Talent Education and the Quest for Excellence:

Almost all of my teaching is quite different from typical classroom teaching. As a professor of music and director of the string program at Andrews University (Berrien Springs, Michigan, U.S.A.), my daily teaching hours are much longer than most, and most of my teaching is one-on-one. It might be surprising to some to learn that listening to music all day is not relaxing. On the contrary, it’s actually very intense. A former music department chair once told me, “I would rather teach a class than individual lessons. Lessons are much more exhausting than teaching classes.” I can attest to this truth after many years of teaching both in the classroom and in my studio.

Yes, I do teach classes, mostly string pedagogy, and I love these courses. Like many faculty, I find myself constantly searching for new ideas, concepts, and approaches. I also coach chamber music groups, including string quartets, sextets, octets, piano trios, etc., and I thoroughly enjoy this as well. My biggest impact, however, is in the private violin lessons that I teach. This is where I build violinists.

For students to be able to consider a major in violin, they must have studied privately for seven or more years before coming to the university. Andrews University offers several music degree tracks. The most specialized track, the performance degree, requires a minimum of 20 hours of practice per week, not counting chamber music coaching or orchestra rehearsals. Including rehearsals and coaching, some of our most dedicated students may play their instrument for more than 40 hours a week. It is important to note that practice in and of itself is both mentally and physically exhausting, but more about that later.

Influences of Dorothy Delay and Shinichi Suzuki

First, let me share my educational background and how it has led me to this point. I had the privilege of studying with Dorothy DeLay at The Juilliard School in New York City.¹ You may not know her name, but you probably know the names of some of her students — Itzhak Perlman, Sarah Chang, Gil Shaham, Midori, and many more.

Consequently, when a legend like Dorothy DeLay suggests pursuing something, one must do it. She suggested that I take a Suzuki Teacher Training course and told me that if she had taken such a class when she was my age, it would have saved her years of experimenting. She told me that even at the university level, one would encounter students with strengths in some areas and weaknesses in others, and a fine teacher must know how to build each area of violin playing from the bottom up. Her suggestion surprised me since the little exposure I had had to the Suzuki method back in British Columbia, where I grew up, was not positive. As a piano teacher, my mother had some Suzuki transfer students who were difficult to teach.

The other tidbit of information I knew about Suzuki students was that they learned to play before they learned to read music. I concluded that this must mean they were imitators and not thinkers. Since I was a traditionalist at the time, this didn’t make sense to me. Skepticism aside, I enrolled in the two-year pedagogy class. Miss DeLay was so right. This experience indeed set a solid foundation for my teaching, and it also helped shape my own personal philosophy of teaching.

Japanese violinist Shinichi Suzuki (1898–1998) lived a very long, influential life and left a phenomenal legacy in the music world. The ripples of his teaching philosophy continue to be felt worldwide. For example, in the mid-20th century, his ideas were considered revolutionary. At that time, it was rare for a child to start playing the violin as young as 3 years old. Now, most great violinists start before the age of 5.

In my String Pedagogy class, I have my students read Suzuki’s book, Nurtured by Love. The first sentence in the preface is: “Talent is no accident of birth.”² Suzuki continues by saying that he will demonstrate “how to develop a person’s aptitude; and will show how a mediocre child was turned into a noble human being and an excellent musician.”³ Using examples, he shows “how to change a person with stunted ability into a talented one, a mediocre person into an exceptional one.”⁴ Learning about how our environment and work ethic can shape our lives is liberating and sobering. “What is man’s ultimate direction in life? It is to look for love, truth, virtue, and beauty.”⁵ Suzuki’s goal to turn a child into a noble human being through the long, arduous, but enjoyable process of learning to play the violin has become a part of my own approach. As an educator in the Adventist system, my philosophy of teaching and learning is rooted in the wholistic development of the individual learner and in partnership with Christ, seeks to create opportunities for them to develop the character of Christ. Here are Suzuki’s own words on what eventually became known as the “mother-tongue method”:

“Japanese children can all speak Japanese! The thought suddenly struck me with amazement. In fact, all children throughout the world speak their native tongues with the utmost fluency. . . . [This] made me realize that any child is able to display highly superior abilities if only the correct methods are used in training.”⁶

As a Juilliard student, I was certainly interested in being a noble person, but at the time, I had not necessarily equated being noble with becoming a fine violinist. As a typical Juilliard student, I wanted to become the best violinist possible. Now, as a teacher, with each passing year, I find Suzuki’s idea of teaching a student to be a noble person first and a wonderful violinist second to be more and more in true harmony.

