IntellectualMusician.com

Let’s face it, if learning was easy, we’d all be experts. But how does one balance the tears and apathy with the delayed joy and gratification that will undoubtedly come to one who devotes the time?

Aunt Penny loves to show off her talented children, both of whom are gifted violinists. It is commonplace to see the instruments brought out at the family gatherings. And while the onlookers ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the performance, one can’t help but see the lack of glee in the children’s eyes, or in my case, I could sense it through their demeanor and subdued reception of praise. After a sit down with Penny, I quickly learned that she was the prototypical ‘forcer’ when it came to the music lessons. She did not allow her offspring to choose which instrument to play and subsequently did not give them the choice of whether to practice. This was mandatory. Tears be damned.

While the ‘Penny’ method is effective and produced two skilled musicians, I couldn’t help but think that there must be a better way. When my wife and I were first married, we had the discussion of children. We both wanted kids but had to make a few decisions about their upbringing, mostly as a way to avoid future conflict. We agreed that forcing religion on them at a young age was not a way we wished to go, but we did want there to be something spiritual in their lives. I was a musician and my wife was performing and choreographing modern dance. We settled on the mission of music. We would not force our kids to study religion but we would force them to learn an instrument. But at what age do you begin, and how much of the ‘Penny’ method would we use?

Well, my kids are now six and eight, and the time of reckoning is upon us. We decided to let them choose which instrument they wished to play. Naturally, my son, in a blatant attempt to court favor from his old man, chose the guitar. My daughter has not yet begun, but has decided on piano.

Several years earlier, Santa brought my son a guitar for Christmas. Unfortunately, the combination of the poor quality of the instrument (it couldn’t keep tune), with his small hands and underdeveloped manual dexterity, resulted in a complete failure. But as time grew, and his pretend bands such as the Toilet Flushers, The Moonstones, The Kids, The Poisonous Snake, and The Children’s Band became commonplace in our household, it became apparent that the time had come for the second attempt.

I corrected two mistakes this time around. First I felt that he was now mature enough, both physically and mentally, to begin the undertaking. Secondly, I spared no expense and drove into Boston to Guitar Center to buy him both a quality Yamaha acoustic, and his very own Fender Squire Stratocaster, complete with amplifier. In reality, the expense was quite reasonable, especially given the lack of choices for children’s guitars. With musical instruments, cheaper is seldom the way to go. With many other choices, however, the clear and logical means toward acquiring a quality instrument, such as a violin or saxophone, is rental. In total, my outlay for the guitars and amplifier was less than three hundred dollars, and given the standard of the axes, I figured I could sell them and regain most of my money in the oh so unlikely event that my progeny should fail to commit to the task. I figured that I could simply threaten him with studying the Torah or becoming an altar boy as alternatives.

So, now comes the next challenge, getting him to practice, or more importantly, to want to practice. Since most novices do not have an unyielding drive and a passion to drudgery, it is important to approach the lessons with a dash of the “Penny’ method and mix it with a pinch of what I like to call the ‘pal’ technique.

Practice became mandatory, but I wouldn’t necessarily refer to it as practice. Perhaps it is better to call it playing. Of course I would teach him the basics, such as chords and notes, and basic strumming and picking techniques. After the initial presentation, I decided to force him to ‘practice’ every day. At least I call it practice when I send him upstairs. I recognize that he is familiarizing himself with his guitar and having fun with it. This is a key component in maintaining interest.

What do I do when he moans and groans at the prospect of marching upstairs to practice? Well, sometimes I recite the speech that must be given out in the parent’s handbook. I utter phrases like ‘nothing worthwhile is easy’, and ‘practice makes perfect”, but the favorite of parents throughout the ages, whether vocalized or not, has to be ‘you’ll thank me later’.

When he is particularly sullen, I tell him he needs only to practice for ten minutes. If there is something else he is looking forward to, such as wiffle ball or a video game, I tell him he can embark on his fun as soon as he gives me x minutes on the guitar. Most of the time I let him practice without the pressure of having me in the room. I know that he is not always diligent or giving his all, but he is holding and playing the guitar. I figure that is half the battle.

It didn’t hurt at all that my son, who happens to enjoy the music of The Who, got a unique opportunity to see them live at the Garden from the eleventh row. Given that his favorite song is ‘Pinball Wizard’, I thought that he would benefit from learning the Dsus4 chord, which is both fun and easy to play. The day he learned that one bought me at least another month or two of commitment on his part. I have more tricks up my sleeve to keep his interest up like learning rudimentary yet cool songs, such as ‘Squeezebox’, ‘Baba O’ Riley’, and ‘Wild Thing’. Sure he doesn’t play them perfectly, or in some cases in the correct key (Baba is easier in G), but that will come in time. Teaching hammer ons and sliding from one note to another also proved magical. I thing the coup de grace had to be the day I showed him how to reach behind the nut to bend the low ‘E’ string.

Perhaps the most important decision I have made is to be more of a friendly coach instead of a harsh teacher. I do offer praise, though I do not gush, I leave that for my wife. If he wants to learn something ‘sick’ that is too complicated for him, I give him a taste.

Four months in, we have good days and bad, though overall I am extremely proud, and just a bit jealous of his potential given how early he is starting. I was sixteen before I ever held a guitar. Despite the frequent moans and lack of enthusiasm, I still force him to ‘practice’ every day. I figure that he’ll thank me later.

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