Philosophy

My teaching philosophy arises from my career as a solo and collaborative performer, from my mentors, and from my five years teaching applied piano, theory, piano literature, and chamber music at Eastman School of Music and The Catholic University of America. I strive to foster within my students an ever-deeper love of music and to equip them to be a musical Robinson Crusoe, that is, self-sufficient, lifelong learner. To that end, I help them to develop a diverse skillset: listening and self-assessment skills, practice strategies, developing a wholistic technique, and making informed interpretive choices.

Firstly, I aim to create a supportive environment where students can trust my investment in their success. I start each lesson by letting the student tell me about their week and what is on their mind. Getting to know the student as an individual allows me to challenge them to reach their potential. It also allows me to tailor my analogies to their interests and hobbies. For example, for my computer science majors, I liken practicing hands separately as a type of encoding process for the brain, whereas for my students who dabble in tennis, I liken it to practicing serving, dribbling, or volleying separately before incorporating them in a match.

A sincere love for music is the most important quality in a student because it is the foundation on which everything else is built. I try to help my students deepen their love for music, guiding them to discover how it works, why it affects our emotions, and how they can bring their life experience into their creativity at the piano. I encourage them to listen to all kinds of music, from chamber music, to opera, to pop, to world music, as this sharpens their taste and exposes them to a variety of styles. I encourage them to attend concerts and to experience the joy of playing with singers, instrumentalists, and other pianists.

My overarching goal is to help my students become their own teacher, guiding them to listen critically and to self-assess. To form their ears, I ask them to listen to three contrasting performances of one piano piece and annotate a pdf score in three different colors, marking the interpretational choices of each pianist. I help them develop their aural palette in the lesson by demonstrating one passage with a variety of sounds, colors, and characters. I impress upon my students the constant dedication to making a beautiful, singing tone with the instrument. To foster cooperation between the ear and the brain, I guide my students through self-assessment at every lesson. For example, after a student plays through their piece in the lesson, we listen back to her recording together, stopping the recording when either of us has a constructive comment to make. When we zoom in on a problem spot, I often ask the student to pinpoint the problem, the nature of the problem, and a possible solution. We implement the solution and repeat this feedback loop until the problem is solved.

My love of neuroscience informs how I teach my students to practice efficiently. I give every student my Effective Practicing Handout which has about forty different ideas for how to practice to learn a piece and to prepare for a performance. I walk through these strategies with each student, making sure they know how to execute them well. For example, a student will select three problem spots she wants to work on, and I will actively practice with her in an interleaved manner, a method research shows to enhance long-term learning.

As a musician formed from the Russian school of pianism, I strive to pass on to my students the idea that musicality and artistry are inseparable from technique. Before we attempt to fix a technical hurdle, I try to hone the student’s musical intention, thereby focusing his efforts on what the overall effect of the passage should be. Many times unnecessary tension impedes an easy technique, so I remind my students to check in with their body and to release any tension. Because the quality of sound is dependent not only on the imagined sound in the inner ear but also on the physicality of playing, I demonstrate the correct touch on their arm with their permission. The correct sensation produces immediate results.

Making informed interpretational choices is also essential to forming a self-sufficient musician. I require my students to play repertoire from the Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and Contemporary periods so that they can be exposed to the many stylistic differences present between each era. For example, drawing a page from historically informed performance practice, when my students learn a Baroque suite, I teach them to dance and feel the beat hierarchy and tempo. From there, we learn that harpsichord players use both time and articulation as expressive tools, and this opens up a new world of experimenting for the student.

Cognitive research has showed we learn best by doing and experiencing; therefore, I structure my classes around activities, games, and projects that invite the student to grapple with the material itself. In a Piano Literature class on Shostakovich, I played excerpts from his piano works, symphonies, and string quartets and invited the class to compile a list of the composer’s stylistic traits based on what they heard. Their active involvement with the music gave them a more memorable learning experience.

To grow as a teacher, I aim to evolve my pedagogy and assessment strategies to better meet students at their current abilities. I commit to remaining an active performer because I believe performing and teaching mutually enhance each other. I commit to creating new opportunities for underrepresented minorities to have visibility and access to quality instruction. And I commit to being an active researcher concerning the relationship between neuroscience and music. Lastly, I strive to view every lesson as an opportunity to learn from my students. They have given me more than they realize, and I am deeply grateful for that.