Imagination and Vision

A properly guided imagination is the bedrock of a musician’s work. Giving your students opportunities to practice the careful management of their imaginations should be a constant feature of your teaching.

It’s easy to think of imagination as something that is turned on and off, but in truth, everyone is using their imagination all of the time. You may imagine how a conversation might go. On a trip to visit friends, you may imagine what traffic will be like. You may imagine whether or not you’ll have fun at a party or whether a meeting at work will be productive. And I would bet that you have already imagined what I might say in this book. 

Imagination is a major part of the way humans have survived as a species. The human brain is uniquely able to forecast potential outcomes based on experience or learning from others. This all happens in the imagination. 

When a student walks into your studio or classroom, they have already imagined what that lesson is going to look like. Students predict and picture different potential outcomes to their musical performances. They imagine the responses of their audiences to their music and wonder whether the audiences will be large or small. When students start to practice, they have already imagined whether they will enjoy their practice time or not.

There is a crucial point here for teachers. Most of the time, these imaginings are formed from the input the students received from people they trust or those they believe are authorities. A good teacher will get into students’ imaginations with them and help them shape their expectations and their dreams. 

Imagination and Vision in Action

Remember Mal from the Bravery section? When we left him, he was laughing at the idea of having his face eaten off by the piano-mistake tigers. Let’s rejoin him.

As Mal and I are laughing together, I tilt my head to the side and ask him, “Would you like to know what’s going to happen on recital day?”

He nods his head confidently. “Sure.” 

I start his imagination with something he already enjoys. “That morning, you’ll have breakfast. Maybe pancakes?”

He smiles and nods. “Yeah, pancakes are good.”

“Pancakes it is. After breakfast, you’ll have to wash your hands—you’ll be all sticky, you don’t want to get the piano sticky.” 

We both laugh together. I mime having sticky fingers on my keys, and he joins me. For about fifteen seconds, we play “my fingers are stuck on the keys.” Then I return to business.

“So now you’ve washed your hands. Now, you’ll have to get some handsome clothes on.” 

His eyes light up. “I’ve got a suit from my auntie’s wedding—”

“Perfect!” I say, catching him quickly before he launches off into a story about the wedding. I need his imagination focused here. “Now you’re in your suit. How good do you look?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I try not to laugh. “Really really good, Miss Allison.” 

I put this in my back pocket to tell his mom later and keep going. “Now you’ll drive with your mom and dad to the place we’re going to play. You want to know what it looks like?”

He nods. 

“This place looks really big from the outside—it’s covered with lots of bricks.”

“Like my school?” Mal says.

“Yep, just like your school,” I confirm. “It’s got tall ceilings, and a bunch of chairs. Your mom and your dad and your sisters and your brother and your grandma and your grandpa all come in and sit in some of those chairs, right where you can see them. Your whole family will be there! They’ll love this place—it’s beautiful.” Almost as an aside, I ask him a question. “Hey, Mal—have you ever played for your family before?”

More confident nods. “Oh, yeah, a bunch of times. My grandpa always asks me to play this song. Watch this.” He plays a little piece he loves.

“Obviously, that’s no problem for you! No sweat—you play for them all the time.”

He nods. 

“This probably won’t be any different then. Can you imagine it? You will look out from the stage, and you’re going to just see your family right there. It will probably feel pretty normal.”

A knowing nod now. “Oh yeah, Miss Allison. I’ve done that a bajillion times.”

“Nice!” I respond. “There’s one more thing, though, Mal.” I open my eyes wide, to indicate that this next thing might be scary. Slowly, I say as ominously as I can, “You are going to need to introduce yourself.”

He looks at me. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you are going to have to tell the people in the audience your name, how old you are, and what songs you are going to play.” 

Without missing a beat, he objects to my tone. “That’s not hard!” he says.

“It’s not?!” I ask him, acting incredulous.

“No!” Mal says. “I can do that.”

Why did I take all of this time? Why did I slowly guide Mal’s imagination through his recital day? Because he, like every music student for all time, was already imagining something. I wanted to ensure that what he was imagining was helping his practice, not harming it.

When Mal heard the word “recital” before we had this talk, his imagination immediately gave him vague pictures of possible doom. Nothing was defined or clear—and that unfamiliar misty image was scary to him. If I had not worked through that with him, that fear would have sat, then grown, and maybe even overpowered him when he played, resulting in a bad recital experience for him.

Music teachers should be constantly engaged in coaching their students in the habits of imagination that will produce happiness, confidence, and bravery. We need to help them overcome their fear and anxiety, especially when it’s only mist. All of the skills I’ve discussed in the previous sections—bravery, curiosity, confidence, empathy—depend on students knowing how to properly shape their own imaginations. 

“Is this recital going to go well or be scary and embarrassing?” 

It will be whatever they imagine it will be.

“Will I be able to play this difficult piece?” 

They can if they imagine they can.

“Can I make a career out of this instrument?” 

They can develop a vision for how that can happen, and you can help them cultivate confidence that their efforts will pay off.

What visions of the future do you think your students have within themselves? 

What are they getting from their families? 

From their peers? 

From you?

If we don’t create imaginative and visionary musicians, we could end up:

• Leaving people to the mercies of their anxieties, with no training on how to reframe.

• Creating people who don’t know how to distinguish between probable and improbable outcomes.

• Allowing people to practice a cycle of quitting based on an imagined future that hurts.

What we gain from creating imaginative and visionary musicians:

When a music student learns how direct their own imagination, they can:

• Recognize whether what they are imagining is helpful or unhelpful.

• Distinguish between likely and unlikely scenarios—“I’m definitely going to blow this performance!” versus “I’ve made mistakes before, but I’ve never totally bombed.”

• Manage their own emotions by positively reframing the vision of their future.

• Create positive self-perceptions.

• Resist the urge to quit when something gets hard by imagining a future where things work out without them quitting.