Kevin's Advice on Dealing with Stage Fright -

The only thing to fear is fear itself, but isn't that enough?

What is it?

Stage fright (or performance anxiety) is a persistent fear of performing in front of others. It is an activation of the "fight or flight" response. Adrenaline rises, heart rate accelerates, the digestive tract constricts, blood vessels constrict in some parts of the body and dilate in others, and the bladder can relax (causing a need for more "pit stops.") In extreme cases there can be muscle spasms and even decreasing of hearing and tunnel vision. All of this is counter-productive to good performance.

What are we so afraid of? We are afraid that we will fail. We are afraid that they will see how unskilled we truly are. Can they see that I'm a fraud? Everyone is looking at me! They can hear every mistake! Are these fears rational? No, of course not, but that doesn't make it feel any less real. The Greek philosopher Protagoras (via Plato) said that, "Man is the measure of all things." So, if we perceive that the danger and fear are real, then for all intents and purposes, they might as well be. Irrational or not, we have to deal with them.

Trust me, I know stage fright — it has been a constant companion. My first recital at college, I was sitting backstage: sweating through my shirt, shaking almost violently, and pale as a ghost. The mother of one the other students was walking by and thought I was having a heart attack. It turns out that she was a nurse and she stood there taking my pulse for several minutes before she was convinced that I didn't need to go to the hospital. I got through the performance. I won't say that it was my worst performance ever, but it was pretty bad. I made lots of mistakes, I forgot parts of songs, I was distracted, and my performance certainly lacked soul. The only nice thing was that my shaking hands gave everything a very pleasant vibrato.

How do I solve it?

First let me deal with a very bad strategy. Tragically, one of the most common solutions have been pharmacological. Especially in the popular music world, alcohol and marijuana are the most common choices. (It pains me to admit that I have tried both of these as a remedy for my stage fright.) But the problem is that both of these work as depressants and they also depress your attention to detail, your ability to respond to the music, and your ability to evaluate your own performance. So, even though you are relaxed and having fun, you aren't playing nearly as well as you think you are or as well as you are capable. Ironically, having listened back to recordings, I was often playing better when I was nervously fighting off stage fright than when I was relaxed with chemical assistance. I have heard similar reports from other musicians and have seen it many times in others.

In the more legit world, there are beta blockers. Classical musicians have used them for years — their dirty little secret. These are powerful drugs that have many legitimate uses, including treating anxiety. Performers have found that they can relax them and eliminate stage fright, partially or completely. But they also report less musical sensitivity — they nail all the notes, but it lacks the "soul." There are many people who use other anxiety and anti-depressants with much the same results — accurate performance but lack of emotional content.

The ultimate problem with all these approaches is that they don't solve the problem; they only mask it. What are you going to do, use these forever? And what if they start working less and less — will you take more and more? And are you really improving the performance or just creating the illusion of it for your own benefit? Consider that these solutions are preventing you from finding a permanent solution that will not lead you down the road to chemical dependence and diminished performance. The goal should be to find a solution that increases performance — these "better living through chemistry" solutions won't lead you there.

So, what are some good strategies? Here I will try to outline some ideas that have worked for me in the past, all to varying degrees of success. I'll go through them in roughly the order in which I tried or heard of them.

Pretend to be someone else:

This was one of my earliest strategies, and it worked to some extent. I would psych myself up before a jazz gig. Tonight you are Dan Faehnle. Dan wouldn't be nervous. Dan plays with confidence and owns every room he plays in. (Dan is a great jazz guitarist playing around Portland while I was learning jazz guitar.) I would pretend that I was he onstage, trying to hear the way he did and play the way he did mdash; I'd hoped that I could feel some of the confidence that Dan seemed to display. Now, in reality, if I'd had a chance to talk to Dan I probably would have found out that he has his moments of doubt and fear onstage too, maybe even a lot. But in my fantasy world, he didn't know the meaning of fear. I can say that it worked a little — I played a little more confidently and had fun, and even played better. It was actually fun pretending to be my idols: Who would I be tonight? Jim Hall? Wes Montgomery? Charlie Christian? Dan Balmer? John Stowell? (The last two are other Portland guitarists I idolized.) I still do it sometimes, even when I have no stage fright — I find it to be fun and creative way to try and think differently.

