The Tortoise way

We’ve all heard the saying, “Slow and steady wins the race.”

It’s a memorable image: the speedy hare runs all over the place, and when the steady turtle crosses the finish line, the hare isn’t there. But how do we help our kids achieve that kind of steadiness? Students tend to go the pace they go, despite what we adults tell them. They’re much more likely to run all over the place. How do we slow them down in the right way?

The Tortoise Way

A student who I’ll call “Simon” recently was about to graduate from a Suzuki book. “This isn’t for real,” he said, “until I do these pieces properly.”

Like the tortoise, Simon did not want to move on before playing each piece well, from memory with a sense of solidity. There were many times when I was tempted to move him on, tiring of hearing the same old mistakes, the same old issues, some of which stubbornly refused to be solved. But lesson after lesson, week after week, he kept at it.

Over time, Simon developed a depth and poise in his playing. Pieces that only weeks earlier felt like houses built with sticks, now felt like they were firmly established. AND, what’s more, he could play them fast! Simon has bought into the Tortoise Way.

Slow is faster

As Itzhak Perlman said, “The slower you practice, the faster you learn.” Going slow speeds you up? This is quite paradoxical, when you think about it.

When you take things slowly, your brain has time to catch up. There is a way to balance movement forward with the right pace, so that you naturally speed up at the right time.

Perhaps we should think not of the tortoise beating the hare, but of slowly becoming the hare. As he works at a natural pace he will gradually assume an ability to go faster.

I’ve seen students play fantastically fast (sometimes faster than I even can), but ONLY after they have spent many weeks practicing slowly, and only if they are practicing a piece right at their level, and not skipping ahead.

Redefining progress

A colleague once told me she likes to skip over Books Two and Three in the Suzuki Violin School method, because, well, why not? If taught correctly, with the right kind of energy and gusto, students ought to be able to learn the notes in Book Four sooner. And wouldn’t that be a thing!

But this is like the hare running and running, on to the next piece before the last one was really learned. A slower pace of new repertoire allows for a deeper level of absorption of all the complex technical and musical skills.

If the goal is to play with better tone, better technique, and more solidity in pieces, then it doesn’t matter which book you are on, or how long it takes you to graduate it.

This is a redefinition of progress: mastering a craft, little by little, over a long period of time, rather than proving a point to satisfy one’s ego in the short term.

What the Tortoise Way is not

It is worth taking a few moments to point out what I don’t mean by the Tortoise Way.

The Tortoise Way is not:

• Perfectionism - getting each and every note 100% correct

• The curse of the single piece - getting stuck on Twinkle for a year

• Playing a piece too slowly that naturally wants to go faster

• Lethargic playing

• Apathetic practice without deadlines or any sense of expectation

The Tortoise still needs to be paced, with goals and accountability. He isn’t lazy! But the issue isn’t being lazy, it’s actually being uncomfortable with mistakes.

Perfectionism--the real culprit

Perfectionism always lurks behind impatience. If it isn’t perfect, we think, let’s speed up and get it over with. Our mistakes feel uncomfortable, so we want to do something else--anything else--rather than feel that.

The Tortoise Way embraces mistakes. It is actually the opposite of perfectionism. It wants to slow down and probe the mistake, find out what shape the mistake took, look at what’s really there. That’s the only way to solve it, or dissolve it, so to move through it and onward.

Accepting mistakes prevents the kind of “get it over with” attitude that lies underneath the hare’s speediness.

The goal is not to get the notes over with. When the student has this attitude, that is a sure sign they are playing something too difficult and out of reach of their natural level of enjoyment. They are avoiding the feeling of discomfort.

Three forms of Tortoise energy

The “slowness” of the Tortoise comes in three forms:

1. Practicing slowly

2. Pacing your repertoire

3. Probing mistakes

By practicing slowly, we let our brains catch up and adapt to what is being asked.

By pacing the repertoire we are letting our natural ability shine, rather than getting distracted by the shiny object of a difficult piece that is out of reach, we can attain mastery of the one in front of us. This is more satisfying for everyone!

By probing mistakes (instead of ignoring or denying them), we not only accept ourselves and our real ability, we can learn what is necessary to solve the problem and move beyond it.

All three involve a willingness to redefine progress around artistic mastery rather than mere racing to be first. When we do this, we also let in the “hare energy”, but at a much higher and more refined level.

“Slow turtle energy,” Simon said. “That’s the ticket!” Let’s all take a cue from him, and bring that steady pacing into our teaching, practicing, and parenting.