ISTDP and Performing
(Select from the list below to jump to the corresponding topic on this page)
ISTDP and Performing: an intro to the content here
Pathways of Anxiety: the different ways the body channels anxiety
Performing with Anxiety in Striated: a demonstration
Performing Strategy for Higher Anxiety: when emotions aren’t available
Self-Doubt Is a Defense: learn to believe in yourself instead of a cruel lie
Don’t Let Rumination Ruin Your Entrances: staying in the here and now to deliver your best performance
Letting Go and Playing with Conviction: resolving competing interests in your mind
The Critic: overcoming an authority figure from the past
Sensory Deprivation and the Superego: learning to work with a transformed inner judge
Once More with Feeling: aiming for emotional freedom
Meditation: a familiar concept applied differently
Yoga Breathing: a little useful tip
When I am dealing with the pressures that come along with performing music, I use strategies based on something called ISTDP. Although ISTDP has a cumbersome acronym (standing for Intensive Short-Term Dynamic Psychotherapy) the concepts that come out of it can be extremely useful and are easy to put into practice.
Nearly 100% of all the performance anxiety content out there is based on something called the Cognitive model. My goal here is to present an alternative derived from ISTDP that can help people who are feeling held back by angst on stage and haven’t yet found the solution in conventional wisdom or in the performing anxiety material that’s out there on the market now. As far as I know, I am the only musician making content applying ISTDP to music. I have a YouTube channel for which I make videos about performing and how I use ISTDP, and I post articles here on my website.
In a nutshell, the theory behind ISTDP is that anxiety comes from deep and unresolved conflicting feelings. These feelings, and the way we have learned to deal with them, come from personal relationships we experienced in childhood, difficult relationships that, as children, we weren’t yet equipped to handle. The details obviously vary quite a lot from person to person, but a typical example would be growing up with a harsh authority figure. This person (a parent or teacher perhaps) would have been so critical and unkind that we, as children, would come to feel intense anger towards them. However, because we were children, we were also completely dependent on this authority figure, and likely developed fond feelings for them. These intense conflicting emotions — a mix of love, rage, and particularly guilt over the rage — were difficult to reconcile in our immature minds, and so we learned patterns of thinking and behavior to cover up and avoid them.
The great advantage of ISTDP is that once these difficult feelings have been acknowledged and felt individually in their full intensity, then they are released. Completely and finally. There is consequently no longer anything underneath driving the anxiety. The intense conflicting feelings vanish, and so the anxiety dissipates like clouds in a clearing sky.
Having experienced this myself, I want nothing more than to reach out to other people suffering from anxiety who might benefit from the same kind of release. If this might be you, please check out the videos and articles about ISTDP and performing here on my website.
I believe one of the most groundbreaking concepts from ISTDP research is the discovery that the mind can direct anxiety into three different physical pathways. It’s not just a question of whether you are nervous or not. There are very specific physical symptoms that will tell you precisely where your anxiety is being channeled. Once identified, you can use these signs to point you toward effective ways to cope with anxiety and perform your best.
In my video, Pathways of Anxiety, I perform an excerpt from Nino Rota’s Trombone Concerto, and then go on to talk about these pathways of anxiety. In all, there are three potential ways anxiety might manifest itself. Each has its own particular symptoms. (This list is by no means exhaustive, but includes many of the most common ways anxiety might present itself.)
Striated muscle tension in the hands, shoulders, jaw, neck, intercostal muscles, abdominals, pelvic floor, and the heart (i.e. rapid heart rate)
Smooth muscle tension in the digestive tract (affecting the gut or stomach with nausea, cramps, vomiting, etc.), in the urinary tract (creating an urge to go to the bathroom), and in other body systems, causing, for example, high blood pressure or migraines
CPD: Cognitive perceptual disruption, with symptoms such as feeling disoriented, engaging in fuzzy thinking, dizziness, fainting, or even, at the highest levels, hallucinations
My current strategy for performing is to identify which pathway my anxiety is taking, and then use the technique that I find most effective to deal with whatever specific kind of anxiety I am experiencing. I have found that the simplest and quickest way to start identifying your anxiety is to look out for sighing. (This is how ISTDP therapists recognize their patients’ anxiety.) If you find yourself sighing, you have anxiety being channeled into your striated muscles.
