed but were not repetitive.
The sonata: revising the performance
Revising my performance of the Schubert, I began with the question: Will the listener feel the flow of the piece? Do the sections of the music flow from one to the other? Are the transitions between sections smooth? If not, take steps to ensure that they are. Are there still weak spots or consistent errors, requiring additional study or, perhaps a change in fingering? During this stage, my practicing alternated between playing the entire piece and focusing on combinations of subsections. Practicing combined subsections increased my stamina and concentration, as well as solidifying the transitions between sections. Practicing sections from last to first not only provided variety but also focused attention on the sometimes-neglected later sections of the piece. Listening to others perform the movement helped me to identify needed refinements and adjust or affirm my interpretation, not imitation. For example, listening sharpened my hearing of Schubert’s shifts in the melody between the treble and bass clefs, which helped ensure that my articulation of these shifts was clear. Listening to others perform, as Person C, also affirmed my decision to slow the tempo so that Person B could achieve what A intended—the story and feeling of a romance over four seasons.
The review and revision stage is intense. Having completed the revisions and refinements it is time for the final presentation.
Present
Culminating the creative process is the presentation of the endeavor to the audience, publishing or performing. The final question to consider is: Does the book or playing of the musical composition tell the story envisioned at the beginning of the creative process? In both writing and playing, there is a sense of relief and physical release—from the diaphragm, up through arms, to the fingers—encompassing one’s entire being. It is time to turn off Person C and accept the book as finished or just play the music beautifully and enjoy the satisfaction of accomplishment. Although seemingly different types of endeavors, the love of the subject and the desire to communicate the message are essential to the creation of beautiful writing and musical passages. The Irish poet, philosopher, and scholar, John O’ Donohue observed that “if you can love what you do, then you will do it beautifully.” Although you may not love it at first, “the deeper side of the soul can bring the light of love to what you do . . . Then, regardless of what you do, you will do it in a creative and transforming way” (O’Donohue, 2004, p. 159)
Discussion
The purpose of a self-study is to improve professional practice settings, not only for oneself but others. The impetus for my pursuing this study was the search for an answer to the question: How might the creative process used in writing transfer to the study of a musical composition? By analyzing and demonstrating the transferability of the creative process in practice, through a self-study, I hoped to develop insight into my own creative process and help performers, teachers, and students of music to identify their personal creative process. Intuitively, we may know how to, but do we actually understand what our creative process entails? Moving from the intuitive and haphazard, the creative process becomes conscious—deliberative and deliberate.
Studying my own creative process has enhanced both my writing and study of music. Although the starting point for this analysis was my writing process, one that I had used for decades, specifically laying out the process has enabled me to apply it more consciously, deliberatively, and deliberately to new projects, including this article. The comparison of my writing process to that which I used to study a musical composition not only evidenced the similarities between the two but also helped me to hone my application of the process. As a result, my work on new pieces is more disciplined and efficient. Understanding my process has also enabled me to engage my professor in more in-depth discussions about the study of a particular piece. My playing has improved, and I seem to be less stressed. As my current professor has read this paper, I know he agrees with this assessment.
Given the demands on the contemporary musician to pursue more than one professional path, understanding how one’s creative process is transferrable across endeavors and fields is essential to sustaining a career in music and continuing to pass on the traditions through teaching. Accordingly, the first question I would pose to each reader is: What is your creative process and how do or might you apply it to different types of endeavor? Despite individual differences in process, the questions laid out in this article should provide the starting point for this analysis. Having identified one’s process the next question to be considered is: How can my process for studying and playing music be transferred to writing, administration, or other endeavor?
Writing a book, learning a piece of music, establishing or restructuring a music program, and adapting performing and teaching music to the web-based venues and tools all involve a big picture and detailed analysis. Breaking larger components into smaller manageable ones, working on subsections, recombining sections to construct the bigger picture, revisions, and final presentation are all, in some way, elements of the creative process involved in pursing such endeavors. Understanding their personal creative process and the role of each stage should facilitate the reader’s pursuit of new and different endeavors, which contribute to the music profession, by expediting the learning process and hopefully mitigating difficulties.
Understanding the creative process is also important to the personal development of the teacher. Having decided to teach piano, becoming a piano teacher requires learning how and some preparation. Interviewees identified a confluence of factors that contributed to their teaching approach, including early and later teachers, peers and colleagues, tradition, and formal and informal pedagogical training (Stolz, 2020, chapter 8). When responding to the changing demands of the music profession, generally, and teaching piano, specifically, interviewees considered experience to be the greatest teacher. Teaching music continues on-line. Discussing such changes, a long-time teacher of piano underscored the need to preserve the level of quality of music using these new tools. Paying attention to one’s creative process is indispensable to doing so successfully.
As an educator, the piano teacher also has the responsibility to communicate the message of adaptation and adjustment to their students to help them identify their personal process to pursue their musical journey. Noting that most piano students will not become professional musicians, the piano teachers interviewed for my book observed that the skills and discipline learned studying music could be transferred and applied to whatever career the student pursued. That is, the rewards of early studies extend to the very process of learning. Accordingly, it is essential that the teacher not only understand each student’s learning process but convey to the student that this process can be transferred to other fields. As for the adult learner, whether a new, returning, or continuing music student, focusing on experiences outside of the study of music may be more productive, given that early music lessons and first teachers are often not the best models and approaches to teaching piano have changed. Whether the student is a child or adult, a piano lesson via Zoom or FaceTime is different; nevertheless, as a piano student, I can attest that learning and experiencing the feeling of making beautiful music are possible in this new environment.
Conclusion
While the need to pursue more than one path to sustain a career in music is not new, the demands on performance and teaching posed by the current and post pandemic environment have exacerbated this challenge for many musicians. In this paper, I assert that understanding one’s creative process should facilitate the conscious, deliberate, and systematic application of that process to other endeavors. By comparing the process I used to write my book on piano and learn the Schubert sonata, I demonstrate the transferability of the creative process, by way of example.
Exploring the questions raised in this article should assist a performer, teacher, or student to identify their personal creative process. Having identified their process, their challenge is to apply this knowledge in the pursuit of creative endeavors in other areas, such as writing. Drawing on their personal creative process, performers will continue to share music through podcasts and YouTube; teachers will continue the tradition of the one-on-one lesson, on-line. Writing about these new experiences will assist others to employ these new ways of sharing music. While the hope is that concert halls and opera houses will reopen and in-person lessons will return, the new modes of performing and teaching have become part of the arsenal for sharing music. Accordingly, learning how to navigate this new environment and applying one’s creative process to new endeavors is essential to sustain a career in music.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
With deepest appreciation to Dr. Andrew Harley, who triggered the questions about my creative process; Dr. Carlos Cesar Rodriguez, who worked closely with me as I developed the book, studied the Schubert sonata, and prepared this article; and Blair Ruble and Ruth Nielsen-Jones, who read drafts and provided comments. Special thanks to my friend Eva Irrera, whose porch became my library carrel during the pandemic. I am indebted to you all.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