Don't forget to breathe:

There is some innate and almost mystical connection between breathing and our state of calm. It is not a coincidence that every meditation school begins with your breathing. A meditation teacher once told me, "If you can control your breathing, you will be calm and centered — and if you are not in control of your breathing, you can never be calm and centered." There is something about calm and controlled breathing that soothes our autonomic nervous system.

So I recommend making breathing a part of your practice. It is not enough to show up on the gig and decide, OK, now it's time to control my breathing. Try to make sure while you're practicing that you are breathing — medium/deep breaths from the diaphragm, nice and slow. Try and make it something that you associate with playing the guitar. Make it something that you monitor in the back of your head while you play — if you sense that you are losing breath control, then try to get it back. And in your normal, everyday life, use this whenever you start getting stressed or nervous and hopefully it will just become a natural response.

Never pass up a chance to play in front of people:

One way to conquer a fear is to face it. Play for your family, play for your friends, play for strangers. Which is more frightening for you? For some, strangers are more frightening — then play for family or friends. If family or friends scare you, then play for strangers. Try and ease your way into it. Play a concert for your friends in your own house if that would make it easier. Go play for a bunch of strangers in a nursing home if that is easier. Play for fellow guitarists if that would be easier. Do whatever it takes — play in front of other people!

And take it easy. You don't have to play the most complicated thing that you know. It is better to play something simple but play it beautifully, than to play something virtuosic but struggle through it. Select some pieces that you know inside and out and can play easily. Get used to performing in front of other people before you up the ante by selecting more difficult pieces. On a similar note, it's strange but different types of gigs can cause different types of stage fright. When I was going to school in Portland, I slowly overcame my fear of playing small clubs in front of a few dozen people. But then when I went to work on the cruise ships, I was playing in front of a thousand people at a time and I was terrified all over again. But slowly I got used to it. Three years later when I landed in New Orleans, I was playing small clubs again for a few dozen people and suddenly I was afraid again! Go figure.

Realize that the audience is on your side:

We tend to assume that the audience is listening and hearing every mistake that we are making. First of all, the majority of your audience doesn't even notice. I can't tell you how many times I have performed something (mentally listing all my mistakes) and then when talking with people afterwards I have found out that most people didn't even notice the mistakes. This has even been true of some musicians. Even when they are musicians and do notice, they really don't care. The trick is to realize that the audience is on your side. They are not there to examine your playing under a microscope, trying to find a catalog every micro-mistake that you make. They are there to listen to music and to have fun. They are not trying to have a bad time, they are trying to have a good time. They will forgive a few mistakes here and there, if the rest is musical and entertaining. They want to ignore the flaws. You are the one who is obsessing about them.

Watch what you eat:

I could go into a long big thing about diet and exercise in general, but I'm talking about the day of the event. First of all, keep it simple. I had a friend when I lived in New Orleans. He and his band were so excited when they got a gig in a swanky club that they went out for Indian food to celebrate before the gig. Unfortunately, most of the guys hadn't eaten that much Indian food and that combined with the excitement of the gig, was too much for their stomachs. I think that in general (if you are nervous about the gig) that you should keep it very simple. I actually like to be a little hungry (a full stomach can weigh you down.) The meal should be something easy to digest — not too much fat or fiber. I try to eat a half-meal about 4 hours before the gig. As a snack, I like to eat a banana about 30 minutes before the gig — some good carbs, simple to digest, and some potassium, which some say helps to calm your nerves. I try to avoid drinking too much water (for obvious reasons) and I avoid caffeine (which can cause jitters and acts as a diuretic.)

Get used to the space:

If you can, go and see where you will play. If you can, even play there a little. I remember the first time I played a classical guitar performance on stage, I was all psyched up. I'd gotten there early and tried out the stage and the acoustics were great. I was nervous, but I was pumped. But when I stepped out onto the stage to play, the spot light hit me for the first time and suddenly I was in terra incognita. This wasn't the space that I had tried out earlier. The heat and the bright lights completely freaked me out.

