Work Reviewed: Werner, Kenny. Effortless Mastery: Liberating the Master Musician Within.* Jamey Aebersold Jazz, 1996.
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Introduction
Here’s a pattern that might sound familiar: you want to become great at something. Perhaps you are already pretty good. But the more you attempt to achieve mastery, the more aware you become of all your shortcomings, until the act of practicing your craft brings on so much internal suffering that you cannot bear to continue. If this is you, Kenny Werner has some life-changing advice. While he focuses on music specifically, the concepts are applicable to anything you have to practice to get better at (so, basically everything!). Find out how to get into the flow state, practice and perform without fear, and connect to something bigger than yourself through creativity.
Summary and Analysis
Preface
Werner’s contribution to a world where many people think, “some of us have it and some of us don’t,” is to write a book “for those who think they ‘don’t have it’” (p. 9). Rather than buying into the myth of innate talent, the author assures us that the difference between those who sound or feel like they have it, and those who don’t, is all about mindset. To explore this, he juxtaposes two concepts: musiphobia, or fear-based playing, and moksha, a Sanskrit word the author translates as “liberation.”
\For Werner, the key to finding “musical depth” (p. 11) is to let go of thoughts and get into the flow state through meditation. It is important to note that Werner discusses the goal of meditation as the elimination of thoughts, a controversial opinion for many schools; but this raises an interesting question. Can you be completely “in the moment” if you are thinking about it? Is thought an inherent form of judgment, and do we break the spell of the flow state simply by noticing it?
Introduction
Werner’s introduction expands on the idea of the flow state that is alluded to in the preface. The author sees the world as an “ocean of creativity” that we can tap into, which gives us the power to transmit our experiences and emotions from person to person, in a way that transcends the need for words or explanation.
We are all part of a universal game…returning to our essence while living in the world.
page 13
Werner sees this creativity as god-inspired; but his approach to religion throughout the work is non-denominational, and the concept of ‘god’ seems to refer broadly to forces beyond human conception.
Chapter Two: My Story
It is interesting to hear stories of wise people as children. We can sometimes assume that they were always that way, and it is reassuring to hear that even those we most admire have struggled.
Werner was born during the baby boom, a time that he describes with metaphors of mass production and industry. School, for Werner, was a kind of assembly line in which children were shaped and molded much like the prepacked, processed foods that were served in front of the TV, which the author likens to a drug. In the face of such boredom, he, and many other children, simply dissociated.
But playing music was a bright spot, and eventually, much of Werner’s self esteem became rooted in his abilities as a pianist. It wasn’t until his identity was challenged upon enrolling in the Manhattan School of Music, where he was no longer able to be the best with only minimal effort, that a problem with his relationship to music became apparent.
At this point, two teachers come to the rescue: Madame Chaloff, known for her “light arm,” approach to playing; and Joao Assis Brasil, a soloist who used a mantra of self-love to emerge from a period of breakdown. Werner practices the perfect finger drop with Chaloff, and begins to transform his mental landscape with Brasil, until astoundingly, he experiences a vast improvement in his playing, which he attributes to a break from his usual practice and an emphasis on observing, rather than doing.
Chapter Three: Why Do We Play?
For those of you who do not relate to the theme of music, it may be helpful to think of this chapter instead as “Why Do We Create?” Werner outlines many of the reasons people list for wanting to become a professional musician, or any other type of artist: to increase self-worth, to prove that one is not a failure, or even riskier, to become a star.
Werner proposes that we turn instead to the original purpose of music, and indeed art. Werner argues that music has always been a way to connect to the divine, or more generally, something larger than ourselves, pointing to the Bhagavad Gita and the Psalms as examples. At the same time, music helps us connect to ourselves, and experience a sense of wholeness and connection. But over time, music, and perhaps art more generally, have become disconnected from that origin.
Werner sees music becoming “dry,” and as it does, humanity must find immersion elsewhere, whether in sex, alcohol, or other forms of consumption. So how does one prevent this “dryness” from creeping into musical instruction? Werner argues that we should follow the natural progression from curiosity to frustration to learning: a student is interested, they make some attempts, at a certain point they can’t execute something, and so they reach out to receive a lesson. One might even call this a kind of “just-in-time teaching,” where the goal is to propel the student to the next level at the very moment they’re ready, rather than forcing them along a prescribed path.
Chapter Four: Beyond Limited Goals
Werner states an ironic truth here: not caring about your playing makes you sound better. In fact, it is “your obsessive need to sound good,” (p. 37), or paint well, or win that game, that holds you back from connecting with the flow state. Basically, fear interferes in all kinds of ways with your performance, recalling for me the lessons of Alexander Technique about “startle.”
A person who is not afraid to die, knows how to live. A person who is not afraid to fail, succeeds. And a person who is not afraid to sound terrible may sound great.
page 39
For example, a horn player experiencing fear might lose some breath control. I myself used to become so tense when singing on stage that my voice might crack with effort. So, how do you connect with “constructive not caring,” as my Alexander instructor used to call it? Well, Werner argues that “you need a sense of self that is stable, durable, and not attached to your last solo,” (p. 42), or your last painting, or your last novel.
Chapters Five through Nine: Fear-Based Behaviors
Werner devotes a chapter each to fear-based playing, practicing, teaching, listening, and composing. In each case, fear takes us out of the flow state, and we are not able to immerse ourselves in the experience.
In the first chapter, he outlines five fears identified in Buddhist thought (loss of life, livelihood, or reputation; experiencing unusual states of mind; and speaking before an assembly), plus an additional one, which he calls fear of ghosts, or voices from the past.
When we are performing our art in a fear state, we are caught up in these issues, which in turn disconnect us from our larger selves, and keep us occupied with what Werner calls the “little mind.” He compares this state to the Hindu concept of Maya, or delusion.
