In Unit 3 Suzuki training Ed Kreitman enumerated the pillars of masterful teaching: effective communication with students, effective communication with parents, mastery of the instrument being taught, and a masterful ownership of a logical sequence from the beginning of study to professional playing. Over the summer I found myself frustrated that I wouldn’t be able to work day to day on my own sequence (let along mastering it) because my oldest student is in Book 4, I have only done teacher training up through Unit 4, and I had a relatively fast track experience in advanced repertoire (leaping from Kreisler’s Preludium and Allegro to Lalo Symphonie Espagnole). I felt that my effort would be best spent continuing to work on my own playing, streamlining the way I convey information to students and parents, and tinkering with my studio rituals.
Pedagogy this semester has taught me that putting off sequential planning and practicing is not only a waste of time, but counterproductive. After creating my vibrato and sight reading task analyses at the beginning of the semester, I find myself constantly reflecting on these skill ladders while in my lessons. Even though I am only officially working on my vibrato sequence with Jenny Thomas, I now wonder in lessons with Book 3 and 4 students if they mastered every vibrato step before they came to me. When working with my orchestra aged students I constantly scan for hints of reading deficiencies that might have been ignored years ago. I worry now that the uncharted arenas of skill development I have ignored have perhaps kept me from starting the foundation for a skill that is necessary to make a student a professional.
Seeing how integral in teaching my first attempt at building complete sequences has become, I plan to develop complete sequences for the following skills by the end of the semester: posture, shifting, hand frame/scales, tonalization, musicality, trills, and use of the whole bow. With each of the target skills I will define an artistic/professional measure of mastery and build a bridge of small skills that can be achieved in 1-3 attempts. In general I plan to build sequences from big motions to refined small motions, hypothesizing that coordination of big movements will encourage more relaxation and ease than the finite control of small movements. For example I will use harmonic shifting before shifting from one position to the next, thumb on the outside of the bow before inside, preparing the body for proper position of the violin before the chin, and moving the body in a musical way before moving the bow. Most importantly, I need to define how I will know if a student has accomplished each level of skill before moving to the next.
After listing the entire sequence, but before using it with my students, I want to employ some of the practicing techniques we discussed in the previous chapter. I will test myself on the ability to mentally move through each consecutive sequence accurately, I will practice (literally in a practice room) the way I explain and demonstrate each step, and practice “performing” the step with a friend or older student first before jumping into the entire sequence in real time.
It has become clear that sequencing is a way of thinking, rather than a static, one time process. Just as I will now look for rehearsal frames when I observe and prick my ears when I hear examples of deep work in other fields, I will now think in sequential units. As my teaching matures I expect that my sequence will become more efficient and elegant, but more importantly that I will be able to hold a vision of the path to excellence in my mind’s eye while also maintaining awareness of every discrete step taken to get there. That will not happen if I delay for future students, further experience, or extensive training. It will only happen if I take the first small step towards my own use of sequencing right now.