The other day I heard someone criticizing Susan Boyle’s recent performance with Donny Osmond in Las Vegas. They said she appeared to be so nervous that she looked and sounded like she was going to vomit any minute. I felt so badly for her when I heard that. When was the last time this critic got up in front of thousands of people and was Mr. or Mrs. perfect? What gives them the right to judge?
I can truly empathize with Ms. Boyle because I myself have a history of terrible stagefright. It is such a humiliating experience to get up there in front of everyone and suddenly feel so scared that you’ve forgotten everything you’ve worked so many hours on to prepare. You look and feel like a fool and a failure. On top of that, your body is totally working against you. You are sweating, shaking, and your heart is going a mile a minute. Then you feel like you want to cry. It’s awful. I get upset just thinking about it.
My stagefright was at its worst when I attended the Interlochen Arts Academy High School. I had, during my younger years, been an avid, fearless performer who was always ready and willing to show off. This all changed when I arrived at this northern Michigan arts school that was full the brim with brilliant, focused, artistic students who were all much more talented and capable than myself. I was out of my league.
The following excerpt from my book “Everything Is My Fault,” describes this experience in detail.
Stage Fright
Junior year marked the beginning of a bad case of stage fright. That little six-year-old ham from first grade and the Christmas shows was gone or hiding. The girl that remained was terrified.
Thor, my piano teacher junior and senior year, helped me overcome this stage fright. Thor was a wonderful teacher and had a very gentle manner. He had a lot of great piano majors who were studying with him.
Once a week, on Thursday afternoons, we had studio class. During studio class, all the pianists who were studying with a particular teacher would cram into a tiny piano studio. Then we would play for each other while everyone else sat there staring at every move we made from only inches away. It was very nerve-racking, especially for someone like me.
I’ll never forget the first time I had to play in that tiny room for all those incredible pianists. I walked to the piano with a sense of dread, with my heart pounding, my hands shaking, and my brow dripping with sweat. When I sat down, I couldn’t remember a single note of what I was supposed to play. I had no idea where to place my trembling hands.
Thor was very supportive and told me to shake my hands out. I didn’t even know how to do that. I just kept shaking. The other students were very supportive. I think I ended up playing something that day, something with lots of mistakes. I felt like I was going to die, but I didn’t.
Thor had me read the book The Inner Game of Tennis to help me with my stage fright, and it was very effective for me. What an amazing book! Author W. Timothy Gallwey discusses Self 1 and Self 2 and their impact on one’s performance, which, in this setting, is the tennis game. Self 1 is the ego, the inner critic if you will, always trying to be in control and boss around Self 2. Self 2, on the other hand, is the creative, intuitive self that really knows what it’s doing and will blossom and shine if Self 1 will go the heck away and leave it be.[1]
So the book suggests ways to distract Self 1 so that Self 2 can do what it knows how to do. Focusing on breathing, the design on the tennis ball as it comes at you, and the feel of the ball when it hits your racquet are all activities to distract Self 1.[2] You’ll find more great ideas in this book.
Relating this to the piano, Thor had me feel the keys and imagine what they felt like. Feel them going all the way down to the bottom. What do the keys feel like?
When I would get ready to play, especially in front of an audience, he would have me listen intently to the silence. Very specifically, he would tell me to listen to the atoms splitting and I would. If you listen hard enough, they are quite loud. It totally took me out of my stage fright and into a whole other world.
Then I would listen to my music in my head. I would hear the opening phrase of my music just before I played it. I would listen for what I heard coming up next in the music. If I was still nervous, I would try to take myself to another place, like what I was going to do after I was done playing.
It certainly helped me to stay in the moment and forget that all of those really amazing piano players were staring at me.
My stage fright was due not only to a lack of ability, but a lack of confidence. Lack of confidence affects my performances to this day. It’s one thing for me to play my instruments here by myself. Take the violin, for example. Sometimes I actually sound okay when I’m here by myself. But as soon as I get in front of Marcy, my violin teacher and mentor, I completely choke. Gosh, I hope I don’t do that at my next violin recital. I’d better start practicing those “Inner Game of Tennis” techniques on the violin now.
Seriously, The Inner Game of Tennis is a wonderful book that changed my life and made it possible for me to play in public. I am now studying The Inner Game of Music by Barry Green and W. Timothy Gallwey, a wonderful book that is geared toward helping musicians. It is proving to be very helpful to me in my study of the violin.
Getting back to Interlochen and my stage fright, why couldn’t I just have loved myself and accepted where I was at? So I was a beginner, basically. Who cared?
So give Ms. Boyle a break. She is a beautiful and talented woman who is doing the best she can. She has my full admiration, compassion and support.