We talked about defining “right” and of playing “perfectly”.  One of the problems with so many definitions of right is that they can blind us to the Beauty of Error.

If every time you have a variant note you make a “lemon face” you might miss what could be right in front of you. When you play something that isn’t “right” you haven’t played something wrong.  Instead, you’ve played something different.  Something you didn’t intend.  Something you hadn’t thought of.  Something you hadn’t seen before.  The caveat is we are not talking about when you begin to learn the tune – it is important to know the melody.  But after you have that learned…

In those times you inadvertently play something you hadn’t planned, you open a big door of possibility.  The question is, will you go through?  Or will you slam it shut?  (You know which one I think you should do!)

Because these variations could be serendipitous.  Some of them will work ok.  Others – meh, not so much.  And some won’t work at all, no matter how much lipstick you pile on them. 

But some of them will just explode into an amazing array of new sounds, new thoughts, new textures.  Like a prism bends light, your new find might bend your entire perception of the tune.

Others will explode in another way – shining a light on a new way to look at the tune.  Or click something in your mind that changes how you look at some other, completely unrelated tune.  You might find a new interval combination you hadn’t noticed before.  Or you might find some new rhythm twist that you hadn’t thought possible (or hadn’t thought, period).

This is especially true when we’re working harmony or improvisation – because there are no wrong notes.  There are combinations that may be less satisfying than others.  We might have created a sound environment that does not match our original intention.  But each of those has its beauty – even the discordant options -as long as we are willing to hear it. 

Funny thing about sound – once you make it, it’s gone relatively quickly.  So, even if you lay out a stinker, it doesn’t last. In fact, before you can even examine it, it’s gone!  That tempus is fugit-ing which makes those sounds hard to hang on to. 

So how do we become more appreciative of these unintended consequences?  How do we find the Beauty of Error?  Honestly, you already know –

Practice.  No really – the more you allow these variances to occur, the less they take you by surprise and discombobulate you.  Practice not stopping for every little blip.  Get in the habit of paying attention while you play so you hear them as they happen, not belatedly.  Record yourself to be sure you’re not making lemon face, or rolling your eyes, or any of the other things that telegraph to your audience that things might not be going quite to plan!  All easier when you’ve practiced it!

Boldly go.  Specifically set practice time to explore the sound space around your tune.  Specifically violate the carefully set arrangement you have built.  Challenge your assumptions.  Challenge yourself.   Throw open that door to the unknown and fling yourself through it.  What’s the worst that can happen?  Be kind to yourself – this is what practice time is for!

Capture, review, learn, iterate.  As part of that practice, make the sounds just a little less ephemeral and capture your work.  Record your noodling.  I just use an voice memo app on my phone.  It’s no Deutsche Grammophon but it’s clear enough for me to sort through.  I have loads of little snippets.  Then I go through them and mark in a notebook what’s wheat, what’s chaff, what’s just garbage.  When I’m done, I d-e-l-e-t-e them – like they never existed.  All my secret bombs are gone – *poof* – the sweet gems remain, and no one’s the wiser.

Stop chasing perfection.  We have already talked about how perfection is overrated.  If your listener wanted perfection, they’d get a cd.

Did I mention practice? This doesn’t come overnight.  Nothing about becoming a better musician does.  You just keep practicing – hearing things you didn’t expect, gliding on past like a swan, filing away the sparkly ones – the more you do it, the easier it becomes.   

What beautiful errors have you had lately?  Do you have other ways of cracking that nut and seeing the beauty in the errors?  Have you set aside time for finding them?  Let me know in the comments!