Sighing = Striated
If you aren’t sighing, then your anxiety is either in the smooth muscles or causing CPD.
With anxiety causing striated muscle tension, you can still feel your emotions. In addition, the more intensely you focus on your feelings, it has the effect of blocking your anxiety from increasing. That’s because you can either be feeling a feeling or be anxious. They are inversely proportional. So, on the one hand, high anxiety (i.e. smooth muscle or CPD) shuts off emotion. But on the other hand, as you allow yourself to feel emotions more intensely, your anxiety will decrease.
You can see me demonstrate using emotion to perform with a low level on anxiety in Performing with Anxiety in Striated. I discuss a possible technique to playing music while experiencing high anxiety (smooth muscle or CPD) in Performing Strategy for Higher Anxiety
Here is the first video I posted on YouTube: Performing with Anxiety in Striated. I actually recorded it on a bit of a whim. During my morning practice on day, I recognized having some striated muscle anxiety. I thought it would be a good opportunity to demonstrate playing some music with anxiety in striated, a low level of anxiety that still allowed me access to my emotions.
At a high level of anxiety, it is physiologically impossible to feel emotions. In that state, your feelings are simply not within the reach of your mind and body. So, the approach I used in my previous video is just not applicable. What’s more, in a performance setting, it is unworkable to try to regulate your anxiety using ISTDP techniques. You wouldn’t want to do them in front of an audience anyway, and besides, there usually just isn’t time on stage to get your anxiety down.
So, what can you do?
When I have experienced high anxiety in a performance, I have gotten use out of something Arnold Jacobs called “Wind and Song.” As the name suggests, “Wind and Song” consists of two parts: “Wind” has to do with taking full breaths and “Song” is a mental focus on an ideal image, a sound, and/or a musical idea. Basically, you’re breathing deeply and maintaining the most clear picture you can imagine of how you would like the music to go. For example, you can try to hear your own voice singing the phrase or perhaps how you would play it on your best day. You can also imagine a musical hero performing it, as I demonstrate in my video.
Psychologically speaking, Wind and Song works because it is a defense. All of us use defenses in our everyday lives to avoid feelings and anxiety. In ISTDP, you work on identifying defenses that are causing you problems and then you learn to turn against them so you can get to the feelings underneath. Here, with “Wind and Song,” we are using a defense on purpose as a way to help us perform our best.
On stage, I would argue that “Wind and Song’s” positives outweigh its negatives. You are avoiding problematic emotions in order to play music. Perhaps it might make you feel emotionally distant from your audience — and vice versa — but that price might be worth it in order for you to perform effectively. It’s also possible that, after a few minutes, your anxiety might go down and you might be able to play with emotion again.
What would “Wind and Song” look like if you used it in your daily life? You’d be having dinner with your friends or family, and instead of being present with them, you’d be imagining your ideal version of yourself dining with them instead of just being who you are in that moment. You’d be at the grocery store, and instead of just buying the items you needed, you’d be imagining how someone you admire would be shopping. Those examples sound absurd, but I am quite sure there are people who actually live their lives that way, and, unlike in a performance, acting like that is not a conscious choice they would be making for a limited amount of time.
By doing ISTDP treatment, you learn to tolerate and regulate your anxiety, and, as a result, you have much fewer instances of high anxiety. That’s because one of the main goals of ISTDP is for your mind and body to develop the habit of channeling your anxiety into your striated muscles instead of smooth muscles or into disruptive cycles of thought. This is why the kind of high anxiety I describe in my video occurs less frequently, or may even dissipate altogether, after ISTDP treatment.
In this video, Self-Doubt Is a Defense, I begin by playing an excerpt from Stravinsky’s Pulcinella. This suite contains some of the most delightful music in the entire orchestral repertoire. It also displays Stravinsky’s brilliant orchestration throughout.
