Philip Hii – guitarist

When it comes to virtuosity, the question that is often asked is, is it nurture or nature?

Like most things in life, I believe it’s half and half (to use a common Chinese expression).

While practice is important, I believe nature is a factor too. All things being equal, some people seem to be able to achieve virtuosity more readily than others.

What’s this ‘talent’ they seem to have?

I believe it is in their approach, a philosophy of practicality, not concerned about process and procedures as long as it produces the desired results.

You can see this practical attitude in all natural virtuosos — flamenco guitarists, banjo players, gypsy violinists, etc.

Many of them never went to school, never studied at a conservatory. Yet they seem to possess a natural virtuosity that many of us can only envy.

How do they do it?

First, they just do it. Through constant practicing, repeating the actions, living them, breathing them, until the actions and moves are all completely seared into their mental and muscle memory, and they’re able to do them on pure reflexes.

But there’s a second factor; it’s in their mental makeup — they all seem to share a certain irreverence towards rules and methods.

Great athletes and martial artists seem to share the same irreverence to rules and conventions.

Listen to Bjorn Borg:

“I have broken nearly every rule recommended by instruction books over the past fifty years.”

Or Bruce Lee:

“The hell with conventional methods and opinions.”

Over the years, I’ve found a few key attitudes that are helpful in developing the virtuoso mindset.

First, refuse to be bound by rules, traditions, and conventions. Be an iconoclast.*

Second, be self-reliant in your search for knowledge. Don’t try to delegate your learning to others. (Check out Tsunesaburo Makiguchi’s famous educator’s credo)

Third, be wary of self-proclaimed ‘experts,’ academics (yes, I am aware I belong in this category too), and any and all forms of formulaic thinking that will put you into a straitjacket.

Fourth, go for what works for you, not what works for others.

And fifth, focus on results, as long as you’re getting your desired results, that’s all that matters.

*Keep in mind this discussion is about developing virtuosity in a task, and has nothing to do with breaking any legal laws.

I’m aware that some of the ideas espoused in the AOV may sound strange, perhaps even radical in concept.

Such as the principle of creating the automated engine, the idea of walking your fingers, the cornerstone principle of focusing on the plucking etc.

It’s not my intention, of course, to try to be different. I’ve never believed much in gimmicks because they wear off very quickly.

No, this is just the way things are.

Because, the truth is, the virtuoso reality is quite different from normal reality

For example, in normal reality, if you want speed, you would try to move faster.

In virtuoso reality, that’s inefficient and ineffective. The better way would be to tap into the energy in the strings and use it to catapult your fingers from one note to the next.

Catapult? When was the last time you saw that word? Lord of the Rings?

Precisely. But that word describes perfectly the sensation in my fingers when I play a series of fast notes in a scale. There’s no effort involved, just the sensation of letting the fingers fly from one note to the next, the sensation of one finger propelling the next one forward, like a catapult.

Or in normal reality, when you want more power, you simply apply more force. Not in virtuoso reality, where if you want more power, you apply less force, and you reap that power by releasing more energy.

I know this may sound like a bunch of mumbo jumbo and I would understand it perfectly if that’s what it sounds like to you. But the benefits of this mumbo jumbo are very real to me, as in when I play a fast scale or a tremolo or an arpeggio.

As I said earlier, the virtuoso reality does not follow the rules of ordinary life. I encourage you to try them out in some of the ideas on this blog and in the AOV and AOVgtr.

It’s a lot more fun and rewarding, and you may be pleasantly surprised by the results.

I posted this last year under the title “Dancing with Mr. D” and decided to repost it again under a less obscure title. Another fond look back to my early guitarfaring days.

In 1980, I had just finished my studies at Victoria U in New Zealand and was anxious to go to Europe to further my studies. After talking to friends, I decided to study with John Duarte. Everyone I talked to seemed to think highly of him, including Karl.

So in January of that year, I took the plane from Wellington to London. After a stopover in NYC where I stayed a week with Karl, I took a People Express flight and crossed the Atlantic.

At Gatwick, I called him from the airport and he told me to take the cab to his home. I met him at his home. He was not a big man and was strangely nervous. He did not look you in the eye and was constantly fidgeting with his pipe. I remember he had a slight twitch in the nose.

Needless to say, I was full of excitement at being in London and at the prospect of studying with the great man himself.

A few days after I arrived, I had my first lesson. Mr. Duarte had arranged for me to stay a few doors down from him so it was just a short walk to his house.

The lesson was in his studio upstairs, I seemed to recall it was on the third floor (second in some countries) I took out my guitar ready to play. But Mr. Duarte started talking.

I sat there and let him talk. I don’t remember all the things he said but it was mostly about other guitar players. One thing I do remember was the ‘humorous’ birthday incident with Segovia. He told me that Segovia had called on his birthday to wish him happy birthday. He had just gotten out from a bath and had to stand there in his bathrobe holding the phone. I supposed the image was meant to be rip-roaringly funny so I laughed politely.

After about an hour, I gently interrupted and asked him, “Can I play something for you?”

He said yes and I played him Ponce’s La Folia. When I finished playing, he started talking again. He said a few things about the piece. At one point he took a guitar and started playing. I was astounded by what I saw and heard. He could hardly hold the guitar properly and what came out of his fingers were a few scratchy sounds.

After having studied with Karl, a superb musician and a true virtuoso, it was a bit of a rude awakening to find myself taking a lesson with a man who could barely play the instrument. But I was eager to hear his comments. Unfortunately, he went on again about other guitar players and about Segovia.

After about two and half hours, the lesson was over. It had cost me eleven pounds. To say I was disappointed was a mild understatement. I went back the next week, and the same scenario played itself over again

I decided I would look for another teacher. I had always been a fan of John Williams and decided if I couldn’t study with him, I would study with one of his students. At that time, his most prominent student was Julian Byzantine so I contacted him and was able to set up a lesson with him immediately.

When Mr. Duarte found out, he was furious. One morning, I woke up to find a letter in an envelope under the door. It was from the great man himself. Three typed pages of pure vitriol and biting sarcasm. I should’ve kept the letter. Maybe I could’ve sold it on Ebay these days. I’m sure he still has fans out there who would give a few bucks to have his autograph.

In the letter, he was extremely critical of my playing. I remember thinking, now why didn’t he tell me these things in the lessons? That’s what I wanted to hear, not all that happy guitar talk.

Needless to say, I didn’t last very long in England. I salvaged my stay there by attending a great number of concerts, and met many musicians and guitarists. While I didn’t meet JW himself (although I did get to see him after a Sky concert at Hammersmith) I got to meet Kevin Peek, Paco Pena (an incredibly gracious man) David Bedford (who picked me up from the train station on his motorbike and gave me a bunch of scores which I still have today) and I saw Alfred Brendel, Misha Dichter, among others.

So yes, I guess I didn’t handle my encounters with Mr. Duarte very well, but I had a great time in London.