If you’ve followed this blog, you’d have probably guessed that I do have a slight preoccupation with the subject of mastery.

As a guitarist, the difference between mastery and non-mastery are obvious.

If you know how to perform a technique, it’s easy, but if you don’t know how, it can be hard.

Like playing the tremolo. If you know how to go about it, it’s easy, but if you don’t, it can be very hard to do.

But I’ve never been interested in mastery purely from the standpoint of playing the guitar.

My interest in it extends beyond the guitar, to its everyday applications in our daily lives.

As I’ve written before, even the simple act of uninstalling a lock requires a certain amount of mastery and can be hard to do if you don’t possess the necessary skill and knowledge.

And that to me is the essence of virtuosity.

Not showy technical displays or cheap tricks, but knowledge – knowledge at a deep and personal level.

When I first decided to use the word ‘virtuosity’ to describe the AOV, I knew it would probably conjure up associations with cheap showmanship and flashy technical displays in some people.

And they may be right.

I must admit that that was part of the original intention — to write a book on how to attain a flashy guitar technique.

But that was just a small part of it.

My main intention was to distill virtuosity down to its essence, to a few simple principles, and enable anyone applying those principles to achieve virtuosity in whatever they do.

In other words — to define the essence of virtuosity, not as a performance sport, but as principles we can all live by.

Try this simple exercise.

Take your guitar and using your i finger, pull the third string gently. Don’t pluck it, just pull it gently, as if you’re going to pluck it.

You’ll feel a slight resistance in the string, it seems to be pushing back.

But a string is a dead inanimate object. Where does this energy come from?

From you, of course, you’re creating that pushback in the string from your pulling.

The point is, there’s latent energy in everything. We’re surrounded by hidden energy, even in objects that supposedly possess no energy of their own.

You can say this energy is dependent on external forces. In this case, the string is dead until you pull it, so that energy is derived from you.

Precisely, but that energy, even if its original impetus is from you, is very real.

The true art of virtuosity is in knowing how to recapture this latent force and use it to drive you forward in your task.

That’s the basis of my last post, on creating the automated engine in your fingers, in this case, recapturing the spent energy in one stroke to propel you to the next.

This contrasts with the conventional approach of just focusing on finger strength or body strength to accomplish what you want to do.

For instance, if you want speed, just try to make the fingers move faster, or if you want power, just apply more force.

For me that approach is a dead end because our energy is very limited. If we have to rely on our pure energy (you might call this brute force) to accomplish what we want to do, we’d be severely hamstrung.

To recapitulate, the real skill of a virtuoso is in knowing how to harness the energy around us to do our work for us.

This means we have to be extremely sensitive and responsive. For instance, when we pluck, we must be extremely sensitive to the string and to its built-in reactions to our actions.

And we have to respond to it, and not just treat it like some dead inanimate object that has absolutely no contribution to make to our plucking.

To me, this is the true source of effortless power and speed, when you can harness the power and energy in nature to do your work for you.

Of course, you have to put in the original effort and you have to know how to recapture that energy, but once you have that automated engine going, you’re on a roll. It’s easy street from then on.

I’ve written about the automated engine a number of times before so I thought I’ll elaborate on it, for the benefit of those who don’t have my AOV for Guitar.

The concept is central to the AOV and it’s the key to effortless speed.

What’s this automated engine?

Imagine your fingers and thumb working together as a unit.

Each finger has the ability to propel the next one forward as if there’s an internal engine in them.

When one finger plays, it pushes the next one forward, when the next one plays, it pushes the next one forward again, and on and on, in a continuous ripple effect.

The effect is almost like dominoes falling, each piece knocking the next one down, or like winding up a toy and just letting it go.

The process is completely automated, you have no sensation of having to exert effort. You just play and the notes play themselves, almost miraculously.

There’re two basic underlying principles behind this technique

First, the technique of grouping.

When you play a bunch of notes, group them into larger groups and play these groups of notes in one motion.

At all cost, don’t try to play each note separately, you’ll never be fast that way. Play the notes in group,  in one motion per group.

The logic behind this technique is simple.

If you have a row of bottles to knock down, will you knock them down one by one individually, or will you knock them down with one sweep of the hand?

Or if you have to shop for groceries, will you go to the supermarket every time you have to buy an item, or will you wait till you have a few items to buy and you buy them all in one trip?

The answers are obvious.

In the same way, if you have a series of p i m a m i arpeggios, don’t try to play each note separately, group them into groups and play each group as a unit.