The reason that I chose to play an excerpt from the Pulcinella Suite for this video is that it is precisely the kind of music that has the potential to provoke self-doubt. Making strong attacks without hesitation, starting each note with full sound, releasing the air on time in coordination with the tongue and embouchure, requires a trombone technique with full commitment to yourself. Any holding back will come across in the start of the note or in the sound.
I have always enjoyed playing Pulcinella, because I like the music so much. However, after ISTDP, it is much easier for me to get the kind of attacks and note shapes that I really would like to get. This is due to being able to break through any self-doubt I might have and commit to myself.
A defense is a habitual way of thinking that we develop unconsciously, which blocks emotions we would like to avoid. It also has the effect of increasing our anxiety. Defenses always include a price to pay as well. In the case of self-doubt on stage, the price is not being able to deliver 100% on what you’d like to do: a suboptimal performance.
ISTDP provides a straight-forward and effective way in neutralizing defenses:
Recognize the defense. They can be surprisingly difficult to detect, because we all use them so continuously in our daily lives. They are everywhere so we don’t notice them, in other words. This first step is often the hardest one.
See the price that the defense extracts. What are the consequences of using the defense? What does it do to your musical performance?
Turn against the defense. Once you have seen the defense and its price, and once you decide, from the bottom of your heart, that enough is enough, you can then push back against the defense. This gives rise to something I like to call the fighting spirit, something that gives you the determination and power to overcome the defense. You no longer believe the lie the defense is telling you and instead believe in yourself. In the case of self-doubt, you no longer believe that you are an unconfident person, but instead believe in your preparation, your talents, and your experience.
Last week, my orchestra performed Verdi’s La Forza del Destino Overture as part of an outdoor Italian opera concert. During the course of the week, I caught myself ruminating before making my entrance in the orchestral excerpt from this work (that is sometimes asked on auditions). I have posted a YouTube video in which I talk in more detail about this potential issue which can come up in performance: Don’t Let Rumination Ruin Your Entrances
Rumination is a mental process in which you go over and over again in your head instances when things didn’t go so well. Maybe you’re suddenly thinking about a rehearsal when you had a hard time making the entrance soft enough, or a day when things just wouldn’t work in the practice room.
It actually doesn’t help to dwell on the content of the rumination. In other words, it won’t stop you from ruminating to argue with yourself about the validity of what you are remembering. The only thing you can do is catch yourself ruminating, identify it, and then bring yourself back to the present moment.
Rumination is related to worrying. Worrying is a mental process in which you go over and over again in your head instances where things might not go so well in the future. Just as with rumination, it doesn’t help you to dive into the content of the worry. Instead, the mere act of catching yourself ruminating or worrying can snap you out of it. “Aha! There is a rumination!”
Both rumination and worrying are defenses. These defenses are created by the mind in reaction to anxiety. Ironically, they actually make anxiety worse. By catching them and being fully in the moment, your anxiety will not continue to increase.
Once you are back in the present and not ruminating or worrying, you can connect with your audience and colleagues. Moreover, you will have full access to your emotions. Once you are connecting and feeling, this acts as a kind of barrier to slipping back into ruminating or worrying.
TV Syd recorded the full performance of the Italian opera program with my orchestra, the South Denmark Philharmonic (Sønderjyllands Symfoniorkester). The overture starts at about the 1:30 mark into the video, which you can see by copying and pasting this address into your browser:
https://www.tvsyd.dk/opera-fra-skamlingsbanken/opera-fra-skamlingsbanken-del-1
I am sure I am not the only musician who has had letting go and playing with conviction as a focus of daily practice and performances. In my accompanying video, I talk about what can stand in the way of this goal: the internal conflict between the ego and superego.
Here I am using the term “ego” not in the popular sense of being egotistical or thinking you are better than everyone else, but rather in the way it is used in ISTDP: your healthy sense of self-preservation, of well-being, of fulfilling your own needs. “Superego” refers to the way we keep control of ourselves so we can fit into our families, friend groups, and society as a whole. It is important to note that these are processes of thinking I am talking about, not actual physical parts of the brain. (One couldn’t request a doctor to perform an “ego-ectemy” even if you really wanted it.)
