What if you could defang the monster of perfectionism by flipping the issue? Here’s my latest theory: that perfectionism is, at its root, an avoidance tactic. We’re avoiding the scarier prospect of finding our own artistic voice.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s start by admitting that most musicians grow up chasing perfection. It’s hardwired into our training. We all yearn to “perfect” our technique so we can produce our perfect sounds and interpretations.
We each chase an elusive ideal that exists in our mind’s ear. That’s the nature of artistic work: chasing the dream of perfection.
On the positive side, this can keep us endlessly fascinated with the process of honing our skills and clarifying the vision of the work we seek to create.
On the not-so positive side, perfectionism can lead to micromanaging our music-making and to bullying ourselves for missing the mark.
But there’s something worse. Chasing perfection often means keeping a fixed view of the ideal we’re after—and too often, it’s an ideal we’ve appropriated. This means we aren’t working to discover our own version of the ideal. So . . .
Before striving for perfection, clarify whose dream it is you’re chasing
For many musicians, perfection is about trying to measure up to someone else’s standards or legacy. We’re so dazzled by our musical heroes, that we’ve unwittingly based our ideal performance of a work on their recordings.
Of course, this only leads to disappointment and heartache. (In the end, who wants to sound like a knock-off of anybody else?)
But it also, conveniently, distracts us from the real work of finding our own voices as artists.
How to stop being a victim of your own perfectionistic idealism
First, this requires that you fully accept that life isn’t perfect. That humans are not supposed to be perfect.
In the end, what makes a performance moving and magical IS NOT PERFECTION. It’s something beyond a dazzling technique, and a beautiful tone or phrasing.
It’s about finding your own truth in the music and daring to bring it forth to audiences. In other words, it requires . . .
Finding your own artistic voice
With whatever piece you’re focused on, use an open, nuanced approach to creating the ideal you’ll work toward. Sure, we all have our favorite recordings by our musical heroes. But when it comes to your performance—what is it that YOU want?
Creating that ideal version that you’re working toward should be an ongoing process. So, in the practice room, you continue to reshape and reimagine that ideal.
This takes being curious and open to new discoveries—it takes a beginner’s mind. That way, your ideal is continually refined as you uncover new insights and experiment with options.
After all, the goal is to deliver the performance that only YOU can bring forth into the world.
But it all starts with knowing yourself and your process. This takes humility and a willingness to accept where you are now. Here’s how author George Saunders describes it.
Author George Saunders
The George Saunders’ analogy for self-acceptance in artistic work
(This is from George’s Story Club community on Substack. Thank you, George!)
“An analogy, if you don’t mind: I am a very fast talker—always have been. I have a monkey-mind and a high metabolism. Is this a problem? Well, it’s a quality, for sure (an excess).
If I want to convert it into a positive asset, I first have to be aware of it and admit to it. (“Cop to it,” as people used to say in the 1960s, man.) Then it can be worked with. (Which I’ve been trying to do my whole life).
I can, for example, intentionally slow down and try to channel my monkey-minded energy into becoming more precise.
I can go ahead and let it rip—talk fast, while trying to be charming in the process. That is, I can submit to, even exaggerate, that trait, playing the part, as I have done sometimes, even in class, of the guy so full of ideas he can’t be stopped, even when he starts making no sense.
The point is, the fast-talking is a genuine part of who I am—it’s biological or neurological or whatever. I can’t get away from it and I shouldn’t want to. I have to learn to work with it—to exploit it, get inside of it, celebrate it. [Emphasis mine.]
What would not be great: if I
1) wasn’t aware that I was a fast-talker, or
2) was aware, dimly, but refused to address it—i.e., if I was in denial.”
How does this apply to musicians?
To find your own artistic voice, you need to, like George, be truly aware of how you sound and what your tendencies are.
Do you know how to work with your gifts and limitations so you can make the most of what you have?
Do you in fact have your own point of view, your own ideal version of the piece that you want to convey?
If you want to be able to hone your skills and claim your own voice, you need to be able to work with the qualities that make your performances distinct. Do you know what these are?
I’m asking because too many musicians are in denial and they are hiding behind perfectionism—instead of confronting who they really are, so they can find their own truth and their own voice.
Here’s to leaning in and finding yours,
Dream Big, Plan Smart, Live Well