That’s easy to do for regular arpeggios but what about scales, where there’re no clear patterns?

You group them into groups too, but in this case, you’ll have to group them according to the phrasing. And when you play the scale, play it in groups of notes rather than each note individually.

But what happens when you have irregular arpeggio patterns? Like in Etude # 1 by Villa Lobos?

In this case, apply the second principle, make each note propel the next one forward. By doing this, you’ll create the same effect as grouping, tying each note to the next, creating a chain of notes again.

When you play one note, use the energy released in that note to propel you to the next note, and then do it for the next note and the next after that, continuously, in an endless repeating cycle.

When you do this, you’ll feel as if the fingers are all working together, each one pushing the next forward.

Let’s try it with Etude # 1.

Play the first note (low E) with p, feel the release in the playing. (Check out my previous post on releasing energy with the stroke.)

Use the energy in the release of that note to drive your i finger forward to play the next note (middle E on D string).

As soon as your i finger plays the E, use the energy released in that note to push your p forward to play the low B.

As soon as the p plays the B, use the energy released to push your i finger to play the g string.

And on and on, in a continual cycle, each note pushing the next finger forward to the next note

This is the key to the automated engine. You harness the energy in each note to propel you to the next. That’s why there’s no sensation of effort because it all happens right at your fingertips, without any conscious input from you.

To make this happen, three things are essential.

1. Your fingers must be super light, loose and relaxed.
2. The plucking of each note must be the release of that note,
3. You must focus all your movements at the fingertips, in other words, there must be extreme economy in your fingers.

These are of course the necessary conditions described in the AOV and AOV for Guitar as a precondition to achieving virtuosity.

To continue on the subject of shifting your focus from action to pre-action.

There’s a second and perhaps even more critical angle to this technique.

And that is to shift the beginning of the stroke to the end of the previous stroke.

Yes, it sounds like a mouthful, but there’s no other way to make it more succinct

Basically, the principle comes down to; when is the beginning of your stroke?

Some people will say ‘the beginning,” and that will make perfect sense in ordinary reality.

But in virtuoso reality, if you want to develop a free and effortless stroke, the beginning of the stroke must be the end of the previous stroke,

In other words, your plucking motion is the end of one stroke but it is also the beginning of your next stroke.

Try this short exercise:

Play the third string with your i finger, very lightly and gently. Don’t worry about tone or anything else. Just stay as relaxed as possible.

Now, focus on the plucking motion.

The instant you pluck, release all the tension in your finger and in that same instant, move it back to reposition it for the next stroke.

This is critical.

The two must happen simultaneously. The instant of plucking must be the beginning of the movement back to reposition the finger. In other words, the two happen in one motion.

Don’t pluck and then move to reposition, that’s two separate movements.

Pluck, and make that plucking motion the movement back to reposition, in  one motion.

It’s a very small subtle difference, but the difference it will make to your speed and relaxation will be dramatic.

That’s because the main focus of your strokes is on relaxation.

Each stroke becomes a movement into relaxation. The actual act of plucking, of playing becomes an act of relaxation.

It brings us back to the walking analogy. Take some time to observe how you walk and how other people walk.

Notice that most of the effort is in getting the foot to the ground and once the foot is on the ground, the actual step itself is a release of that effort, the actual step itself is an act of relaxing the foot and ankle.

That’s the same sensation you get when you shift the beginning of the stroke to the end of the previous stroke, the actual plucking is an act of relaxing the fingers.

I’ve written about how virtuoso reality differs from ordinary reality.

For instance, if you want more speed in virtuosity, don’t try to move faster, instead, generate it by creating a self-propelled engine in your body (or fingers as in the case of playing guitar) and using the momentum in that engine to create effortless speed for you.

Or if you want more power, don’t try to apply more force, instead create more potential energy (by pulling at the string more) and then harnessing the power in your fingers.

Those are the core elements of virtuosity but there’s one more component of the virtuoso reality (which I have alluded to before in my article on walking the fingers) and it has to do with shifting the focus from the action to the pre-action.

Let me explain:

Every action involves two phases, the pre-action (getting to the point of action to execute the action) and the action itself (the actual execution).

For instance when you walk, you’ll have to place your foot on the ground (the point of action) before you can take that step (the actual action).

Or when you play guitar, you have to get the finger to the string first (the point of action) before you can pluck it (the action).