Whether aware of it or not, we all go through life trying to balance the interests of our ego and superego. Conflict between these sometimes competing brain processes can cause tension and anxiety. Being able to see the ego and superego at work in your mind, and then consciously negotiating a solution between them goes a long way into allowing you to let go and do your best, whether it be in your daily life or on stage. (I go into much greater detail about this in my video.)
What ISTDP has really changed for me personally is the experience that my superego is no longer punitive. The superego can still advise, warn, inform, and critique — as I need it to — but now it does so in a more kind and understanding way. These days, it is much easier for me to look at what I need to work on, develop and communicate internally a concept of how I’d like it to improve, and then put in place a reasonable and humane strategy to achieve the result. To completely honest, I am not sure how effective I could have been, pre-ISTDP, in moderating the urges of my ego with my superego. Back then, it was like trying to talk your way out of jail with a particularly nasty prison guard. It is such a relief for me now to be able to work as one free, whole, unified being.
If you’d like to learn more about what is meant by superego in the context of ISTDP, Dr. Patricia Coughlin has made an informative video about the topic.
The Critic that lives within each of us can be a helpful yet also destructive force. ISTDP has an elegant and effective way of resolving this issue.
Prior to ISTDP, my strategy for dealing with my inner critic was to constantly challenge it. This was exhausting and it didn’t always work. Even in the best of times, it always felt like a fragile ceasefire negotiated with a hostile party. Sometimes I won. Sometimes I didn’t.
What I love about the way ISTDP deals with the inner critic is that it transforms the inner critic into your wingman, your support, your helper — permanently! As a result, you’re able to make decisions about your own practice and performance in a more thoughtful and effective way. You become better at taking direction from conductors and reacting to other musicians. You are able to see the audience as people who simply came to hear some music. You are yourself on stage.
This particular issue is one that is incredibly difficult to deal with by yourself. And so, I really would recommend reaching out to an ISTDP therapist if you feel like you are struggling with your inner critic. There is an extensive therapist directory located on the ISTDP Institute website.
When it comes to your inner critic — your superego — ISTDP aims to transform this judgemental voice into a helpful collaborator. Upon completing ISTDP treatment myself, I realized that I had profoundly changed my way of being as a person, but had no idea how to apply what I had learned to music-making. My trombone had been with me going all the way back into my childhood. How would I change deeply-ingrained habits of practicing based on unhelpful ways of thinking I worked hard to abandon?
To this goal of applying ISTDP to practicing my instrument, I experimented with sensory deprivation. The aim was to learn to distinguish in my mind the difference between the internal musical critic (superego) and my musical heart (ego). Then, once able to distinguish clearly between those two, a new agreement could be negotiated between them. Moreover, after completing ISTDP, I felt like my harsh inner critic had changed into a helpful teacher, and while that was a fantastic development, it left me with a peculiar feeling that part of my being had changed so much that I needed to get to know myself again.
I started with the theory that practicing while limiting feedback would decrease the amount of material my superego would have to work with. That way, the information stream to the superego would be slowed-down, reduced enough so that I could consciously decide what’s useful or not. Then, bit by bit, I could see what to prioritize, what’s important to me, and what’s not.
What I did went something like this:
I started with a clear goal I wanted to achieve with a specific exercise or piece of music.
I put on over-the-ear headphones to limit the feedback I would get from my own playing. (I have tried earplugs and earbuds, but I personally find that over-the-ear headphones work best for this exercise. Otherwise I always hear too much distracting noise from inside my mouth. Results might be different if you don’t play a wind instrument.)
I practiced the musical example, focusing on improving _only one_ aspect of my clear goal.
I continued until I achieved a desired level of success, at which point I took off the headphones to hear what it sounded like. At this point, the superego would return in a stronger way and would be more clearly visible to me.
