I have a plastic brain and a tin flute
One of the happier research findings of the 21st century is that the adult brain isn’t fixed—it continues to grow and change throughout life. This phenomenon, known as neuroplasticity, is something I’m putting to the test as I learn my first musical instrument: the tin flute. To help me along, I’m reading Making Music for the Joy of It by Stephanie Judy.
This book is a welcoming guide for beginners, addressing common myths like tone deafness and demystifying the basics of reading music. Part of it feels like an introduction to adult learning, with practical advice such as finding a good time and place to practice. But it’s also a broader reflection on the nature of practice itself. For some, there’s a quiet satisfaction in the act of practicing; at the same time, as Judy notes, I find that I can explore more complex techniques when I simply allow myself to play. “In the place we call Music,” she writes, “improvisation is that window off to the side—an irresistible view for some musicians, all they ever look at, really.”
The “mapping technique” she describes is especially fascinating for beginners. While seasoned musicians can often approximate a new piece after just one look, my attempts are awkward and error-filled even after several tries. The mapping approach involves practicing in layers. First, study the piece briefly, noting a few key details. Then, try playing through without the music. With each pass, you add depth and observation until the music starts to feel more natural.
One quote from Judy resonates with me: “People only half listen to you when you play. The other half is watching.” Yikes. I hope, one day, to feel comfortable enough to perform with and for others. I’d always imagined that would be far in the future, but Judy suggests that playing music with family is not only joyful but also a great way to ease into performing. Inspired by her suggestion, I’m rehearsing Joy to the World to play for my family this Christmas—a dream come true.
