06 May 2019

"Eight Strategies for Breaking Out of a Performance Slump"

by Noa Kageyama, Ph.D

[Last month, Allegro, the member magazine of Local 802 of the American Federation of Musicians (vol. 119, no. 4 [April 2019], https://www.local802afm.org/allegro/articles/eight-strategies-for-breaking-out-of-a-performance-slump/), republished an article by a musician- psychologist, Dr. Noa Kageyama, who applies sports psychology to the work of musicians.  Here, he’s providing guidance for defeating the debilitating sense of being in a performance slump.

[Dr. Kageyama uses the strategies described by cricketers—you can think baseball for this article; it fits well enough!—as a model for ways musicians can overcome the same problems.  I maintain that the strategies he passes on here are just as applicable to actors going through the same feelings—not moving up in the auditioning process—and, I daresay, probably dancers as well.  I’ll insert comments within Dr. Kageyama’s article below to draw analogies between his advice to musicians and equivalent situations auditioning actors may face.

[Truth be told, I’ve experienced the doubts and questions myself in my brief attempt to become a working actor, and I can tell you that it’s a discouraging experience.  The thoughts and fears Dr. Kageyama and the athletes he quotes describe also occurred to me after a spate of unsuccessful auditions.  So I’m passing along Dr. Kageyama’s advice to readers of Rick On Theater in the hope some of you will find the thoughts useful.]

Whether you’re watching basketball, baseball, or, say, cricket, broadcasters will often say that an underperforming athlete is in a “slump.”

I don’t know that I’ve ever thought of this phenomenon in a musical context, so my ears perked up a bit when I recently heard a few musicians use this term. Not like, “Oh, I’ve had a few subpar studio classes in a row; I think I’m in a slump.” But more in the context of orchestral auditions, where you might go through a few consecutive auditions where things don’t click, and you don’t advance.

Slumps can be really discouraging. They can make you start questioning your ability. And worry that perhaps you’ve hit your ceiling. Or lead you to start “pressing” and trying too hard. None of which is especially productive, and often just makes the slump last even longer.

[rick: I don’t recall hearing any actor friends using the word ‘slump’ and I’m not aware of ever having thought it myself, but I can attest, both from my own experience in auditions and from anecdotes by my friends and colleagues in the business, that most of us have had the experience of attending audition after audition and not getting called back.  Even harder on the delicate psyche of the actor, tyro or vet, is going to interviews and not even being asked to show our stuff.  A string of these experiences can be very debilitating.]

So how do elite athletes get out of slumps? Are there any specific techniques or strategies they rely on to stay in a good headspace and bounce back to their normal level of performance?

Cricket!

In a recent British study, 10 professional cricket players were interviewed to learn more about their experience of slumps, and what strategies or techniques athletes at this level might use to manage these dips in performance (Brown, Butt, & Sarkar, 2019 – see reference at this end of this article).

Different athletes emphasized different things, but there were a few key themes that emerged. And all in all, there were eight specific slump-busting strategies that seemed pretty relevant to performance slumps in the music world too.

THEME #1: HOW TO INTERPRET THE SLUMP

The first set of strategies relates to how you interpret the slump. Which I know sounds pretty abstract, but staying in a productive headspace is an important part of maintaining the motivation to work your way through a slump.

1) Explanatory style

Let’s say you advanced in your first few auditions while you were in school, but after graduation, experience a string of auditions where you don’t advance out of prelims. Your inner critic might try to explain this by telling you that you must have just been lucky before. And that you don’t have what it takes to do any betters.

[When I was working on my MFA in acting, my graduate acting classmates and I got cast in every show for which we chose to audition.  (I even had a special advantage: I was nearly 30—I did a stint in the army before grad school—so I was in demand as the “old man” any time one was needed in the cast.  Directors often asked me to read for their productions!)  

[After my first year in the program, I began to wonder if I could get cast by directors who didn’t know me.  So that summer, I started making the rounds in New York City and was cast in a (non-singing) role in a little Off-Off-Broadway musical.  

[I returned to school for the second year of the MFA program and after graduating and participating in a semi-pro summer rep the university produced, mixing grad students and Equity pros, I went out into the world of New York theater with confidence.  I soon faced the disheartening awakening Dr. Kageyama describes above.]

This is called a pessimistic “explanatory style.” And it’s the kind of story that could prolong the slump, because it provides an internal and stable (i.e. fixed and unchanging) explanation for why you’re not advancing. Because if failing to advance is a talent issue (internal), and talent can’t be changed (stable), how motivated will you be to work harder or try new things?

Conversely, an optimistic explanatory style is where you might say to yourself that performance is cyclical. That there are natural ups and downs from one audition or performance to the next (unstable), and that slumps will happen through no fault of your own (external). External and unstable explanations like this are less discouraging, and can help you stay confident and motivated in the face of disappointing results.

