Rethinking the Way We Practice the Piano
One of the phrases I use frequently with my students is:
“Understand first. Repeat second.”
Repetition has always been a fundamental part of learning an instrument. We are told to practice a difficult passage again and again until we can play it. But over many years of performing and teaching, I have come to believe that repetition alone is not enough.
In fact, repeating something before we truly understand what we are doing can reinforce the very problems we are trying to solve.
Before a student repeats a passage, I want the mind to be clear. What are the notes? What is the rhythm? What fingering will be used? Where is the hand going next? What movement will be required to get there?
The body should not have to discover these things by accident each time we play.
The mind leads the body
When I was a young pianist, I was fascinated by musicians for whom playing seemed extraordinarily natural. They did not appear to struggle with every individual note or movement. There seemed to be a direct connection between what they heard and understood internally and what their bodies produced at the instrument.
Over time, this became central to my own teaching.
I want students to know what they are about to do before they do it.
For example, rather than simply playing a passage repeatedly and hoping that the fingers eventually remember it, I may ask a student to say the notes using fixed-do solfège, count the rhythm aloud, or visualize the movement of the hand before playing.
Sometimes I ask students to close their eyes and tell me what comes next. At other times, they may sing or say the left-hand notes while playing the right hand.
These exercises can initially feel more demanding than simply playing the passage again. But they reveal something important: Does the student actually know what is happening?
Clarity can reduce physical tension
This is also closely connected to physical freedom at the piano.
When the brain is uncertain about what comes next, the body often responds by tightening. The hands grip. The shoulders rise. Breathing may become shallow or even stop momentarily.
We often try to correct these physical symptoms directly: relax the shoulders, loosen the wrist, take a breath.
Those things can certainly help. But sometimes the tension begins earlier—with uncertainty.
If the mind clearly anticipates the next note, interval, fingering, rhythm, or movement, the body no longer has to react at the last possible moment.
Mental clarity can create physical freedom.
Practice is not simply repetition
This is why I don’t think of practicing as accumulating repetitions.
Five thoughtful repetitions may accomplish far more than fifty unconscious ones.
Before repeating a passage, I encourage students to ask themselves:
Do I know exactly what I am trying to do?
Can I hear it internally?
Can I anticipate the next movement?
Can I explain what went wrong if I make a mistake?
The goal is not merely to eliminate wrong notes. It is to develop awareness.
Eventually, something interesting begins to happen. What initially required conscious thought becomes increasingly natural. The student no longer has to control every detail intellectually. The understanding has become part of the playing.
And that is when technique can begin to serve something much more important: music.
Finding your own musical voice
Ultimately, my teaching is not about producing pianists who all play in the same way.
I believe that everyone has a unique and distinctive musical voice within them. Technique, ear training, rhythm, movement, and careful practice are not ends in themselves. They are tools that allow that voice to emerge more freely.
The purpose of understanding is not to make music intellectual.
It is exactly the opposite.
When the mind and body know what they are doing, we are freer to listen, imagine, respond—and make music.
Understand first. Repeat second.
For me, that simple principle has become one of the foundations of both practicing and teaching.