Stewart has a great post up about hope being the key to horror (and suspense). I never connected those dots before. Don’t you love those a-ha moments?
I have a student who is amazing. He can just play like you wouldn’t believe, and turn out these note-perfect, expressive performances. It’s just astonishing, how much talent and ability and smart work ethic he has.
However, if you’d ask him how good he’s at piano, he’d say "bad."
It’s really perplexing.
I have no other students who can come close. Out of hundreds of student pianists, he’d probably be in the top ten in Ohio. I rank him a little higher, because I don’t spoon feed him. He comes to his expression and understanding of music through the foundation he received and his own inherent ability, rather than having him copycat me or drill a certain nuance or phrasing over and over.
(And I can think of no other blog to write today, because I’m usually worried and thinking about him all day before his lesson, LOL.)
I have a friend who used to write fabulous stories. It became a very clear indicator that the worse she thought a story was, the better and more popular it would be. She said that the stories she liked best were her least popular. (I’ll have to take her word on that; I loved all of them.)
Something good comes out of this insecurity: it pushes my student to a very high level. At some point, however, it’s killing his enthusiasm. What’s the point of demanding such a high standard of yourself if you don’t have some fun? If you don’t reward yourself?
But what if, no matter what other people say to you, you just can’t see that you’re any good? (Even if the evidence makes that statement wildly preposterous?)
Anyway. I lose perspective all the time, too, especially about teaching. What about you? And how do you get yourself to see things as they are--rather than how they feel--when your perspective is off?