A side note: I’m referring here not to the technique of ‘preparation,’ which is a conscious act of placing the finger on the string before you pluck it, but to the simple act of bringing the finger to the string to pluck it.

In virtuoso reality, the point is to shift the focus from the action to the pre-action and to let the action occur as an afterthought, as a logical conclusion to the pre-action.

To go back to the analogy of stepping again, when we walk, most of our effort is focused on bringing the foot to the ground, the actual stepping occurs naturally as a release of that effort.

The same principle works on the guitar too. When you pluck, you should focus most of your attention on getting your finger to the string and let the actual plucking occur naturally, as a conclusion of that action.

To do this well, you’ll have to have all the basic physical conditions described in the AOV in place, a super loose body, a light touch, and smooth and fluid motions.

And even then, it’ll still require you to be fully warmed up.

Even though I’m familiar with the technique, if I’ve been away from the guitar for any length of time (like a few weeks), it still takes me a while before I can feel the technique working in my fingers again. It’s something I can’t force, I’d just have to practice and wait for it to come and when it does, I know I’m fully warmed up.

Let’s try this exercise.

Play a simple i m a m arpeggio on the first three strings, i finger on the third string, m on the second, and a on the first string.

Relax the fingers thoroughly. Don’t force them.

As you play, gradually shift your focus away from the plucking and focus your efforts on getting the fingers to the string. (Again, this is not an exercise in ‘preparation,’ so don’t try to prepare the fingers on the string before you pluck it.)

In other words, focus all your attention on finding the string with your fingers.

And let the plucking occur naturally almost as an afterthought.

Practice the technique until it feels perfectly natural.

To this right requires you to be incredibly relaxed so it’s critical you stay relaxed.

At all cost, don’t try too hard to make it happen, just keep on practicing and let the technique happen naturally.

The great thing about shifting the focus from the action to the pre-action is that it not only results in greater relaxation in your strokes (because of the built-in release mechanism at the point of execution) it also dramatically increases your speed and accuracy.

This is simple to understand. First speed.

If you focus your attention on the pre-action, you’ll create a more dynamic and forward-driven technique in your fingers. Contrast this to the more conventional approach of focusing on the action (the actual stroke) which will produce a more static technique.

It’s as if you have to run from base to base. As soon as you arrive at one base, you’re already off running to the next base. You never stay still on any one base, because you’re always focused on the next base.

This is what happens when you focus on the pre-action in plucking. You’ll be constantly moving forward to the next stroke. As soon as you arrive at a string with one finger, you’ll be moving to the next stroke and to getting the next finger onto the next string. This results in great forward drive and momentum in your fingers.

And accuracy.

If you focus your attention on getting the fingers to the strings, you’ll also be, by extension, focusing your attention on finding those strings with your fingers.

And if you focus your attention on finding something, you’ll find it a whole lot more accurately than if your attention is elsewhere.

While we’re still on the subject of rhythm, (yes, I know I do have an obsessive streak in me) let’s do some practicing with a metronome.

But first, a note about playing with a metronome.

When you play with a metronome, always let it lead you. Become totally subservient to it. Focus your attention on it and follow it. This is a critical part of metronome technique.

To do this, play softer. This will help you hear the metronome better and take your focus away from your playing and onto the metronome.

Let’s try a simple piece with a constant stream of sixteenth notes, perhaps a Carcassi study from his opus 60. Numbers 2 or 7 will work well and both happen to be my favorites.

First, set the metronome on the quarter notes, perhaps one quarter to 52. (This is just a suggestion. You can try a faster tempo if it helps you keep time better.)

Start by listening to the beat. Feel that pulse within you. As you listen to it, start to anticipate the beat. Feel each beat coming up and tap your foot with it. What you want to do first is develop your ability to predict when the next beat is going to arrive by anticipating it.

As you get used to the groove, start to play the piece.

Now, this is very important, make sure you land the notes absolutely right on the beat. As jazzers will say, play right on top of the beat.

Your playing and the beat should occur together, simultaneously, and sound like one. That’s how tight you want your playing to be. And play the subdivisions, the sixteenth notes, as precisely as possible between the beats.

Again, focus all your attention on the metronomic beat, and make your notes line up precisely with the beats. Don’t worry about mistakes, worry more about getting your notes right on the beat.

Your playing should sound very strict and mechanical. This is, of course, just for practice purposes. In real life, your rhythm should be much more flexible and contain many subtle inflections.

But for now, the focus is on precision.

