Navigating the Art of Practice

I have played the piano throughout most of my life. For as long as I can remember, it has given me comfort, challenge, and a ton of happiness. 

I started playing when I was about 5 years old, and other than those years when I didn't have a piano of my own, I haven't really stopped since. If I were to guess the number of hours I've spent playing over the years, they would easily add up to thousands. This love for playing has gotten me to a point where I can comfortably tackle most all but the most advanced sheet music that comes my way. And for those songs that I really love and have practiced over and over, I believe I do more than just alright.

Recently, I had this realization that connected my art practice with my music experiences. When I’m painting and checking out other artists’ work, I often catch myself thinking, “Hey, I should be able to do that too. I can make those lines. I can make those marks.” And truthfully, I probably can. I can recreate what I see with decent accuracy.

But does that amount to great art?

This question led me to an eye-opening realization: Just like someone can mechanically press the right piano keys at the perfect time in the correct order doesn't automatically create soul-stirring music, similarly, one can't just slap some lines, colors, and marks on a canvas and produce great art!  What really makes music or art hit home isn't just nailing the technique; it's about pouring your soul into it. It's the emotion behind each note, the passion that brings the music to life, making it connect with anyone listening.

After endless hours of practice, a musician doesn't just play; they let the music play them, turning notes into stories and emotions. So, it's not just about hitting the right keys or strokes; it's about hitting the right feels.

Why, then, did I expect painting to be any different?

My epiphany: mastering the mechanics of painting—like the strokes, lines, and shapes— is not enough. Making great art, just like making great music, needs more than just technique. It means practicing not just with your hands, but with your heart too, letting the brush be a part of who you are inside.

The act of painting, therefore, transforms. It's my way to share my emotions, thoughts, and views. It's like having a chat with the viewer, only we're speaking in colors and strokes instead of words. Getting to this level of openness doesn't happen overnight. It takes a lot of practice, kind of like how I learned how to play the piano. It’s not just about getting the technique down, but also about playing the heartstrings.

Realizing the similarity between playing the piano and painting made me see that making art isn't just about nailing the technique. It's more about getting those feelings across through my work and creating pieces that really hit home with people. This insight has guided me to take a more rounded approach in my art practice. Now, the time I spend isn't just for copying but for creating connections—connecting with the medium, with the subject, and most importantly, with everyone who gets to see my art.

Just like with music, making art that really moves and inspires people is more of a marathon than a sprint. It's about being patient, dedicated, and really putting your heart into exploring deep emotional expression. Approaching practice with this mindset, my goal is to not just produce art, but to fill it with the essence of life itself. 

Here’s to making art that’s as alive as we are – or at least as alive as we feel before our morning coffee!

https://www.nicoletoerber.art/home


The information contained in this blog is for educational purposes only. It is not intended to be relied upon as accounting, legal, or tax advice. Laws are subject to change and the content included in this blog may not reflect all changes to date. Please see full disclaimer here.

Copyright © 2023-24 Nicole Toerber Art, LLC - All rights reserved - Disclaimer, Terms of Use & Privacy Policy

0 Comments

Follow Me On Instagram