Why?
First, it helps to understand that composing is a skill, like playing piano, shooting a basketball, or public speaking. As a general rule, the more time spent developing a skill, the greater one's level of achievement.
Also, skill development proceeds more efficiently if done on a regular basis. This is why music teachers usually advocate practicing daily to their students, even if the period of practice is short, rather than cramming all of your practice-time into one extended period per week. Studies, such as this one, have confirmed this.
The one caveat to these general rules is that mastery of a skill is not just a matter of accumulating, say, 10,000 hours of practice (see 10,000 Hours May Not Make a Master After All, for example); the time spent developing skills must be done intelligently.
For example, if you practice a Beethoven sonata every day for two hours, but never pay attention to fingerings, dynamics, phrasing, structure, or even wrong notes, you will likely not progress very quickly, if at all.
If, on the other hand, you practice the sonata for twenty-five minutes a day, work out good fingerings, work on difficult passages slowly until they can be played cleanly, stop when you make a mistake to figure out what caused it and what will correct it, and experiment with different phrasings and articulations until you find ones that make good musical sense, then you will will assuredly learn to perform the sonata more quickly, and much better.
Applying these principles to composition, this suggests that your development as a composer will proceed more efficiently if you can compose on a regular basis, even if for a relatively short period of time (such as 25-30 minutes a day), if done intelligently. And if you can fit in two composing sessions a day, that would be better still!
For what it's worth, my experience has been that daily or near-daily composing does not necessarily make the process flow smoothly, but it flows considerably more smoothly than otherwise. I think this is because the music keeps "simmering" away in my mind on an ongoing basis (including when I fall asleep and wake up), and not just when I am sitting at my computer actively trying to compose.
Regular and ongoing engagement with your work-in-progress makes it easier to resume composing next time you are in your workspace. On the other hand, when I go through periods in which I don't compose for days or even weeks at a time and then try to return to it, I often struggle, feeling like I have no idea what I am doing (more so than usual, which is a lot!), making for a slow and angst-ridden process.
Are you convinced yet? If so, the next challenge is finding time to do this!
For example, if you practice a Beethoven sonata every day for two hours, but never pay attention to fingerings, dynamics, phrasing, structure, or even wrong notes, you will likely not progress very quickly, if at all.
If, on the other hand, you practice the sonata for twenty-five minutes a day, work out good fingerings, work on difficult passages slowly until they can be played cleanly, stop when you make a mistake to figure out what caused it and what will correct it, and experiment with different phrasings and articulations until you find ones that make good musical sense, then you will will assuredly learn to perform the sonata more quickly, and much better.
Applying these principles to composition, this suggests that your development as a composer will proceed more efficiently if you can compose on a regular basis, even if for a relatively short period of time (such as 25-30 minutes a day), if done intelligently. And if you can fit in two composing sessions a day, that would be better still!
For what it's worth, my experience has been that daily or near-daily composing does not necessarily make the process flow smoothly, but it flows considerably more smoothly than otherwise. I think this is because the music keeps "simmering" away in my mind on an ongoing basis (including when I fall asleep and wake up), and not just when I am sitting at my computer actively trying to compose.
Regular and ongoing engagement with your work-in-progress makes it easier to resume composing next time you are in your workspace. On the other hand, when I go through periods in which I don't compose for days or even weeks at a time and then try to return to it, I often struggle, feeling like I have no idea what I am doing (more so than usual, which is a lot!), making for a slow and angst-ridden process.
Are you convinced yet? If so, the next challenge is finding time to do this!
How?
Five suggestions; other suggestions welcome in the "comments" area below!
- Q: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Only one, but the bulb has to really WANT to change.
Just like the old lightbulb joke, you must start by genuinely wanting to find more time to compose. It has to be a high priority. I'd like to become a better guitarist and pianist, but until I am convinced that these goals are really important, I am not likely to spend much time pursuing them.
- Make a schedule that includes regular times for composing and try to follow it. If you find it difficult to follow, modify your schedule, and continue adjusting it until you come up with a schedule that works most of the time. Remember that all you need is about 25 minutes of composition a day to experience the benefits described above, at least until more time is required in order to meet a deadline.