Of course, the danger here is that if you take this too far, you could find yourself making excuses and explaining away everything instead of taking ownership of the adjustments you could make to your preparation.

Which is where the growth mindset kicks in.

2) Growth mindset

Some of the athletes noted that slumps represent an opportunity to grow, learn, and become an even better player. Or at least, get better at handling inevitable future slumps. As one athlete noted:

“Rough patches are just as good as your better patches in a way, because it’s teaching you the game . . . because you’re not thinking about your game when you’re doing well.”

I love that last sentence. Indeed, when things are going well, we’re less inclined to pick apart our weaknesses and work as diligently at getting better. But the feedback we get when we run into problems can be invaluable, and make it much easier to pinpoint those sneaky hidden things that we most need to work on. 

[One of my acting teachers admonished us that we learn more from our failures than we do from our successes.  As Dr. Kageyama observes of musicians, actors seldom examine what we did when a performance goes well.  Sometimes we’re just satisfied with the positive outcome (and, when it comes, the reception) and don’t think about it further.  Other times, we don’t want to mess with the magic by analyzing it to look at how the parts worked.  When a scene, a gesture, or a line doesn’t work—then we pull apart the performance to try to see why.

[In a late rehearsal for a Revolutionary War play—one of the final dress run-throughs at which there was an invited audience—I nailed a moment when my character is mortally wounded in a battle scene.  It’s virtually a death scene—except that the character comes back briefly as a dying captive—and he’s shot, his sword drawn and raised in the air, in the midst of rallying his soldiers. 

[I was high above the audience on a bridge spanning the auditorium and the spectators burst into thunderous applause at the moment I fell to my knees, my sword falling from my hand.  It was a heady experience and everyone, including the other member of the large cast, was astonished.  ‘I got this scene.’ I assured myself.  ‘I killed it!’  Opening night—nothing.  ‘What  did I do wrong?’ I wondered, crestfallen.  I tried and tried to figure out what I did at that rehearsal that I failed to do later: timing, line reading, gesture, substitution, endowment, inner object, or some other overlooked technique?  I kept trying, analyzing—but I never got back that moment.]

THEME #2: MAINTAINING A POSITIVE MENTAL STATE DURING COMPETITION

Looking at our slumps in the larger context of lifelong growth and development can help us maintain the motivation we need to keep putting in the work.

But a slump can affect our experience during performances as well. Because sometimes a string of subpar performances can lead to more doubts and negative internal chatter when we’re on stage. Or, we might feel additional pressure to prove ourselves, and end up trying too hard to avoid mistakes, which paradoxically, can lead to more mistakes.

So how did these athletes stay in a good headspace during their slumps?

3) “Best performance” imagery

Under pressure, our thoughts can easily veer towards memories of times when we cracked a note, or when our bow shook in a quiet exposed passage. Or, we might start worrying about having a memory slip, as we sit and stew backstage.

To combat this, some of the athletes engaged in “best performance” imagery. Meaning, they made an effort to visualize times in the past when they were playing at their best. Which sounds straightforward enough, but here’s a quick test – how many specific auditions or performances can you think of, right now, off the top of your head, when you were having one of those awesome days where everything works?

Maybe 1? 2? Perhaps none? It often takes a couple minutes (if not much longer!) to recall performances like this from your past. But if you can’t see them vividly in your head now, imagine how much tougher it’ll be under pressure!

Not to worry though, because if you practice remembering these moments and visualizing them a tiny bit every day, these will be much more “top of mind” when you need something to shield you from those little doubts and fears that start creeping in on audition day.

[The parallels with an actor’s situation are obvious here.  Every actor has “gone up” on a line, missed an entrance cue, or reached for a prop that wasn’t there.  Those are the pitfalls of live performance as all performing artists know.  I’m sure it’s the same for dancers and musicians, but actors know they are the ones out there under a spotlight and when they screw up, it’s in front of God and everybody.  The psychological repercussions are huge, and hard to shake—especially when that particular moment comes around again. 

[Dr. Kageyama’s probably right, though I’ve never tried it: flash on one of the good moments you’ve had.  One of my best came in a scene-study class.  I’d been working for a while but decided I needed to go back to class (for reasons I’ll mention later).  This was an audition class, practice for cold readings.  I was assigned a scene from Tennessee Williams’s The Rose Tattoo, a scene between a young man and a young girl whom he loves with a very protective mother. 

[In the reading, I instinctively reached to caress the actress’s arm—but I stopped short and pulled back, afraid to be too forward.  The class actually gasped.  I don’t even remember what the teacher said to me in his critique—I was still lost in that moment that seemed so perfectly right.  I don’t think I could ever have created that moment if I’d planned it, and I doubt I could have repeated it if I did that scene again.  But at that reading, in that moment, I got it.  And obviously, I haven’t forgotten it even after . . . well, a lot of years.  I still take pleasure in reliving that brief moment in class; it can make up for a lot of mistakes.]

