I have worked as a performer my entire life, and there is a syndrome out there that I keep running into again and again that I thought was worth mentioning. I don’t have a name for it, so I’ll make one up: I will call it “system-itis.”
No matter what kind of performing are talking about, be it a violin or an oboe or public speaking, as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, you can bet that somehow, somewhere, somebody is going to write a book containing a “scientific method.”
Now make no mistake, such books often contain useful information. However, they have one common failing: you can follow every single instruction in them to the letter and still be a terrible [insert type of performing here].
Without exception, every single performer that I have ever met in my life who was any good at all has gone through that magical moment when they finally decided to stop listening to the systems and the methods, and just looked at the problem objectively and did their own unique problem solving.
The real problem with system-itis is that it actively sells itself to young people who are eager to believe that there’s an easy way. There is always a belief that we can somehow mechanize and automate the learning and communication process, and save ourselves having to expose our vulnerability. There will always be a book titled something like “How to Pick up Girls.” Inevitably, it always sounds like a perfectly fine system, and when it doesn’t work, we assume that we have not followed the system obediently enough. And round and round we go.
One illustration that comes to mind is the Wright Brothers. In 1900 they gathered up every book they could find on aerodynamics and used the systems contained therein as a basis for designing their first glider. After numerous failures, it dawned on them that the people who had written these books had never actually tested their theories. Fortunately, they had the good sense to toss the books out and start over from scratch. Their willingness to simply ignore what other people were saying was key to their ability to innovate.
I cannot begin to tell you just how much time I once wasted listening to various double bass teachers, and more recently, people telling me how to “get published.” All the advice I got on the subject was about avoiding the hard parts instead of going right at the hard parts. Advice can certainly be helpful, but it is no substitute for courage, humility, and determination. All too often, the promise of an “easy fix” actually is a detrimental to one’s decisiveness, because it feels like you’re doing it the hard way. In many cases, and certainly in all worthwhile cases, the hard way is the only way. And if you follow a method, you run a tremendous risk of giving up your most valuable asset, which is your own uniqueness.
I suppose a lot of people must think I am pigheaded for not listening to their advice or hiring every coach in sight. Yes, everyone has some good advice to share, but passively following advice will never lead to success. If you want to get as good as you can possibly be at something, at some point, you just have to hunker down and do it, and there is no coach, nor is there any method book, that will do that for you.
© Justin Locke
