Performance Anxiety: Not Just for Students
by Alexandra Doyle
For most performers, anxiety is a familiar frenemy, constantly lurking in the wings at every concert. In some ways, stage fright is the most universal experience that musicians can have, because it affects everyone from the 5-year-old beginner at their first violin recital to the amateur playing a community band concert, and even includes the professional concerto soloist playing the same piece they’ve played a dozen times before. Even the most calm and collected of musicians feels that cold sweat occasionally.
As a new college professor myself, one of the most heartbreaking experiences I’ve had is seeing a student give a less-than-their-best performance because of nerves. Undergraduates especially seem to think that having this fear in the first place is a deficiency, which is perhaps the most heartbreaking thing of all. The topic recently came up in my studio class when a freshman player was visibly distressed after her performance, and during that discussion, it occurred to me that our students don’t realize that the pros get nervous, too—we’ve just learned ways to work around it (or through it).
In this article, I’d like to offer some nerve-reducing tips I’ve picked up over the years, but I’d also like to help fight the stigma surrounding this elephant on the stage. Admitting to performance anxiety doesn’t make anyone a lesser player, but failing to acknowledge it as a near-universal experience can be detrimental to students’ growth and self-confidence. Being nervous doesn’t disqualify a young musician from pursuing a performance-based career, but if we don’t openly address this as a regular part of performing, many of these students will walk away from the stage and never have their chance to shine.
The Artist-Athlete
As musicians, we occupy a weird space on the spectrum of artists. Painters, for example, do a physical task when they paint, but they can often set their own terms and timeline for their work, rather than having to perform at a given time. Dancers, on the other hand, do an extremely physical form of art that requires intense physical fitness to even attempt. Musicians lie somewhere in the middle, where many describe us as “small-muscle athletes”—you don’t need to be able to run a mile to be a trumpet player, but you need dexterity, speed, and endurance in muscles that most people rarely even think about. Not only that, but our performances take place during a specific window of time, so we have to be physically ready when the curtain rises.
Try to think about your next big performance or audition the same way a football player would need to think about their next big game. The way you treat your body in the hours, days, and even weeks leading up to that performance can have a huge impact on your performance in the moment. The better your body feels, the more confident you will feel, and of course, your muscles will work better if they have been both rested and fueled up before the big game.
A big part of your day-of preparation should be monitoring your caffeine and water intake. As a person with a mild coffee addiction, I’ve found that having my regular cup of coffee the same morning as an audition gives me severe jitters. Instead, I opt for a large iced tea so that I’m still awake, but not literally quaking in my boots from the caffeine-meets-adrenaline overload. Drinking plenty of water is, of course, mandatory to keep your brain and body in good working order, too.
The days before an audition or other scary performance, plan your gym visits or workout classes ahead of time. Remember that even a little bit of exercise can move your body from fight-or-flight mode into calm—the so-called “lizard brain” can’t distinguish between your terror at playing a recital in two days and the terror of being chased by a lion. If you hop on a treadmill for 20 minutes the day before your recital, your lizard brain will think that you’ve outrun the lion and turn off fight-or-flight mode entirely. Plus, you’ll sleep much better that night, too!
Also, be aware of the kind of fuel you’re putting into your body. I’m unfortunately dairy-positive but lactose-intolerant. Before a big performance, I’ll avoid all dairy for a few days and make sure I’m eating foods that will have me at my absolute best. Remember that your body is a fancy machine, and this is the time to put the premium gasoline in it!
Create Space for Your Thoughts
If you struggle with anxiety on or off the stage, you might benefit from either a meditation practice or cognitive-behavioral therapy. Both of these aim to create a kind of gap between you and your thoughts. For example, maybe you’re about to play an orchestral audition, and you suddenly think, “Oh no, what if I squeak on the first note of the Mozart? That would be so embarrassing.” That kind of thought might spark an avalanche of scary thoughts that make it difficult to play your best. Both meditation and this kind of therapy work towards helping you see that thought and say to yourself, “Dang, that would suck, but I would try to keep playing my best after that squeak.” Creating space between your thoughts and your emotional responses to those thoughts can make a big difference in your experience of performance anxiety, especially if your anxiety surfaces as these kinds of intrusive thoughts. While therapy can be expensive, there are many guided meditations online that are free, so why not give one a try?
Prescription-Strength Calm
Now’s the time for what you’ve all been waiting for: my own personal performance anxiety story. I’ll try to make it short and sweet.
I have struggled with anxiety, both performance-related and not, for my entire life. Needless to say, this became an enormous issue when I started taking orchestral auditions as a graduate student. I knew I was improving dramatically as a player, but I wasn’t seeing any success behind the screen. I would practice as much as I could and would still go into an audition and make dumb mistakes due to nerves—so much so that I failed my master’s degree excerpt board. I’ve always played fine in every other context, but in any kind of audition, I would completely clam up.
I’d heard about beta blockers, normally prescribed for high blood pressure but also for performance, public speaking, and social anxiety, since my undergraduate studies, but I was trying to do the “professional” thing and basically just get over it. I tried every trick in the book and every platitude people threw at me, including doing the Superman pose before playing, visualizing myself being successful, imagining myself alone in the hall, etc. I can’t explain why I struggled with this for so long without seeking medical assistance, other than that I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it alone.
I reached a breaking point in an audition I took during my doctoral studies. I felt really good about the audition and my preparation for it, and I didn’t feel nervous at all going into the room. I wasn’t shaking or anything like that; I felt focused. I started playing down the list, and when I got to the first movement solo from Brahms’ Symphony No. 3, a solo I knew backwards and forwards, I simply missed notes. It’s not a particularly fast or technical solo; I just wasn’t thinking straight. I had solved the shaking hands on my own, but my lizard brain was still focusing on running away from the lion instead of playing my clarinet.
I knew as soon as I finished that excerpt that I needed to get a prescription for beta blockers. I had done my absolute best to fix this on my own, and it wasn’t good enough—and that’s okay. In retrospect, I wish I had sought out a prescription sooner. For crying out loud, I have clinical anxiety! I was starting a metaphorical marathon 10 miles behind everybody else and expecting to win, and that’s not even close to a fair fight.
For me, beta blockers are the answer, as well as some supplemental anxiety medications that I take regularly. These medications help me stay focused and let me play to the best of my ability, rather than feel like I’m playing through a fog, but everything else on this list has a role to play, too. By putting all these things into practice, I can make sure my lizard brain is sunning itself on a rock instead of trying to outrun that lion.
That doesn’t mean I don’t get any performance anxiety, but it means I have learned to work through it. I still get nervous for auditions, and one of the things that scares me the most is playing for my students! Sometimes I even feel the familiar adrenaline rush when one of my students gets onstage for a recital (but don’t tell them that). These days, when I ask my peers about their pre-performance routines, most of them mention beta blockers. While many of us are understandably hesitant to tell our students to go get a prescription for something, we should be honest with them about how those little pills are a core part of how we are able to do our jobs so well.
In closing, let’s try to begin more conversations about our own struggles and successes with performance anxiety, and let’s also be more open about the times when “mind over matter” isn’t going to cut it. Sometimes, we need to resort to science, and it’s time that wasn’t such a dirty little secret.
Editor’s Note: This article is the sole opinion of the author and does not constitute an endorsement from the ICA or TCO of any medical advice. Always consult a medical professional for any medical advice.
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