4) Attention control

Another strategy the athletes relied on was attention control. And the ability to focus only on what was in front of them in the moment. As one athlete said:

“You break it down to each ball, and each ball you say I’m going to deliver my skills here, just concentrate on every ball and just compete, just compete and think what does this team need right now, that’s the most important thing.”

For a musician, this might involve focusing on maintaining an internal pulse, shaping each phrase, or hearing the sound you want in your head as you play, instead of looking ahead, critiquing what just happened, or worrying about what people will think.

[Actors often refer to this as ‘being in the moment.’  It means believing in the circumstances of the scene you’re in and accepting it all as real and not concerning yourself with what happened during the performance of the  previous scenes or worrying about what’s coming up.  It also means playing your role and responding to the other actors on stage with you and not thinking about how your costume or hair looks or that guy in the second row having a coughing jag.

[I once thought I was fully engaged in a scene, sitting at a small table down front with a young woman, when I was pulled out because I heard snoring.  I thought an audience member in the front row had fallen asleep and was sawing away at a log!  I was actually at the point of saying something when I realized just in time that it was my scene partner, whose character had dozed off.  Never mind that she’d never done that before (that I’d noticed), but I was obviously not really in the scene or I’d have seen my “lady friend” nod off.]

5) Regulating arousal

Most of the athletes also noted the importance of learning how to stay calm and slow things down, instead of getting overexcited and magnifying the importance of every play.

This is easier said than done, but learning how to regulate your physical state is a skill that we can get better at with practice. How? Well, techniques like diaphragmatic breathing can give us more control over the physical part of our stress response (even though yes, telling people to breathe when they’re stressed is a total cliche).

The only problem, of course, is that this is a skill, and requires practice, just like anything else (you can learn more about how this kind of breathing affects us, and how do it correctly at bulletproofmusician.com.)

THEME #3: PROTECTIVE FACTORS

Lastly, the researchers described several “protective factors” that seemed to help athletes deal with the stress of poor performances and bounce back more effectively.

6) Enjoyment

Remembering that they enjoyed playing cricket, despite it also being their livelihood, was one protective factor.

“I just enjoy playing cricket, it’s something I’ve been brought up on and it’s something I would like to be involved in for as long as possible. If that means dragging myself down the nets or improving my fitness to get me through a bad run, then so be it.”

When was the last time you took a piece out of your music drawer, just to play through for fun? I’m not sure why that seems like such an unusual thing to do, but sometimes putting your audition repertoire aside for a moment, and taking a few minutes to play something you enjoy (a.k.a. “deliberate play”), might be an absolutely worthwhile use of your time. Especially if it helps you reconnect to the reason why you’re practicing and working so hard in the first place.

[This is one of the instances in Dr. Kageyama’s thesis that is different for musicians and actors.  A musician can pull out her instrument and a sheet of music and play for her own pleasure.  An actor can’t really just do a little acting in his living room.  (It’s one reason many actors keep taking classes all through their careers, even after they’ve become established—so they can keep their acting muscles limber between shows and movies and work on material they don’t get to do otherwise.)  

[But some actors do put together or join play-reading groups so they can get together with other actors and read scripts they love, especially plays or parts they don’t get to do in their professional lives.  It’s recreational and voluntary, not something that they have to do to make a living or advance their careers.  It’s not as easy for an actor to do this as it is for a musician, but the benefit is the same: you’re doing what makes you love your profession.]

7) Linking confidence to effort, not performance

One of the more intriguing observations was how many of the athletes deliberately worked to separate confidence from performance.

“I try to link my confidence to my effort, not my performance. So I’m doing everything I can to give myself the best chance of performing, and effort being the measure of your confidence level would give you more stability, because with the best will in the world, if you just base your confidence on your performance, it’s just the nature of the game, you could be in the best “nick” [form] of your life and still get nought if you get a good ball.”

Indeed, you can play a great audition and get cut. Conversely, you can play a mediocre round and still advance. Getting too caught up in results can therefore not only be pretty confusing, but is a rather unstable way to build confidence.

Meanwhile, the one thing you do have complete control over is your preparation. And so if you feel really good about the quality of your daily practice, and know you’ve thoughtfully incorporated run-throughs, recordings, and mocks into your process, etc., etc., it’s easier to trust and take confidence from the work you’ve put in, and stay in a good headspace on audition day. 

[This is another reason actors continue to take classes or work with a coach.  We don’t do “daily practice” like musicians and dancers.  (Although Uta Hagen did invent her “Object Exercises” for this purpose.)  It’s also a way to keep abreast of your technique, which, if taken for granted, can evaporate just when you need it in a performance or an audition. 

