Originally published to The Bulletproof Musician
I was five years old when I first played for Dr. Suzuki. I performed Corelli’s La Folia, and when I was done playing, he said something very astute (though half-jokingly), that always stuck with me.
I should note that he was always very kind to me, and unfailingly supportive and optimistic, but the gist of his comment, conveyed to me in the gentlest possible way, was “You sound better with my eyes closed.”
Indeed, I cringe to watch videos of myself performing back in the day. Knees locked, shoulders slumped, tummy jutting out, mouth half-open like a zombie… It’s not a pretty sight.
In subsequent years, other teachers would sometimes comment on how disengaged and bored I looked as well (or calm, if they were glass half-full types).
I figured, on principal, that how I looked on stage shouldn’t matter. That my performance should be judged on what people heard, not what they saw.
But what if that’s just not how we’re wired?
WHAT ARE OUR EYES DOING?
Chia-Jung Tsay is a Juilliard Pre-College alum (piano), with a seriously impressive portfolio of a half-dozen or so degrees from Peabody and Harvard.
Like most talented young musicians, she worked diligently to improve her musical and technical skills, but noticed that she seemed to do better in auditions which required video recordings as opposed to audio-only recordings.
As she pursued her PhD in organizational behavior and psychology, she wondered how large a role our eyes play in the evaluation of a performance, and conducted a series of studies to see what she could find.
GUESS THE WINNER!
In a series of experiments including both non-musicians and professional musicians, Tsay evaluated participants’ ability to correctly guess the winner of 10 international competitions by presenting them with 6-second clips of the top three finalists.
Some participants were presented with audio-only clips of the finalists.
Other participants were presented with video-only clips of the finalists where the audio was removed.
Yet others viewed regular video clips with the audio intact.
When presented with sound-only clips, non-musicians correctly identified the winner ~25.5%-28.8% of the time. In other words, they would have been better off guessing randomly (if participants had simply guessed, you would expect them to pick the winner correctly about 33% of the time).
When presented with video-only clips, non-musicians correctly identified the winner ~46.4%-52.5% of the time. Not a spectacular percentage, but a definite, and statistically significant edge above purely guessing.
Adding audio to the video seemed to confuse the participants, as this made them less likely to pick the winner (35.4%).
That’s a pretty interesting finding – that non-musicians are better able to guess the winner of a big competition merely by watching a silent 6-second video clip of their performance, than by actually hearing them play.
But this isn’t very likely to hold true when professional musicians are the ones guessing who the winners are, right?
Well, as it turns out, the professional musicians didn’t fare much better.
When presented with sound-only clips, the pros correctly identified the winner ~20.5%-25.7% of the time.
And when presented with video-only clips, the pros correctly identified the winners ~46.6%-47% of the time.
Here too, seeing video footage with audio only hindered their efforts (29.5%).
So even professional musicians are better able to guess the winner of a competition by seeing them in action for 6-seconds than by hearing or watching them play for 6-seconds?
This is some pretty astounding data. At first glance, concerning, perhaps. Even disappointing?
STYLE VS. SUBSTANCE
With titles like Musicians' Moves Matter More Than Their Sound some media outlets have suggested that this shows we live in a day and age where style trumps substance. Where looks and showmanship matter more than true artistry and musicianship.
But I don’t think Tsay and her data are suggesting that how we look matters more than how we sound. (And it should be noted that follow-up experiments established that race, gender, and physical attractiveness did not significantly impact participants’ judgment.)
I think Tsay’s findings simply suggest that the visual element plays a larger role in our judgement of expertise and performance quality than we might think.
That all else being equal, what we communicate visually may be the extra edge that tips the jury (or the audience) one way or the other.
Recall that the clips were of the top three finalists at international-level competitions.
All the “lesser” performers had already been weeded out in previous rounds. The remaining three were the cream of the crop, and at the highest level of competition, the top musicians are all talented, technically capable, and well-prepared. The differences between competitors are more a matter of style, taste, and nuanced details that are difficult to glean from short snippets of their performance.
If all three competitors are relatively evenly matched, doesn’t it make sense that judges would tend to pick as the winner of a major competition the musician who not only plays great, but looks more passionate, involved, motivated, creative, and unique? Who represents the complete package?
WE WANT MORE
After all, we live in a day and age where the technical quality of performances is arguably higher than ever. So naturally, we demand more than just a great auditory experience. We want to have an emotional experience, to be moved, not just by the technical and musical elements of a performance, but by the entirety of what we are presented with.
We demand this of our computers, where perfectly functional (but uninspired) beige boxes no longer cut it.
We demand this of our phones, our cars, our book covers, our websites, and more. Heck, I have an $8 plunger for my toilet designed by famed Princeton architect and designer Michael Graves. Why? Because it makes me feel better to look at it, and wasn’t really all that different in price than the ugly plunger which makes me want to…umm, basically not own a plunger.
When you record yourself doing run-throughs and mock performances, set aside some time to look at yourself performing as well. Does what you see represent the commitment, level of engagement, and passion that you mean to communicate? Is the visual experience consistent with the auditory experience? Or is there a disconnect between the two?
Sometimes we can get so used to playing in practice mode, that we get on stage and look like we’re still in a tiny practice room, slouched in our practice chair in front of a stand.
I don’t think anybody is suggesting that we have to gyrate like a hula dancer, put on a show, and make a spectacle of ourselves. There are plenty of incredibly engaging artists who don’t move much at all, and aren’t flashy per se, but project an intensity and passion that is absolutely riveting to the observer.
It’s about looking engaged, present, free, and involved, rather than appearing disinterested, tentative, uncertain, or apologetic.