Performance and Anxiety: simple steps for success

by XENIA PESTOVA BENNETT

Please enjoy this article from the latest issue of the British Flute Society journal Pan. For more guidance on playing - as well as features, interviews, news, events and reviews - sign up to receive Pan and many other benefits by joining the BFS.

Performance anxiety can arrive like an unwelcome guest, sneaking up on us unannounced. At other times, it remains inexplicably absent or lurks menacingly in the background. Symptoms vary, but many of us are likely to be familiar with this list: shaky hands, tunnel vision, dry mouth, rapid heartbeat and breathing, strange gastrointestinal activity (to say the least), cold and sweaty hands—the latter being the worst possible combination for a musician!

During my studies, there was a rumour circulating about one of my professors. Allegedly, this person requested to have a big plastic bucket placed at the back of the stage during a concert in case they suddenly had to evacuate their lunch. On one particularly memorable occasion several years ago, I felt so nauseous before a performance that I adopted this dubious safety-net approach myself (you will be relieved to hear that the dreaded expulsion did not happen). If only I had better tools and models to work with then! Unfortunately, performance anxiety was never really addressed by my teachers. I was simply told to practise more, to perform more, to get used to it. Stage fright was also a taboo topic amongst fellow musicians. We all struggled in silence while trying to come up with our own coping strategies.

“What we resist, persists”—the more I tried to push back uncomfortable racing thoughts and unpleasant sensations, the stronger they became. Years later after much research and experimentation, I realised that we can take simple steps to help ourselves. I asked myself a question: what if instead of fighting anxiety, I work to accept and “befriend” it—could I learn some- thing from the experience and treat it as a guide and a friend instead of an enemy? What is the message my anxiety is sending out over and over again? How can I take better care of myself before, during and after challenging situations?

This is the approach we take in introspective practices such as mindfulness and Alexander Technique or slow, deliberate physical work like Yin Yoga or Qi Gong: observing the breath, the body, sensations, thoughts, feelings, sounds. Instead of trying to change conditions and events, we see if it is possible to just let things be as they are—even if the breathing is rapid, the body trembles, our hands are cold, we are feeling apprehensive or negative. Noticing and holding what happens in a soft and open field of awareness while we continue with whatever we are doing (or not doing, if we are just sitting) can sometimes allow anxiety symptoms to come and go without lingering for as long as if we were to focus on them. However, it certainly doesn’t come naturally, nor will it work like a magic pill. Like anything worth mastering, we have to practise.

I would like to share several interventions with you. Please experiment and then commit to those that resonate with you for a period of time, perhaps a month, and do the exercises on a regular basis—ideally every time you pick up your instrument so that you can then access the same approaches during an actual performance.

Before performing

1 What do you do while you are waiting to play in front of people? Is your mind racing, getting caught up in worry loops? What if you were to take your attention out of these neural pathways and into the physical sensation of your body through movement? Try this Qi Gong exercise: stand (or sit) with your feet hip-width apart, release your arms down by your sides and allow them to swing forwards and backwards as you keep the knees soft, allowing them to spring up and down gently with the movement. Keep the breath flowing, do not try to “control” the pendulum-like movement of the arms. Let them be completely relaxed. Do this for a couple of minutes before coming to a stop.

2 How about once you are out in front of people, do you take time to ground yourself before you play your first note? This “three grounds” exercise is adapted from the teachings of Yin Yoga and mindfulness master Sarah Powers. Check that your weight is equally distributed between the feet (or your sitting bones), notice the sensation of the ground, supporting you. Notice the grounding movement of the breath, just as it is, wherever you feel it most at that moment—our breath is always with us, for as long as we are alive. Lastly, place your attention into your centre of gravity, the steady presence of your lower belly, the “centre” of your being (this our vital energy centre, according to many martial arts traditions). Grounding in the belly momentarily takes us out of our customary head-centred orientation and connects us with the body. You can even place one hand softly on your lower belly to make that connection. Do this exercise for a few seconds every time before you make music on your own. Once it becomes comfortable and easy, you can take a moment to ground yourself before playing with others and performing as well. Nobody has to know you are doing it, it’s a perfect “secret weapon”.