Try to visualize your performance:

No, I'm not talking about some quacky "visualize success" thing (but if that works for you, go for it.) I'm talking about trying to visualize the situation that is going to be firing up your nerves. Stage fright is an anticipatory anxiety so visualizing the situation may bring up some of the anxiety. Try and spend some time working on your material in a quiet place. Close your eyes, sit up straight, and imagine the performance. Imagine the lights, the sounds, the people. Can you see all the faces out there looking at you? Can you hear the silence before you start? Can you hear yourself getting nervous? Take a deep breath and start playing. Control your breathing. Don't stop playing until the piece is done.

Accept that you will make mistakes:

This is a paraphrase and an elaboration of some things I learned from the great Marc Teicholz. You need to accept that you will make some mistakes. There is no worse advice than "Practice makes perfect." Is perfection a reasonable goal? Can we ever perform to perfection, to the point that absolutely nothing could possibly be better? Isn't the goal of flawlessness an impossible goal? So accept that there will be some mistakes. One of the greatest moments of my life was when I was saw one of my idols make a mistake. I was down watching Dan Faehnle play with the Leroy Vinegar Quartet in (the now closed) Jazz de Opus back in Portland. It was their regular Tuesday night gig and when I could afford it I used to go down and get a plate of linguini and clams and listen to some great jazz. I heard Dan play a line in his solo went nowhere — it was a dead idea that ended very awkwardly. Maybe even a few months ago I wouldn't have been able to hear it, but now I could. The more I listened, I realized that they were all making mistakes. They weren't making many mistakes, and they were subtle, but they were there. But the difference was that they didn't worry about them. When I made a mistake in a solo, I panicked, I made a sour face, cursed under my breath and worried so much about it that the rest of the solo suffered. But they didn't — they simply "fixed" the mistake and kept going. Since then, I've seen the same thing in classical performances — they do make mistakes, but they just don't let it affect the rest of the song. They make a mistake and they put it behind them. They don't obsess about it during the performance. I assume that they are aware of their mistakes but they realize that they can't worry about them and let them destroy the rest of the piece. And do you, as the audience, blame them for this? No, we appreciate it, if we even notice the mistakes. I think that it is a shame that most people consume music now by listening to recordings, where multiple takes and editing can create the illusion of flawlessness. But if you go out and hear live performances, you may find that you start detecting defects in the façade of "perfection."

So, simply expect that you will make mistakes. It's OK. Realize before you begin that it will happen and that you will simply go on. Realize that the audience is not there to hear flawlessly perfect note playing — if they wanted to hear that, they could get a robot to play the guitar and the perfromance would be absolute prefection. But what they want to hear is music, so focus on that instead. I am not saying not to work on your technique and accuracy, just that it is not the most important thing. Consider it your job to put as much depth, character, and emotion into music. Everytime I perform I consider it my job to show the audience why they want me instead of that flawless robot. True, I make mistakes, but I have so much more to offer than just a robotic performance.

Get inside the music:

As the final piece of advice, I recommend trying to get inside the music. Ideally your head shouldn't be divided between the music and worrying about the audience. Wouldn't it be better if you were 100% focused on the music? Of course, it is easier said than done, especially in our modern world where being able to simultaneously pay attention to ten things at once is considered a boon. I think that the key is to incorporate it into your practice. Sit in a quiet place. Listen to the silence before you begin playing. "Hear" what the first notes will sound like as you place your fingers. Steady your breathing and begin. Feel the strings, hear the notes, anticipate what comes next. Try and lose yourself in the music, fill your senses with the experience of playing the music. (Obviously, if you are playing with other musicians, you shouldn't block them out.) When I've succeeded at doing this, I have played much better, enjoyed myself, and been less worried about the audience. I think that this is the best thing that I've found — not only does it help the stage fright but enhances the quality of the music. Maybe this is how all art should be done, absorbed in moment to the exclusion of the rest of the world. Maybe that should be our goal.

Conclusion:

I still deal with stage fright, but these are some things that helped me. I've certainly gotten better over the years. If anyone has any more advice, please let me know. And good luck.