When you feel confident about your ability to place your notes right on the beat, bring the exercise up a notch.

Put the metronome on the eighth notes. If you’re playing at 52, just double it to 104. You haven’t increased the tempo, you’re still playing at quarter notes to 52, except now you have the metronomic beat on every eight note.

Now, play the piece again, playing each eighth note right on top of the beat. And make the subdivisions as precise as possible too.

Practice this way for a while, mechanically, focusing on precision, playing right on top of the beat.

Now we’re ready to go to the next level again. Set the metronome on the fastest setting 208 and play the sixteenth notes on every beat.

Again, the tempo hasn’t changed, what’s changed is that now you have the metronomic beat on every sixteenth note. The basic tempo is still quarter note to 52.

Play the piece again, focusing on precision, on playing the sixteenth notes right on each beat.

The whole point of these exercises is to train your technical and rhythmic control and to develop your ability to follow an external rhythmic beat. (The concept of separating your rhythm from your playing is central to the AOV and crucial to rhythmic mastery.)

If you can play the above three exercises and make your playing follow the metronomic beat precisely, you’ve achieved both technical and rhythmic mastery.

That’s because you need both skills to be able to do what you just did.

You need great rhythmic skill to be able to sense when the beats are going to occur, and you need great technical skill to be able to execute your notes precisely right on those beats when they do occur.

The above progression of going from quarter notes to sixteenth notes is just a suggestion. You can reverse the order and start from sixteenth notes and work your way to the quarter notes instead.

Either way, you should have incredible control over your subdivisions by the time you’re done.

Over the years, I’ve spent no small amount of time contemplating rhythm and its many implications on our existence.

I see it on many levels, as a universal force operating at the super micro level—the so-called strings (as in string-theory. Although I harbor some lingering skepticism about this, I’ll defer to the experts here.) to mega waves out in deep space where their oscillations are measured in light-years.

And of course, to the more mundane task of playing classical guitar.

To go back to my previous post.

Playing to me is like navigating a craft down a river, you need both the craft and the skill to navigate your way through that river of time.

Yet why is rhythm so hard to learn and master?

The problem lies with the fact that it exists in its own dimension—time—and it’s very hard to explain time and its passage.

Most attempts with trying to describe or depict time is to use two-dimensional imagery such as a timeline or musical notation.

But time does not exist in two-dimensional space; it’s experienced, one moment at a time. And it’s fleeting. The instant we experience a moment in time, it’s already gone—history.

The same is true of rhythm.

On the musical score, rhythm is notated with symbols indicating relative durations in two-dimensional space.

But in reality, we perceive it by experiencing it one beat at a time.

And—this is the important part—we experience it in anticipations.

Let’s take a simple example.

Let’s say that you’re playing a simple song with one note on every beat.

If you start playing the song at 60 on the metronome, you’re setting up expectations in yourself and in your audience that you’re going to hear one note per second.

To play with good time means you must be able to fulfill those expectations.

In other words, you can’t suddenly change the tempo to two beats per second.

And if you want to create rubatos or ritardandos or accelerandos, you must do them within those expectations too, and make sure they’re done in a smooth and logical manner within that tempo. Otherwise, it’ll sound as if you’ve lost control over your rhythm.

To execute your notes rhythmically, you must anticipate each beat.

To do this, wait for the beat to arrive and when it does, play the note lightly on the beat.

Then let the cycle start again. Wait for the next beat to arrive, play the next note lightly on the beat again, and then let the cycle repeat itself again.

That’s what happens when we play.

We anticipate each beat and when it arrives, we execute our action on that beat.

Having good rhythm in this case simply means having the ability to anticipate correctly when the next beat will arrive, and possessing the technical means to execute on that beat when it does.

And that’s what I mean by being able to navigate down that river, you need both the craft (physical ability) and the skill to navigate that river (rhythmic control).

There’re two important things to note here.

First, the element of waiting—you must never rush or hurry toward the next beat. Wait for it to come and when it comes, place your action lightly on that beat.

Second, your rhythm must be a thing separate from your actual physical execution. You must feel the rhythmic pulse as an entirely SEPARATE PHENOMENON FROM YOUR PLAYING. This is such an important point I have to put it in caps. I’ve also written about this elsewhere on separating the source of your rhythm from your execution.

The above just applies to the minimal requirements of rhythm, playing in time.

We know of course that good rhythm is more than just playing on the beat. It’s a highly expressive device in itself and in the hands of a master, it can create pure magic in itself.

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.