Do we even know what the right notes should be?

I recently reviewed The Perfect Wrong Note by William Westney.  As I was reading the book, I started to mentally join several other dots too.  One of these dots was that quite often, not only do I play wrong notes, I often don’t even know what the right notes should be – even in music I supposedly know very well!  

What is the ‘right note’?

Playing wrong notes is something I’m sure we all do.  Indeed, they will almost certainly be present as we first start to learn something.  This, in itself, is very understandable as often we’re still ‘learning the notes’. However, they can also keep cropping up in music where we believed we ‘learned the notes’ long ago!  

For example, I have played Debussy’s Clair de Lune since I was a teenager.  I’ve done a tutorial video on it and one of the most popular articles I have written was suggestions on how to practice it.  Therefore, theoretically, this fit into the category of a piece that I know intimately.  

Now, to a certain extent, this is certainly true.  After all, I wouldn’t be able to play it – even imperfectly – if I didn’t know it.  However, and this is where it gets interesting, I have often noticed that when I play a ‘wrong note’, if I stop myself and think, I don’t actually know what the ‘right note’ should have been. 

A failing of muscle memory

In a way, it’s perhaps not as surprising as that.  Many of us are unable to start a piece from any point we wish.  Often, if we go wrong, the only thing we can do is go backwards to a previous point and restart from there.  This, then, points to the fact that we’re relying on our muscle (or procedural) memory to play.  Not, of course, that there is anything fundamentally ‘wrong’ about that.  Ultimately, our brains evolved this ability as a way of putting tasks on more of an auto pilot rather than needing conscious concentration.

However, if we do make a random mistake and then simply repeat the passage hoping we’ll then get it right, doesn’t that sound more like we’re relying on good luck rather than good management?  If our muscle memory let us down last time, why is it likely to correct itself without a conscious effort on our part!

Even the hand seems to know it doesn’t know!

Another thing I’ve noticed is that sometimes – especially when badly landing on a chord following a jump – when I land and look at my fingers, I can clearly see that they not targeted against specific keys.  They are just randomly lying on the keys.  Often, they’re even completely flat! So it’s hardly surprising that what I got was a jumble of wrong notes.  Again, if I question myself in such circumstances, I will often realize that I actually don’t know what chord I’m supposed to be playing.  So, again, if I simply repeat the passage then why will I get a different result?

Changing Fingering

Yet another odd phenomenon I have noticed happens when I decide I want to change a fingering scheme for something that I’ve discovered is likely to work better.  I often need to go back to the score to find what notes I need to play.  Yet, theoretically I should have been able to do this without so doing as it is a passage that I can already play ‘from memory’.  Anecdotally, Heinrich Neuhaus in his book The Art of Piano Playing mentioned that as he aged, in certain circumstances fingering schemes he had used all his life started to become unreliable for him.  He would then often change his fingering ‘on the fly’ if he were, say, in a room that was a little too cold.  Clearly, then, he knew his music on a much more intimate level than I seem to.

So, what are we to do about it?

Take a step back

First, for any piece that we are ‘maintaining’, we should regularly go back to ‘practice mode’ with it.  By this, I mean not simply play it through, but actually take it apart again.  This is something that I have done for a while in fact when I put a piece on my ‘maintenance’ list.  (I have a set list of pieces I’m learning and another of pieces I want to keep ‘in my fingers’).  When I practice these pieces I first start off using whatever strategies I used when I first learned them.  So, for example, I might work on certain sections with rhythms, I might work on others using simplified versions.  If I devised little exercises out of certain phrases, then I’ll again practice these exercises.

Indeed, we often hear that concert pianists will regularly practice something slowly even right before a concert. I believe that one reason is this interrupts muscle memory and forces us in a much more conscious manner.  

Indeed, in his book The Perfect Wrong Note, William Westney talks about an ‘account credit that we spend with every run through’.  Paraphrasing, the more often we simply play through, the more of this credit we use up until eventually it starts going wrong.  Thus, the only way to ‘top up’ that account is to go back to the ‘work’ stage.

Think ten times, play once

The second thing I think we can do is to never simply ‘try again’ after we play something incorrectly.  I think many of us fall into the trap of thinking that we’re only practising when we’re pressing the keys. Certainly, I’m often guilty as charged! 

Indeed, we often hear words such as ‘drilling’ used to describe piano practice. This then probably pushes us to try again immediately in a bid to maximise the time we are ‘pressing the keys’.  However, I’m convinced that in fact we should first ask ourselves ‘what exactly did we get wrong’?  Of the notes we played, which were correct and which weren’t.  Next, if we can identify the wrong note(s), then what is the right one(s)?  Only when we’ve been through this thought process should we re-try.

If, after having thought, we’re not actually sure, then perhaps when we do try again we should be consciously ‘expecting’ the mistake and ensuring we’re fully switched on to capture exactly what it is!

Ironically, I published a YouTube video some years ago after I had recorded an entire practice session and found myself basically simply repeating passages incorrectly time after time – probably thinking I was ‘drilling’ them and they’d eventually come good!

Give this a try for yourself next time you’re playing through something you believe you know well.  When you go wrong, stop and ask yourself do you actually know what ‘right’ should be!  You might be as surprised as I was to discover that often this isn’t the case!

Happy practising!