[The ultimate result of practicing an acting technique, whosever system you follow, is that it becomes an autonomic response to an acting situation, no longer a conscious effort that an actor has to contemplate separate from her or his inspiration.  But every now and then, it needs to be exercised willfully just to remind you that it’s there, waiting to be used.  Once you learn to trust it, have confidence in it, however, it becomes part of you, part of your art.

[But Dr. Kageyama is right as far as actors are concerned as well when he advises the they use all the available resources to backstop their prep for a performance or an audition.  One of my acting teachers recommended, among other, more obvious materials, plays of the era in which the one you’re preparing is set and portraits—yes, in art museums—of people from the period, locale, and class from which your character comes.  He also suggested songs and dances of the period as useful clues.]

[Editorial note: I wasn’t sure what “mocks” means in Dr. Kageyama’s use here, and trying to look it up led nowhere.  The closest I came on my own was “mockery,” meaning a parody of a piece of music, but when I turned to my friend  Kirk Woodward, who’s my go-to guy for most things musical, he suggested that Kageyama means “mock-up,” which he defines as “a preliminary recording, not for release but kind of a ‘proof of concept’—kind of like a ‘demo tape’ or ‘demo recording,’ but for internal use, so they can listen to it and figure out what the real recording will need.” 

[Kirk added that “if I’m correct, the article is saying that one way you’d prepare for a musical audition or a musical job interview is to do a recording more or less the way you’d do it for real, but not worrying about production quality, etc.—just on getting the basics down, so you have confidence in what you’ll be doing later for real.  (If anyone has a different idea what “mocks” means in this context, please let me know.  ~Rick)]

8) Support

Nearly all of the athletes also noted the importance of having a supportive, trusting relationship in their lives, that helped them maintain perspective during the difficult times. Sometimes it was a coach or more experienced teammate, but often, it was someone outside of cricket, who helped to remind them that they weren’t just a cricket player, but a son, a friend, and a human being with value and worth regardless of what happened in their last match.

“If I’m not performing well, then I speak to my father, family time. It doesn’t have to be cricket related . . . I will just go and speak to my dad just about life or other things…It’s important to have someone you can go to when you are going through bad form, whether that’s a family member, a friend, someone that you are very close to that you trust . . . My dad will just talk to me and give me a lot of confidence . . . he just says to me you know “keep going,” “you’re good enough,” . . . it gives me that inner confidence because he knows me, he’s known me all my life.”

[There came a time, after I’d been chasing the rainbow’s end for several years, when I was so discouraged that I was ready to quit.  My parents had been very supportive from the moment I started down the road in pursuit of a life in the theater.  (They came up to New York from Washington, D.C., to see everything I did, including plays I directed with middle-schoolers in Brooklyn and high-schoolers in New Jersey!)  

[When I told my folks what I was contemplating—I had gotten my MFA in acting and by this time had joined Actors’ Equity, SAG, and AFTRA, the principal actors’ unions—my dad said something that I will never forget: “Don’t quit.  You’re too good.  Give it more time.”  It was what I needed someone to say to me at that time.]

Takeaways

Every slump is probably a little different, of course. And sometimes one strategy might be more relevant and useful than another.

But many of these strategies and mindset tweaks sound like pretty healthy habits to adopt anyway, whether you’re experiencing a slump or not. And I’d like to think that in the same way that eating your veggies, sleeping well, and washing your hands after you’ve been in the subway can help protect you from the flu, maybe cultivating these habits could help you become more slump-resistant too!

Reference

Christopher J. Brown, Joanne Butt, and Mustafa Sarkar, “Overcoming Performance Slumps: Psychological Resilience in Expert Cricket Batsmen,” Journal of Applied Sport Psychology 2019, 1-20.

[Performance psychologist Dr. Noa Kageyama serves on the faculty of the Juilliard School and the New World Symphony, where he specializes in teaching performing artists how to utilize sport psychology principles to perform up to their abilities under pressure. Also a conservatory-trained violinist with degrees from Juilliard and Oberlin College, Dr. Kageyama’s understanding of performance pressure and excellence come from his own experiences on the concert stage from the age of two.

[Through 23 years of training, complete with television and radio appearances, solo performances with orchestra, and international competitions, he experienced first-hand the discipline, hard work, and perseverance it takes to reach an expert level of performance—as well as the frustration of performing poorly at the worst possible moments. Dr. Kageyama’s writing has been featured in media outlets ranging from the Wall Street Journal to Lifehacker, and he has provided seminars for institutions and organizations such as the New England Conservatory of Music, U.S. Armed Forces School of Music, Perlman Music Program, Starling-Delay Symposium, Music Teachers’ National Association, and the National Association for Teachers of Singing.

[Send feedback to Dr. Kageyama at bulletproofmusician.com, where this piece originated. Reprinted in Allegro with permission from the author.]

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