- Try to compose at roughly the same time every day. Our bodies work in natural rhythms ("circadian rhythm") that can affect us to varying degrees and in various ways during the course of daily life. If you can train your body to be in "composition mode" at a particular time every day, you will probably find that your creative impulses will be primed and ready to go at that time. And if mornings (for example) aren't working for you, try setting aside a different time of day for your daily composing.
Composing at the same time every day is something that a great many composers seem to have had in common. Maynard Solomon's 1998 biography of Beethoven states, rather enigmatically, that the composer's "daily routine reflected his adherence to an exemplary standard of behavior” (Solomon 51), which perhaps supports Anton Schindler's description of Beethoven's daily routine in his largely-discredited Life of Beethoven (1840):"Beethoven rose at daybreak, no matter what season, and went at once to his work-table. There he worked until two or three o' clock, when he took his midday meal. In the interim he usually ran out into the open two or three times, where he also 'worked while walking.' Such excursions seldom exceeded a full hour's time."
Erik Satie, in his A Day in the Life of a Musician, claimed, probably with tongue in cheek (but possibly not), that he was "inspired" daily from 10: 23 to 11: 47 AM, and again from 3:12 to 4:07 PM. He would also walk 10 kilometres from his apartment on the outskirts of Paris to Monmartre every day.
Morton Feldman described his routine as follows: "I get up at six in the morning. I compose until eleven, then my day is over. I go out, I walk, tirelessly, for hours." It was a revelation for me to discover how common it was for great composers to compose at a specific time every day.
A fixed routine seems to be true of other creative people as well, such as writers. This article in The Guardian tells us that Charles Dickens wrote from 9 AM to 2 PM every day, "after which he would walk incessantly, and put his mind in neutral." Others find their best time of day to write is in the evening or late at night.
Esther Freud, a novelist whose work I should probably know but don't (although most people are familiar with her famous great-grandfather), has offered this advice about writing (from The Guardian):
Find your best time of the day for writing and write. Don't let anything else interfere. Afterwards it won't matter to you that the kitchen is a mess.
Mason Currey, author of Daily Rituals: How Artists Work, writes
There are certain behaviors that cropped up over and over again in my research. A large number of novelists and poets, for instance, wake up early in the morning and try to get some words on the page before other obligations kick in. Composers, I've found, almost invariably take a long daily walk. (www.slate.com)
This habit of taking a long walks is, by the way, one I recommend highly! - Another great suggestion from Esther Freud (also from The Guardian article cited above), but one that has been expressed by many creative people, is this:
Don't wait for inspiration. Discipline is the key.
If you make it a habit to compose at a regular time every day (say, from 8AM to 11AM ), you will likely find that your brain provides you with all the inspiration you need during that time. Inspiration can occur at other times, of course, but if you sit around waiting for it, you may find yourself waiting for something that never arrives.
As Charlotte’s Web author EB White told the Paris Review in 1969, A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper. - For those times when inspiration strikes while you are away from your piano, computer, or other composing aid, always carry manuscript paper or a manuscript sketch book, and a pencil around with you, and jot down ideas when you get them. Beethoven apparently always carried pencils and sketchbooks around, and it seemed to work pretty well for him! You can also record your ideas on your "smart" (sic) phone or tablet (e.g., iPad, Samsung Galaxy, etc.), using GarageBand (Apple), Symphony Pro (Xenon Labs), or other app.
If, on the other hand, you consistently ignore the inspired thoughts that jump into your head at various times of day, you are in effect training your brain not to be inspired, which is obviously not a good habit to develop. Now, before you get too hard on yourself, know that everyone ignores their inspirational impulses at least some of the time; there are times when it may be impractical to stop what you are doing and record your inspired idea. But just jotting down one inspired idea per day is enough to keep those thoughts coming.
Among the difficulties of composing, writing, or any time-consuming solitary pursuit, are that it takes time, it can be frustrating to the point of psychological pain (something I know well), and it takes tremendous discipline. The positives, for me, are finishing a piece knowing that it is as good as it can be at that point, hearing it performed well, and receiving favourable or constructive feedback from performers and listeners. But I don't do it because of the positives; I think I do it because I need to.
Finding the time to compose on a regular basis does not make composing easy (although some days it can be), but it does make it easier than composing sporadically.
Please let me know your thoughts on this, if you feel so inclined!