Then, after some length of time repeating this process — sometimes over the course of several days or even longer — I would practice without the headphones. At that point, any time my superego would chime in would be very obvious to me, and then I could simply ask: is this commentary from the superego useful ? I could sort through what might help, and discard what might not.
Here’s a more specific example:
While working on Charles Small’s “Conversation,” I noticed that sometimes my airflow became interrupted by my throat in the double-tonguing sections. So there’s my clear goal: getting a smooth, consistent stream of air in the double-tonguing sections.
I plugged my headphones into the metronome and began at an easy tempo. (A metronome isn’t necessary, but in this example, I used it so I could incrementally increase the speed.)
I gradually raised the tempo, focusing only on the airstream, getting a nice flow.
Once I was satisfied with the result, I took off the headphones and played it again. This point in the experience has always amazed me! That’s because, suddenly, the inner critic appears, the superego. The part of yourself that is doing the judging is in plain view.
I could then apply any useful comments I might get from the superego (keep a sense of musical line, remember the dynamics, make sure the articulation matches the musical style, etc.) and discard what’s not at all helpful (that’s not as fast as so-and-so plays it, you’ve never tried this technique before, etc.).
Another reason that separating ego and superego is so important, is that it flows naturally to the realization that you don’t have to believe the criticism that comes from the superego in order to improve as a musician. One of the lies our inner critic tells us is that we have to constantly criticize ourselves in order to get better. Yes, the superego can give helpful feedback, but there is a huge difference between “I criticize my trombone playing sometimes” and “I am a bad trombone player.” If you believe you are bad, you are kind of stuck. How can you develop past that? However, if you see self-criticism for what it really is — a tool — then you can use what is helpful (like advising you on use of vibrato in the “Tuba Mirum” solo from Mozart’s Requiem) and discard what is not (comparing yourself to other people, for example).
I used to sub a lot with Seattle Symphony. In those days, John Cerminaro was Principal Horn. I noticed that he had a consistent routine to prepare for performances: he would set up in the orchestra’s break room and drink tea. It seemed as if he did this to get himself in the right state of mind to perform. I happened to be in the break room during one of these preparatory rituals when I heard him say, “playing first horn in an orchestra is controlled rage.” Despite only having heard that comment in passing, it has really stuck with me through the years.
On another occasion with Seattle Symphony, I played in a small ensemble with Yo-Yo Ma and his Silk Road Ensemble. One piece on the program featured Yo-Yo Ma with three trombones. I will never forget the unique way Yo-Yo Ma connected with the audience for the performances. It was as if he opened his heart and shared love with everyone listening to him. It was an exchange of pure joy.
After undergoing ISTDP, I have a much better understanding of what emotions like rage and joy feel like in the body: the warm tingle of anger building in the limbs, urging some kind of action; the elated serene lightness of joy and love, content with smiling eyes.
The discovery of consistent physical manifestations of emotion among all human beings seems to me to be genius of the highest level. Anger, grief, guilt, love, and the anxiety that covers them all have each very specific and general ways they are experienced in the body by each and every person. This is not widely known, despite the solid and extensive scientific evidence behind it. Prior to ISTDP, I certainly didn’t know what anger actually felt like in my body. (Like many people commonly do, I confused it with anxiety.) In our society, emotions are very often misinterpreted, misunderstood, or incorrectly identified, and then labeled as being right or wrong. With ISTDP, you learn to acknowledge, experience, and accept whatever you are feeling.
Furthermore, you learn that experiencing an emotion doesn’t mean that you have to act on it. Feelings just “want” to be acknowledged. To imagine acting out a feeling — defined as a portrayal in ISTDP — can give just as much relief as if you really were to act out an emotional impulse. This is a borderline taboo topic, and perhaps the source of any controversy surrounding ISTDP. However, when a conductor is nasty to you in rehearsal, you can get enormous relief by simply _imagining_ what you might do, were you to give in to your impulses. Acknowledge this part of you. You might even feel sorry about it afterwards and gain understanding about their perspective! When a colleague plays a beautiful solo and sets up your entrance perfectly, you can imagine going over to hug them in mid-performance. When the music swells and calls for you to be heroic, you allow the courage to swell up inside as you imagine yourself rising up to meet the challenge.