In fear, we expect; in love, we accept.
page 57
A Guide to the Fear State
When practicing our art in a fear state, we rush, we procrastinate, and we do not know where to begin, so we may never start.
When teaching in this state, we are caught in the impulse to soothe our own self-loathing and frustration by making an impact on someone else. Werner reminds us of the root of the word educate, which is “educe,” or draw out, rather than anything to do with the transmission of knowledge.
When listening in this state, we rank ourselves against what we hear, and become caught in technical rather than spiritual listening. When this happens, we are no longer nourished by what we hear, and in fact cannot take in as much because we are so consumed by mental chatter.
Finally, when composing with fear, we are stuck in the need to validate ourselves by making something “good.” Instead, Werner recommends not only giving yourself permission to be bad or mediocre, but trying to be. Let things come up, and only then, edit for things like structure and voicing.
Chapter Ten: The Space
After outlining what the flow state is not, Werner turns to a large conversation about what it is. You may have described this as being in the zone, or being totally immersed. Werner describes it as a place where we are perfect, totally connected with what we are doing, and experiencing a harmony of inner vs. outer being that is absent of any attachment. To me, it is important to note that this perfection is not any objective judgment, but perhaps a state of being where one cannot imagine anything being better. Werner references the concept of samadhi, or flow, here, and despairs that we try to find it all to often in external things like drugs.
Chapter Eleven: There are No Wrong Notes
This is a quote from Miles Davis that ends with “only wrong resolutions.”
What the second half of the statement refers to is the ability of the musician to make any note sound “correct” simply by placing it in the right context. You play something “wrong” but move to a “right” note, and suddenly, it’s a game of tension and release, not a mistake.
Basically, Werner argues through this idea that you are the one who decides how your audience perceives what you are doing. If you present everything as if it belongs, it will belong. He also references Thelonius Monk here, who famously felt that every note he played was correct simply because he had, in fact, chosen to play it.
Think to yourself every time: “That is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard”
page 91
Chapter Twelve: Meditation I
Werner places several meditations between the later chapters of the book, so check those out on your own, as they are best experienced rather than explained.
Download the meditations at Kenny Werner’s website, linked above.
Chapter Thirteen: Effortless Mastery
Self-centeredness…is the wall between us and mastery.
page 104
After outlining what fear-based behavior looks and feels like, Werner expands on what effortless mastery is. First, he emphasizes that we are all masters of different things, so we are looking to achieve a mastery in whatever your personal realm is. But whatever realm you choose, mastery looks, for Werner, like: playing the most difficult passage as easily as you play one note. Playing with just the amount of tension needed, and no more, without any struggle. Experiencing a sense of the sacred, and a connection with the inner self.
Werner also addresses a natural question at this point: if mastery is effortless, how do account for the many hours of practice that it takes to become one? Well, the goal seems to be to practice with ease, and to put in the hours without damaging mind or body. The goal of practice is simply to bridge the gaps in our knowledge that take us out of the moment when we practice our art. If we stumble on a technique, for example, that is going to keep us from reaching our full potential.
Chapter Fourteen: Meditation II
Chapter Fifteen: Affirmations
Werner tackles another source of disconnection between us and our inner selves: unhelpful beliefs. Werner offers the following as mantras for reprogramming our attitudes towards our art:
- MUSIC IS EASY
- THERE ARE NO WRONG NOTES
- EVERY NOTE I PLAY IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SOUND I’VE EVER HEARD.
Chapters Sixteen-Twenty: The Steps to Change
Werner moves from the philosophical to the practical in the next several chapters, outlining four concrete steps to change:
- Inner Self
- Awareness retained
- Play what you can
- Absorption
Chapter Seventeen offers tips for several different instruments to get comfortable moving into “the space.” Basically, if you have a fear response to settling down to your art, you cannot find the space, so some practice is needed here.
Chapter Eighteen encourages artists to allow whatever comes up to be there: play a note, paint a line, write a sentence, and accept it. You can move back to step one as needed.
Chapter Nineteen is where we “get real,” according to Werner. Here, you play what you can, and notice where the gaps are. When you feel effort, that just means there is distance between what you want to do and what you can do.
Finally, Chapter Twenty presents the Learning Diamond, pictured below from Roaring Fork Jazz.
An additional piece of advice is to break up a piece, and try a single line, or a progression, using this method, rather than the whole thing.
Chapter Twenty-One: An Afterthought
You may experience moments of mastery and become preoccupied with re-attaining that “flow state” feeling. You may feel frustrated with non-linear progress. All of this is normal, according to Werner, and when you feel you’ve “lost it,” wave it goodbye and get ready to welcome it back later.
Chapter Twenty Two: Meditation III
Chapter Twenty-Three: Stretching the Form
The ultimate result of mastery seems to be the ability to expand the boundaries of your art, as well as your own personal boundaries. Werner points to Coltrane as an example of this: a man who not only pushed the limits of jazz, but also grew spiritually and personally throughout the process.
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Spiritual (Reprise)
Werner ends with an anecdote about feeling reluctant to bow while doing a meditation retreat. After hearing that he needed to in order to get the full benefit, he tried it, and became a “bowing fool” (p. 187).
This culminates in the act of bowing to the piano before a gig, which leads to a transcendent musical experience, and an unprecedented experience of the flow state. What bowing seems to symbolize for the author is surrender, acceptance, and humility, which are the ultimate antidotes to fear- and ego-motivated uses of our creativity.
Conclusion: Meditation IV
This review of Effortless Mastery is part of the February 2024 Musical Journeys Trio. Follow me on Patreon for access to the monthly trio of selections, supporting materials, and community discussion.