3 Another subtle exercise (which can also be done anywhere, at any time) is “Equal Parts Breath”. This is an ancient yogic practice. It can be done it sitting or standing: I recommend using this as another check-in before you play on your own before taking it into more challenging situations. Notice the length of your inhale and exhale. Is one longer than the other, or are they approximately the same? Start slowing down your breath in a comfortable way (this can be tricky if the heart rate is up, but it is possible!). Work to gradually make both the inhale and the exhale approximately the same length. Try counting to about 2 or 5 seconds. You can also combine this with movement and add a Qi Gong exercise to your slow rhythmic breathing while you wait backstage: standing with your feet hip-width apart and softening the knees, inhale while raising your arms with the palms facing up and elbows soft to about chest height. Exhale as you lower
the arms with the palms facing down as if pushing down coffee grinds in a percolator. Do this for a few rounds in order to start feeling the benefits.

During the performance

4 When we feel rushed or stressed, the “fight or flight” response of our sympathetic nervous system can take over and make us overemphasise the inhale (or even hold our breath). Remember to exhale fully. The exhale is associated with the para-sympathetic “rest and digest” branch of the nervous system, so see if you can take the time you need between pieces / phrases to really empty your lungs fully of all old, stale air. This will make the subsequent inhale easier and you won’t feel like you are fighting or gasping for breath.

5 Slow down—do everything deliberately slower than you think you should, as if you are looking through a magnifying glass and objects become bigger! As our heart rate rises during the sympathetic nervous system response, we tend to rush. Take extra time between pieces and movements, before you start, as you take your bow. Play a little slower than what feels appropriate in that moment—most likely, you will take just the right tempo this way instead of starting too fast and compromising your performance.

6 Experiment with widening your focus of awareness. Notice your peripheral vision and see how softening and relaxing your gaze in this way can make it easier to read music, seeing what is coming (as opposed to a narrow “tunnel vision” focus, trying to “grab” each note as you pass it, which actually slows down reading). Become aware of sensations in the body, sounds around you, thoughts and feelings when you have a moment (before playing / between movements / during long rests). Instead of focussing on worry, fear or unpleasant thoughts and feelings, we can notice what else is going on in and around us, softening and widening the “lens” of experience. Practise this as a mini-mindfulness exercise on a regular basis as you go through your day to make it feel familiar before incorporating it into performance. You can even set an alarm to remind you to stop and “take stock” in this way at certain times such as breaks from work.

7 When we practise, we look back. We are continuously evaluating how things are going and what we need to do to fix mistakes. When we perform, we look forward to what’s coming instead. Leave analysis to another time, become a Zen master, listen to the music you are making as it happens and look ahead. One of my performer colleagues pictures an imaginary pint of beer on the last page of the music to give them something to look forward to. While I don’t necessarily advocate for beer, it’s nice to think of a lovely treat you can give yourself to congratulate yourself on rising up to the challenge. What will it be for you? Look forwards, not backwards.

After performing

8 Do you habitually tell yourself that you played badly? Listeners who congratulate and thank you afterwards most likely don’t share that view. In fact, they certainly did not notice all the mistakes that you are aware of. Take time to offer yourself some kindness and reassurance instead. It can make your audience feel demoralised if they are enthusiastic about your performance and you greet them with a frown, acting apologetic. Forget modesty: smile and accept compliments graciously—even if you have to “fake it until you make it”!

9 Plan and look forward to your next performance. Can you organise a Zoom or Skype recital for friends and family? What about your colleagues? Members of your flute choir? Take advantage of the situation to create new performance opportunities. How about an online mini-tour, where you play the same little programme or piece to a few different people on several occasions? I find that playing the same pieces multiple times really helps them settle and grow. Exposure therapy can in itself be a wonder cure for performance anxiety, so I always try to arrange not one, but many informal run-through opportunities of the same repertoire before I play it “for real”.

These simple interventions have been of help in my own practice as well as the work of my students. I invite you to come to these exercises with an open and playful mindset, not setting up expectations, but seeing what happens and looking at your experience with fresh eyes. While I can tell you right now that it will not be possible to “eradicate” performance anxiety, you will certainly start noticing ways in which it is helpful to your playing while learning about yourself in the process. Performing music for other people is a wonderful and brave thing to do, it takes us out of our comfort zone and encourages us to grow as musicians and human beings. Go ahead and take some new steps—you might even become friends with your unwelcome guest in the process.