The Thinking Pianist: a course in musical freedom

Premiering “Modal Tangos” by Alexander LaFollett with Molly Wheeler

The hands aren’t separate from the body. The body isn’t separate from the mind. The heart and soul of an artist doesn’t exist apart from every note they play. Yet most classical pianists receive training that separates the act of making music from the totality of the person. We focus on tone production, fingering, interpretation, and arm weight. We work on technical exercises, drill repertoire, and learn how to manage playing for others. But all but the most integrated of us leave other issues of the body and psyche out of music making. Eventually this backfires. When it does, we’re forced to work with who we are on all levels, not just our hands. And we’re faced with the choice of finding a healthier way to make music or walking away completely.

I recently attended The Thinking Pianist—a week long course at Cheltenham Ladies’ College in Cheltenham, England. Given the rigidity of my experiences in classical music, it’s a course I never would have signed up for without the recommendation of composer and pianist Garreth Brooke. Those of us who studied music in university have stories of competition, hierarchical rankings, and back-biting behavior—a place where failures (to borrow a phrase from pianist and author Stephen Hough) “…whisper through the unforgiving corridors of musical bitchdom…” Given how long it took me to undo the damage of being steeped in that environment, I required assurances that this course might be different—that it was holistic, and not just in a window-dressing sort of way.

With Garreth Brooke and instructor Andrew Eales.

Of course the term “holistic” brought up a whole other set of worries. Would this be a touchy-feely hippie piano camp where we “supported” each other into mediocrity? Would I be required to take part in all the group activities? Would anyone be selling me fake science and expensive wellness products? Mr. No Dead Guys—who possesses a keen BS-O-Meter—was particularly skeptical. But something about it kept luring me and I eventually put my concerns aside, paid my deposit for the course, and then promptly set about convincing  my duo partner Molly Wheeler to attend with me.  My expectations were low. I assumed I’d get some good piano instruction, do some yoga, and have a great time hanging out with friends in the Cotswolds. What I experienced over the week proved to be the most healthy musical gift I’ve ever given myself.

This course is different from most piano courses. Rather than fruitlessly attempting to change the reality of the music industry, The Thinking Pianist offers a different path—one based on the wholeness and health of the individual pianist. The instructors do this through the lens of their own experiences, their paths to personal and musical wholeness, and their subsequent passion to provide the same gifts to other musicians.

The Thinking Pianist grew out of the director David Jones’s personal experience with burnout and healing. He and wellness instructor Katie Neesa created an experience that combined the highest level of musicianship with the needs of the body and soul. They then they set about attracting like-minded faculty who perform and teach music at the highest level, as well as licensed wellness instructors who offered yoga, tai chi, Alexander Technique, and an introduction to qigong. The result? A course that brought the play back into making music. Most powerfully, The Thinking Pianist is a space where musicians are free to encounter aspects of themselves and their playing that they’d not felt safe enough to explore elsewhere.

Me in one of the hallways of Cheltenham Ladies' College

Here I found a place where a group of instructors combined world-class musicianship with complete humility. Here I found fellow pianists—most amateur, a few professional—who played at all levels and shared a passion for music without competitiveness. Guardedness disappeared. Cooperation and enthusiasm rushed in. Whether making music, attending talks, or doing downward-facing dog, each of us was welcome to bring the best of ourselves to the experience in a grounded, open way. There was no uptight teaching; there was no “woo-woo” (or sales pitch) to the wellness. There was just the community, making music together, and giving each other the freedom to be our most real selves.

In this place where individuality was welcome, each of us had the opportunity to get what we needed from the course. Some found fresh color and beauty in repertoire they’d played for years. Some found a new way to manage physical challenges through the gifts of the wellness classes. One claimed that the first year he attended he came away knowing his life direction. For me? The Thinking Pianist brought me home to myself.  It wasn’t until I was in my second day of the course that I realized how much I’d been trying to make music through psychological defense shields. One lesson with David Jones and I could see it clearly—how I’ve spent most of my life trying to manage the experience for the audience, and how much fear of judgement was choking out the music that longed to pour through me. Behind that fear lay an age old belief that what I brought to the music wasn’t sophisticated enough, wasn’t good enough, and wasn’t acceptable. In the cocoon of The Thinking Pianist I found a place where I could play and interact from my geeky, quirky self and it was enough.

“This isn’t a safe space,” wellness director and yoga instructor Katie Neesa told me one evening. “It’s a brave space.” That bravery showed up in instructors and students alike. We risked getting healthy. We risked playing to the edges of our abilities. We risked telling the truth. And through our combined bravery and open-hearted humanness, we left with the tools to bring these gifts to our communities.

For information about next year’s course, visit The Thinking Pianist or email David Jones, course director: jonesd@cheltladiescollege.org