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It’s so disappointing when you see a bunch of instrumentalists walk on stage and you already know how a piece is going to sound…

Jack Sheen, composer & conductor (interview in VAN magazine)

We live in a visual world, never more so now with platforms like Instagram and TikTok feeding us images in an endless churn. Yet perhaps we forget that we don’t just hear a concert; we also see it. Today, how musicians present themselves is more important than ever. When performers walk onto a stage, the moment is a critical transition that sets the energy for the entire performance.

The visual dimension of live musical performance is incredibly significant to the audience’s experience. Before a single note is played, audiences begin forming expectations. From the moment the musicians come onto stage, they are already communicating with the audience. Posture, facial expression, energy, and clothing all speak volumes. So, if performers appear disengaged, rigid, or overly uniform, the audience anticipates a performance that may be equally lifeless or predictable. In contrast, expressive, intentional and confident body language can signal vitality, emotional depth, and interpretive individuality. In both instances, the audience’s expectations are set up before the music begins.

The disappointment referenced in the quote above stems from this sense of predictability: if performers look uninspired, listeners expect uninspired sound. Conversely, confident posture, purposeful movement, and engaged facial expression convey commitment and readiness. The violinist who breathes with a phrase or the pianist whose gestures reflect the arc of the melody communicates intention. These physical cues help bring the music to life and demonstrate that the performer is not merely executing notes but also embodying them, literally.

When I was a piano teacher, particularly when preparing students for their exams or other performance events, no matter their age or ability level, I would help them understand the importance of “stagecraft” and “presence”. These were skills which I taught myself when I was preparing for professional performance diplomas in my late 40s, having not had formal conservatoire training, and I learnt a lot by observing performers in concerts. A performer who enters the stage smiling, or at least looking pleased to be there, greets the audience with a bow or a few words to introduce the programme, immediately sets the expectation that the performance will be engaging and enjoyable.

One of the best examples of this, in my mind, is the pianist Angela Hewitt. With her broad smile and perfectly applied lipstick, not to mention a beautiful concert dress, she comes onto the stage looking as if she can’t wait to share the music with the audience. Not only does her body language convey pleasure, but it also instils confidence in the audience.

When helping my piano students understand the importance of body language and stage presence, I would ask them to “come on stage” from the hallway of my home, into the main room where my piano lived. The younger children enjoyed the “game” of this exercise and the “acting” or role-playing (of which more later) it entailed. The older ones would take it more seriously; all, I think, understood the usefulness of this exercise.

“Walk confidently and smile at the examiner when you enter the exam room,” I would say to my students. Not only is this a friendly gesture, but it also helps settle nerves. And this is another significant aspect of body language and stage presence: as performers, especially those of us who struggle with nerves or performance anxiety, our body language and demeanour can help us feel more confident, which, in turn, can influence our performance.

Performance is, in part, an act. Some acting and “playing the part” is integral to good stagecraft, but authenticity matters more than spectacle. Overly dramatic gestures can seem insincere, while stillness can suggest detachment. The goal is balance: visible expression should match the musical character. For example, a solemn adagio may require stillness and inward focus, but that stillness should feel intentional, not disengaged.

Ultimately, the opening quote underscores that musical performance is as much about presence as precision. Before a note sounds, performers tell a story through their bearing. When their body language promises energy and communication, the audience anticipates a memorable experience. Body language is a vital component of meaningful musical performance.

Evgeny Kissin

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Don’t legalise music theft!

More than 1000 musicians have come together to release a silent album protesting the UK government’s planned changes to copyright law, which will make it easier to train AI models on copyrighted work without a licence.

The album, titled Is This What We Want?, features recordings of empty studios and performance spaces, representing the impact on artists’ and music professionals’ livelihoods that is expected if the government does not change course.

Under the heavily criticised proposals, UK copyright law would be upended to benefit global tech giants. AI companies would be free to use an artist’s work to train their AI models without permission or remuneration. The government’s proposed changes would require artists to proactively ‘opt-out’ from the theft of their work – reversing the very principle of copyright law. ‘Opt-out’ models are near impossible to enforce, have yet to be proven effective anywhere else in the world, and place enormous burdens on artists, particularly emerging talent.

The album is co-written by more than 1000 musicians, including Kate Bush, Annie Lennox, Damon Albarn, Billy Ocean, Ed O’Brien, Dan Smith, The Clash, Mystery Jets, Jamiroquai, Imogen Heap, Yusuf / Cat Stevens, Riz Ahmed, Tori Amos, Hans Zimmer, James MacMillan, Max Richter, John Rutter, The Kanneh-Masons, The King’s Singers, The Sixteen, Roderick Williams, Sarah Connolly, Nicky Spence, Ian Bostridge, and many more. The group includes recording artists, composers, conductors, singers, and producers, and features winners of Oscars, GRAMMYs and BRIT awards.

The track listing spells out a simple message: “The British government must not legalise music theft to benefit AI companies.”

