Another Xylophone Skill?

My ability to see beyond the distance of one octave is rather limited. I can see the octave alright, but when I have to widen my mallet position on the keyboard (my "stance") to greater than one octave, my control diminishes (it feels like, exponentially.)

Practically, there may be very little difference between exercises that might be developed (or repertory that might be practiced) to improve this "wide stance" skill and those used to improve independence, but subtle as the difference is, I think it exists. Could be worth exploring . . .

Website Launch

This is just a brief note to announce the launch of my website: mandebala.net. It's the barest of bones as yet, but . . . petit à petit.

Not So Work-Like

My brother Toby and I have been involved in an ongoing discussion for well over a decade about the advantages and disadvantages of various approaches to and routines for weight training and other forms of exercising. One of the observations to come out of these discussions is highly pertinent (indeed, perhaps central) to bala practice. The bottom line for any exercise regimen is adherence. Boy, this seems almost important enough to repeat: The bottom line for any exercise regimen is adherence. Regardless of how "smart" the practicing is, if you don’t do the damn stuff, you just won’t get no fitter. Well, when the program is designed to emphasize the heavy-ass-ness of the weights, so-to-speak, and you start to dread your workouts, you’ll be far less likely to adhere to the regimen you’ve laid out. But when the program is put together in such a way that you’re not minding (or not noticing) that those weights are as heavy-ass as they are, adherence becomes something of a non-issue.

Now, it is of course important not to let the de-emphasizing of heavy-ass-ness become an excuse for laziness. The work does need to get done. It just need not feel so "work-like." (Remember the question “Does anyone you know play video games because they’ve been told that ‘practice makes perfect?'" Obviously, the answer is supposed to be no. But surely you could name scores [no pun intended] of people you know, who have at one time or other been "addicted" to video-game playing... Well, if I want to adhere to my regimen, I should be addicted to practicing—not cringing at the thought of it.)

For Toby and I, two important features of an exercise program in which work feels less "work-like" include: (a) small, manageable (as well as larger, longer-term) goals and (b) a means to measure incremental progress. (Toby blogs his thoughts on [and charted progress with] fitness, nutrition, and self-quantification here.) Another—and a biggie in the context of musicking—is having others to play/practice with. (I haven't practiced so much in weeks as I did these last few days with Trevor visiting from Montréal. Plus, I enjoyed the practicing immensely and felt that it was quite productive.)

Tom Chatfield touches on some of these ideas in his July, 2010 TED talk. Discussing video game design, he presents "7 lessons from games that can be used outside of games":

1. experience bars measuring progress
2. multiple long and short-term aims
3. rewards for effort
4. rapid, frequent, clear feedback
5. an element of uncertainty
6. windows of enhanced attention
7. other people

I'd like to learn more about the studies, observations, or findings that led Chatfield to these lessons. Has anyone put them to a test? Most of the seven lessons resonate with what we know to be behaviourally true, or with what we probably just sense intuitively, but how do we "know?"

Can anyone help me find scientific support (in the form of published, peer-reviewed studies, for example) for the validity of Chatfield's (or Toby and my) claims that manageable goals and measurement (as well as any of Chatfield's other "lessons") are indeed important features of an effective learning/development program?

"Dear Dr. Chatfield: We can offer the following behavioural explanations for lessons 2, 3, 4 and 7 (or whatever), but how do you account for lessons 5 and 6? (again, or whatever...)."

Two by Noon

It was with myself and fellow treeplanters Kevin Barkman and Myron Seuss, I think, that the phrase "two by noon" started acquiring currency. If we could have two thousand trees in the ground by 12:00 p.m., we knew we were off to a good start and could feel confident that we would come back to camp with an acceptable number that day--usually over 4000.

Inspired by a recent Colbert Report mention of the proverb (credited to Benjamin Franklin), "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise," I've been getting myself back on to a night-time sleep schedule, with an alarm set to wake me up at ten minutes before eight o'clock. This year, my goal has been to practice an average of two hours every day, but due to a busy academic schedule (and some unplanned laziness), I've fallen behind and now need to catch up. Well, I'm going to use "two by noon" as my guideline for pulling up the bootstraps. I'll try to get the mandatory two "new" hours done by 12:00 p.m., leaving the rest of the day for backfilling the practice-hours-debt that I'd accrued over the last month and a half.

I'll let you know when the debt's paid off.