Here’s how this knowledge of the very specific ways emotions feel can be, I think, an absolute game-changer for musicians: when you are feeling an emotion purely and intensely, anxiety drops. It is a fact of being human that this happens. If you are in deep contact with a feeling, you are physically unable to be anxious. You can sing from your heart and play with emotion. However, if you don’t know what an emotion feels like, i.e. how you actually experience it in your body, how the heck can you know whether what you are feeling is indeed an emotion or if it is instead some kind of anxiety or a defense?
I am not saying that people should just get swept up in the music and play whatever they feel like. I am also not suggesting that you should whip yourself into a rage or cry out in devastating grief prior to going on stage. Not at all. My colleagues and friend-of-the-week on the podium would certainly not appreciate that! What I am going for is a kind of emotional freedom in a performance. Whether it be an enthusiasm for the music, enjoying the craft of making a sound on the trombone, getting into the magic of what happens with a musician standing in front of an audience, or, yes, dealing with a demanding conductor; the freedom to be yourself is both exhilarating and rewarding to performers and listeners alike.
What is truly amazing to me is that, when you are deeply connected to an emotion, experiencing it fully, you also have total access to your intellect and every aspect of your conscious mind. Emotions give a performance focus and purpose, and expressing them to an audience can give meaning to what you do. It is actually anxiety that blocks the flow, not emotions.
So what I am wondering now is this: did John Cerminaro and Yo-Yo Ma know this on some level? Is this what they were trying to communicate through their words backstage and their performances in front of that day’s concertgoers?
I first started meditating soon after Ray Premru handed me a copy of “Inner Game of Tennis” in 1993. That was 28 years ago, and I have been meditating regularly since then. I have gone through stretches when I’ve really been into it, and found it to be super helpful staying calm and focused on stage. Other times, I have felt like it made my trombone playing boring, and laid off it a bit. I was completely unable to distinguish why it had sometimes worked and other times not.
The insights of ISTDP led me to look into the different ways people meditate and see if I couldn’t solve the dilemma of how to meditate in a way that would add peace and calm to my performances, but that wouldn’t make my music making bland and uninteresting. I think I’ve found an answer, and it doesn’t have anything to do with technique. I continue to meditate just like I always have, simply sitting in a quiet place, either on a cushion or in a chair, and counting my natural breaths, one through ten, over and over again, for about ten minutes each day.
The difference I’ve discovered is in the intention of the meditation. With the kind of meditation I do, it is possible to either become more connected with your inner life or detach from it. Niether way is right or wrong, per se; however, detaching is a psychological defense. It has the effect of distancing you from feeling. That makes for boring performances, not to mention a life cut off from the richness and complexity of who you really are.
Meditating to connect with yourself reveals to you how you are doing at that moment. What you are feeling. What is distracting you. What defenses you might be using. What emotions are presenting themselves, requesting to be acknowledged. That is incredibly useful information that helps you navigate your performances as well as your life itself!
A few years ago, my orchestra performed Verdi’s Requiem at the Laeiszhalle in Hamburg, Germany. That was a very cool experience! The morning of the concert, I visited the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe. There happened to be an exhibit on Buddhist art, and I stumbled upon an inscription on a statue depicting Taoist meditation that took my breath away:
“Self-realization through the transference of the primal energy of life into human existence.”
This is precisely the goal of both the kind of meditation I am now doing and also the purpose of ISTDP.
Here’s a short little video I made about using yoga breathing to slow your pulse.
Once you’ve gotten proficient at recognizing what kind of anxiety you are experiencing, you can choose the tools that will be most effective in lowering and/or coping with that anxiety. Rapid pulse is a symptom of anxiety being directed into striated muscle tissue, and, while rapid pulse may not necessarily have a direct effect on the way you play, it can give an unpleasant physical sensation. The simple yoga breathing technique of four in, hold for seven, and eight out can effectively lower your pulse and make you feel more comfortable.