In 2023, UK music contributed a record £7.6 billion to the economy with exports of UK music reaching £4.6 billion. Under proposed changes to UK copyright law, the government risks diminishing music’s proven economic success, extinguishing jobs in the music industry and undermining Britain’s global soft-power advantage.

Ed Newton-Rex, the organiser of the album, said: “The government’s proposal would hand the life’s work of the country’s musicians to AI companies, for free, letting those companies exploit musicians’ work to outcompete them. It is a plan that would not only be disastrous for musicians, but that is totally unnecessary: the UK can be leaders in AI without throwing our world-leading creative industries under the bus. This album shows that, however the government tries to justify it, musicians themselves are united in their thorough condemnation of this ill-thought-through plan.”

Kate Bush, one of the artists involved in the album said: “In the music of the future, will our voices go unheard?”

Composer, pianist and producer Max Richter, one of the artists involved in the album, said: “The government’s proposals would impoverish creators, favouring those automating creativity over the people who compose our music, write our literature, paint our art.”

Singer-songwriter Naomi Kimpenu, one of the artists involved in the album, said: “I fear that we will become the last generation of artists that can build careers in UK music. We cannot be abandoned by the government and have our work stolen for the profit of Big Tech. These proposals will shatter the prospects of so many emerging artists in the UK. If AI steals the rewards of creativity, it destroys that creativity. The government’s plan would be a dystopian future no one voted for, and we must choose a different path.”

All profits from the album will be donated to the musicians’ charity Help Musicians. The full list of musicians and groups involved can be seen at
https://www.isthiswhatwewant.com/ which will be live from the time of album launch.

[Source: press release]

#IsThisWhatWeWant?

Help raise awareness by sharing the album and its message with friends and colleagues, and around your network. Use the hashtage #IsThisWhatWeWant? when sharing on social media.

Write to your MP to protest the government’s planned changes to copyright law.

isthiswhatwewant.com

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The following Japanese terms are all about warding off laziness and boosting motivation plus tips for embracing the concept of doing your best. They are useful as general rules for life; here I have interpreted them for the benefit of musicians:

Ikigai

Have a purpose in life

Ikigai comes from two words – Iki meaning life, and Gai which describes your value or worth. It’s the reason you wake up each morning, what drives you, and what gives you fulfilment and purpose in life.

For the musician, this probably seems obvious – music is your purpose. Whether you’re a professional or an amateur musician, if you genuinely love and care about music, pursue it with passion.

Kaizen

Making small improvements, every day

This is particularly helpful for musicians in their daily practising/training and is a useful reminder that achievable goals and slow gains are, ultimately, more motivating, meaningful and personally fulfilling than striving for perfection from the outset. We tend to define achievement through one significant moment – learning a whole page or movement of a piece of music, for example – and underestimate the value of making small improvements on a daily basis which accumulate to create a significant whole. Recognizing and celebrating small milestones and achievements is an important aspect of Kaizen. Musicians should acknowledge their progress, which can be a motivating factor to continue improving.

Shoshin

Beginner’s mindset

“I am a beginner. I am always learning” – Fou Ts’ong, pianist (1934-2020)

Shoshin encourages approaching tasks with an open, eager, and non-judgmental mindset. In the context of the musician, this may include: openness to learning; abandoning preconceptions and biases; embracing and learning from mistakes; curiosity and creativity; humility.

By applying shoshin, musicians can maintain a sense of wonder and enthusiasm in their musical journey, leading to ongoing growth and a deeper connection with their art.

Fou Ts’ong

Ganbaru

Doing your best / persevering

Ganbaru conveys the idea of doing one’s best, putting in maximum effort, and persevering through challenges. It’s about pushing yourself to your limits and never giving up, even when the going gets tough. For musicians, applying ganbaru may involve: diligent, deliberate practice; resilience; commitment to excellence; consistency; maintaining a positive attitude.

Ganbaru encourages musicians to work tirelessly to achieve their musical aspirations and reach their highest potential.

Nintai

Patience and perseverence

Patience is a virtue in Japanese culture. It’s also a very useful attribute for musicians to cultivate! When applied to musicians, nintai may include:

  1. Having a long-term Perspective: Musicians should appreciate that mastering their art is a gradual process and be patient in their development.
  2. Endurance: They must persevere through challenges, setbacks, and plateaus in their musical journey.
  3. Staying Committed: Nintai encourages musicians to stay dedicated to their practice and goals, even when progress seems slow.
  4. Respect for the Process: Appreciating the value of each step and the learning process itself is essential.

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Guest post by Jill Timmons, DMA

A number of years ago, my editor at the Oregon Musician* asked me to write on the topic of invisible work as it relates to performance and teaching. The dog days of summer were winding down and concert season was about to unfold. Students and teachers were returning to their academic schedules, and as my editor suggested, it might be a timely topic to explore how invisible work undergirds our careers as artists and educators.

