05/05/25

If It Matters, Measure It

One thing I clearly remember from my childhood is how my father was always a hands-on guy, I guess you could say "handy" is the better way to put it.

But the results were rather curious.

Like the first time he installed a floppy disk on my computer ...

... upside down.

And as I walk around my home there's the door that doesn't quite shut right, the faucet in the kitchen sink that doesn't quite retract correctly, the towel rack that doesn't quite stay securely in place.

It's still better than nothing and even if I didn't want him to do this, how do you explain to a sensitive man - who happens to be your dad - that you wish he would please stop fixing your things?

In all my years teaching piano, one problem has been universal:

Counting rhythm.

The longer notes especially present a challenge, as if each added beat dramatically increases the difficulty.

In most cases the student isn't even aware of this because:
a. she doesn't try
b. she's not practicing enough
c. she's not regularly listening to music
d. any combination of the above

Even the ones who attempt to conscientiously count the beats end up failing:

"I was really doing it though!"

I then feign a look of SHOCK:

"Really?! Tell me how!"

The problem becomes evident with the counter-reply:

"In my head."

This is not a good idea, illustrated by the following hypothetical scenario:

If you're like me, you'll remember the first time you ever heard yourself on audio or saw yourself on camera - meaning that you immediately cringed. If not ... well then congratulations for having a wonderful self esteem that seems to elude 99% of the general population (you big fat liar).

Why does this happen? Why is the cold, hard substantiation so vastly different from what you imagine?

Because your mind actively lies to you.

Okay, maybe lie isn't the correct word here. Your brain is basically programmed to take the low hanging fruit every chance it gets. Don't blame it for this, it's a survival mechanism (our ancient "software" so to speak hasn't been updated for modern times).

The result is that you are naturally predisposed to avoid anything remotely challenging (see: exercise, books, broccoli) and/or even the truth (see: scales, mirrors, bank account statements).

Two additional ways to put it - bad habits feel good and good habits feel bad, brain sees shortcut brain takes shortcut (negative longterm consequences be damned).

A third additional way to put it - what you see is all there is (extrapolate this to hearing).

This is why the student who diligently wants to improve her rhythm must count out loud, while feeling intense resistance (counting feels bad, shortcut = stop counting) towards this very act.

Even then, complete accuracy will still elude the student. For instance, she might count quarter notes as half notes.

For you laymen, this is like counting one second as two (as in how you extend each descending number during a countdown when you're really mad at your dog but you really want him to listen to you).

No, for absolute exactness the music student has to go one step further and use the dreaded metronome.

Only with accurate measuring instruments do you get the results that have been eluding you. But even then, there won't be much improvement if it doesn't matter to you.

...

I definitely knew what mattered to my grandfather:

Detail.

It was evident in the beautiful calligraphy he brushed across the page (for years I didn't know the artwork that hung in his living room was his own), the perfect woodwork he created in his workshop (he made the pristine counters that were present in the lobby of my father's first dry cleaners).

[Side note: I always wondered why my father lacked this precision, I can only hypothesize it played an unimportant role in his attempt to unsuccessfully catch up to his own father's shadow (thankfully, I gave up the chase a long time ago).]

If you were to ever observe me at work, you'd quickly notice what matters:

My time.

And I wouldn't need to say a single word, merely show you the hundreds of piecharts over the years and the various tools I use to track my minutes (while you thought to yourself what a weeeeeeeirdo).

In any case, if something truly truly truly matters to you, then for the love of God ...

... measure it.

Cheers.

If It Matters, Measure It

One thing I clearly remember from my childhood is how my father was always a hands-on guy, I guess you could say "handy" is the better way to put it.

But the results were rather curious.

Like the first time he installed a floppy disk on my computer ...

... upside down.

And as I walk around my home there's the door that doesn't quite shut right, the faucet in the kitchen sink that doesn't quite retract correctly, the towel rack that doesn't quite stay securely in place.

It's still better than nothing and even if I didn't want him to do this, how do you explain to a sensitive man - who happens to be your dad - that you wish he would please stop fixing your things?

In all my years teaching piano, one problem has been universal:

Counting rhythm.

The longer notes especially present a challenge, as if each added beat dramatically increases the difficulty.

In most cases the student isn't even aware of this because:a. she doesn't tryb. she's not practicing enoughc. she's not regularly listening to musicd. any combination of the above

Even the ones who attempt to conscientiously count the beats end up failing:

"I was really doing it though!"

I then feign a look of SHOCK:

"Really?! Tell me how!"

The problem becomes evident with the counter-reply:

"In my head."

This is not a good idea, illustrated by the following hypothetical scenario:

If you're like me, you'll remember the first time you ever heard yourself on audio or saw yourself on camera - meaning that you immediately cringed. If not ... well then congratulations for having a wonderful self esteem that seems to elude 99% of the general population (you big fat liar).

Why does this happen? Why is the cold, hard substantiation so vastly different from what you imagine?

Because your mind actively lies to you.

Okay, maybe lie isn't the correct word here. Your brain is basically programmed to take the low hanging fruit every chance it gets. Don't blame it for this, it's a survival mechanism (our ancient "software" so to speak hasn't been updated for modern times).

The result is that you are naturally predisposed to avoid anything remotely challenging (see: exercise, books, broccoli) and/or even the truth (see: scales, mirrors, bank account statements).

Two additional ways to put it - bad habits feel good and good habits feel bad, brain sees shortcut brain takes shortcut (negative longterm consequences be damned).

A third additional way to put it - what you see is all there is (extrapolate this to hearing).

This is why the student who diligently wants to improve her rhythm must count out loud, while feeling intense resistance (counting feels bad, shortcut = stop counting) towards this very act.

Even then, complete accuracy will still elude the student. For instance, she might count quarter notes as half notes.

For you laymen, this is like counting one second as two (as in how you extend each descending number during a countdown when you're really mad at your dog but you really want him to listen to you).

No, for absolute exactness the music student has to go one step further and use the dreaded metronome.

Only with accurate measuring instruments do you get the results that have been eluding you. But even then, there won't be much improvement if it doesn't matter to you.

I definitely knew what mattered to my grandfather:

Detail.

It was evident in the beautiful calligraphy he brushed across the page (for years I didn't know the artwork that hung in his living room was his own), the perfect woodwork he created in his workshop (he made the pristine counters that were present in the lobby of my father's first dry cleaners).

[Side note: I always wondered why my father lacked this precision, I can only hypothesize it played an unimportant role in his attempt to unsuccessfully catch up to his own father's shadow (thankfully, I gave up the chase a long time ago).]

If you were to ever observe me at work, you'd quickly notice what matters:

My time.

And I wouldn't need to say a single word, merely show you the hundreds of piecharts over the years and the various tools I use to track my minutes (while you thought to yourself what a weeeeeeeirdo).

In any case, if something truly truly truly matters to you, then for the love of God ...

... measure it.

Cheers.

Everything Happens At The Right Time

Hold The Line

In most cases the student isn't even aware of this because:
a. she doesn't try
b. she's not practicing enough
c. she's not regularly listening to music
d. any combination of the above