When I was a cello student in high school, my music program hosted special events where talented teachers would visit to give the students a fresh perspective on the music they were working on. I remember the cello professor said something to us that stuck with me. He said that after school, there comes a moment when you have to shift from having others be your teachers to learning how to teach yourself.
Years later, after graduating from formal music school, that insight became important to me as a performer and composer. With the training wheels gone, I had to learn how to self-correct. As a performer, I began listening much more closely to the performances of other cellists, asking what worked, what didn’t, and how things were physically executed. As a composer, I began listening to the works of the masters I admired, asking myself more intensely about what worked, what I liked, and how I might use similar concepts in my own idiom.
I can take this idea a step further by saying that teaching others has become part of teaching myself. With my first cello student, I realized I didn’t know how to hold my own bow until I had to explain it to her. Teaching her was part of teaching myself. Similarly, in composition, other creatives would ask me about my process and craft. In verbally articulating what I did, I gained insight into what worked and what could be improved.
In short, there comes a point where you have to teach yourself. The way that you teach yourself is by learning to listen better, both to what you’re doing as a musician and to the masters who inspire you. Furthermore, teaching others forces you to really learn what you think you already know.