I found myself pondering for days this notion of invisible work as it relates to the creative process. What is central to the lives of artists and teachers can be elusive in terms of a precise definition. Here in the distant outpost of the music industry, artists and educators devote vast amounts of time to their craft, a large portion of which often goes unrecognized. It’s a little like an iceberg. The visible part might be our public performances, reviews, recordings, publications, workshops, residencies, and the list goes on. As an educator, one’s professional persona can include students in recitals, auditions, competitions, master classes, service to the profession, and so forth. These are the public events, the actions we take that others see, and those tangible results that are evident. But this all hints at something deeper. Like all icebergs, the bulk of the structure lies hidden beneath the surface. For musicians, this is at the heart of our invisible but essential work. It contains our long-term commitment to study, to practice, and to the formal education that often begins in childhood. It requires a sustained and passionate devotion to the art. There are countless hours of practice, lessons, master classes, years of higher education, mentors, finding the right teacher, and a search for that cadre of like-minded folks pursuing their own pilgrimage into music. It’s all invisible work.

As artists and educators, we know experientially about this unseen and often solitary work. I am not writing about anything that is a mystery or an unknown. On the other hand, what is mysterious is how we convey this understanding and application of invisible work to our students and our audiences. Without the invisible work, there is no true encounter with music let alone a career. In an age when a student might win a contest with the same four pieces they have played for years, or when loud and fast is modelled by performances that feature theatrics and histrionics as new realms of performance practice, it is little wonder that our young people today may be short on time in the “invisible world.”

Invisible work has its own demands: blocks of uninterrupted time, a quiet space, self-reflection, study (not just drilling the notes!), scholarship, and countless hours alone with your instrument. You become the measure of your work and your mastery of the music, and it is you that know in that private way the struggles, the triumphs, and the arduous trek to fluency. This is why great teachers are the ones who offer a language and wisdom about the nature and necessity of invisible work. Without it, there is no artistry.

As teachers, we can validate and encourage the invisible work of our students. From our experience, we can offer a road map for this temporal and elusive terrain, confirming the power and necessity of this work. In our culture of instant gratification and unrelenting distraction, we can serve as a guide to our students into that private world of exploration, study, preparation, and mastery. If they are lucky, our students will encounter not only great musical works but also themselves. As teachers this is our invisible work.

From my vantage point, the biggest impediment facing artists, regardless of age, is the quantitative approach to life. It’s that insatiable appetite for more. For our young students it can take the form of more after-school activities, more extracurricular pursuits, more awards, ribbons, contests, trophies, you name it. Pile it up for that résumé. And I am not speaking of just young people. For professionals in the field, it can be an unquenchable thirst for more concerts, residencies, workshops, students, publications, degrees, accolades, piled higher and deeper. But more is not an indication of quality – it’s just an amount. Quality, conversely, is the result of invisible work, and invisible work requires time. Think of Einstein’s theory of relativity. As an unknown patent clerk, he laboured over that construct for years. There was nothing remarkable on the surface. But underneath was a reservoir of imagination, original thought, brilliance, courage, and invisible work. Einstein forever changed our notion of the universe.

Not all students, however, subscribe to Einstein’s model of how essential invisible work is to mastery and original thought. For those students who believe that volume is equated with excellence, a word of caution. The music profession has its own rules. The world of artistry and the gateway into the profession requires, first and foremost, quality. Only the depth of your artistry, and your integrity and wisdom in service to the music will sustain a career. It takes years to have entrance into this world and the price of admission is invisible work.

Years ago, I encountered a wildly talented student who could sightread just about anything in the advanced piano repertoire. And with a little practice, she could cobble together something approaching performance level. She had an extraordinary gift. For her, however, music was all about the tip of the iceberg – being on stage, tearing through “big pieces,” dazzling the audience, and so forth. It was a challenge to convey to her that without that invisible work of practice hours, lessons, going to a deeper level with her music, and cleaning up the technical fluffs, she would not reap that true reward – a deep and informed connection to composers and their music. It was many years into her professional training before she grasped in an experiential way the power of developing her invisible work.

Over the course of my life, I have been drawn to invisible work. It’s my joy and my passion. And while I relish the tip of the iceberg from time to time, it is the private labour that gives me the greatest reward and exhilaration. I continue to search for ways to convey this rich experience to my students. In addition to “iceberg,” there are a lot of “i” words connected with invisible work: intrinsic, illusive, interesting, illustrative, intuitive, integral, intriguing, illuminating, independent, to mention a few. These might be useful words to weave into our teaching as we enlighten our students and audiences about the power and impact of invisible work. Now that Fall is nearly upon us and as we return to our performance and teaching schedules, invisible work can continue to serve as the underpinning of our efforts. It’s a great time to reflect on what that means for each of us.

*Online scholarly journal for the Oregon Music Teachers Association—MTNA). Excerpts reprinted from Jill Timmons with permission from the Oregon Musician © 2016.

**For more information and an in-depth narrative, see my recent publication, The Musician’s Journey, Second Edition (Oxford University Press, 2023). https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-musicians-journey-second-edition-9780197578520