As a devout Christian, his goals and philosophy of service were selfless. His motto was character first, ability second. As he shared from his heart, “I am no longer so presumptuous and irresponsible to ask for the kingdom of heaven. . . . I did not mean, of course, that I did not want to go to heaven. . . . I will help the church as much as I can, but I do not ask anything in return.”⁷

By now, I have read Suzuki’s book Nurtured by Love many times, and each time, I am struck by the resemblance of his statements to what Ellen White has said regarding character development:

“Success is not the result of chance or of destiny; it is the outworking of God’s own providence, the reward of faith and discretion, of virtue and persevering effort. . . . He does not supernaturally endow us with the qualifications we lack; but while we use that which we have, He will work with us to increase and strengthen every faculty.”⁸

For fun, I give my string pedagogy class a non-graded quiz in which students are asked to identify statements from Suzuki’s book Nurtured by Love, the Bible, and the writings of Ellen White. The results of this quiz are interesting. Only students who are very well versed in the Bible and Ellen White answer satisfactorily. 

The Role of Practice in Talent Development

As it turns out, years later, since the publication of Nurtured by Love (published in 1966 in Japanese; in 1968 in English), science has underscored Suzuki’s belief in the potential of all human beings and his idea of talent development. Benjamin Bloom, for example, demonstrated in his 1985 longitudinal study of 120 elite performers in various areas of practice that there were no early childhood indicators—such as IQ—that could predict their success.⁹

In the early 1990s, the psychologists Anders Ericsson, Michael Prietula, and Edward Cokely conducted a study at Berlin’s Academy of Music. Their study showed that the best violinists and pianists were the ones who were willing to practice the most. While players generally started at age 5 with two or three hours of practice a week, “by the age of twenty, the elite performers had each totaled ten thousand hours of practice. By contrast, the merely good students had totaled eight thousand hours, and the future music teachers had totaled just over four thousand hours. And what’s more, the people at the very top don’t work just harder or even much harder than everyone else. They work much, much harder.”¹⁰

The neurologist Daniel Levitin asserts: “The emerging picture from such studies is that ten thousand hours of practice is required to achieve the level of mastery associated with being a world-class expert—in anything.”¹¹ Writing for the Harvard Business Review, a decade after his experiments at the Berlin Academy of Music, Ericsson affirmed that “the amount and quality of practice were key factors in the level of expertise people achieved. Consistently and overwhelmingly, the evidence showed that experts are always made, not born.”¹² He also noted the essential role of a qualified, devoted teacher to guide the student’s practice:

“The journey to truly superior performance is neither for the faint of heart nor for the impatient. The development of genuine expertise requires struggle, sacrifice, and honest, often painful self-assessment. There are no shortcuts. It will take you at least a decade to achieve expertise, and you will need to invest that time wisely, by engaging in ‘deliberate’ practice — practice that focuses on tasks beyond your current level of competence and comfort. You will need a well-informed coach not only to guide you through deliberate practice but also to help you learn how to coach yourself.”¹³

So, deliberate practice is vital to excelling. Most would not consider it fun, and it is certainly not easy. For a violinist, it can mean tedious work, perhaps including an hour a day of scales, arpeggios, and double stops. It could mean another hour of practicing basics, such as working on different bow strokes, shifting, vibrato, etc. It includes detailed work on repertoire, perhaps focusing on a difficult shift (movement of the hand up and down the fingerboard), repeating it many times, listening intently for details, seeking discovery on what would make the shift more effortless and more efficient, repeating it with the careful intention of improving some aspect of it, then doing it again, analyzing what worked and what could have gone better, with the process repeated over and over.

And what about a difficult run (a series of notes played quickly)? It always includes slow practice; it could include doing the passage with various rhythms to make the passage more complex, then ultimately easier; it could include metronome work, taking the run from a slow tempo to pushing the limits on the speed at which the fingers move; and it also includes observation of finger patterns and analysis of what can make the run more efficient.

In addition to making the technical aspects of a work as close to flawless as possible, one must ultimately focus on musical interpretation, which, again, will include analysis of technique, but this time through a musical lens to find an appropriate color or character. For example, how will a different bow speed affect the color of the sound? What tone will result if choosing a different bow weight? In vibrato, how will changing the finger angle impact the sound? One must experiment with musical creativity as related to each phrase and passage while paying attention to the total architecture of the movement or work.

For these reasons, deliberate practice can be difficult to approach, and procrastination can be tempting. It takes a highly motivated individual to return to it several times daily, day after day. Miss DeLay recommended that her students practice only one hour at a time and then take a 10-minute break. Taking breaks accomplishes two things: It helps maintain a sustained focus and helps prevent muscle injury. It takes grit to maintain this rigorous routine hour after hour, day in and day out, no matter which discipline.

Interestingly, deliberate practice even effects changes in the brain. “When kids start practicing a musical instrument, their brains develop differently—the cerebral cortex changes.”¹⁴ Another change that occurs from years of deliberate practice is the slow process of myelin forming around nerve fibers and neurons, making them function better. “It’s significant that myelination is a slow process. . . . Research on myelin is still in its early stages, but it appears possible that at the most fundamental, molecular level, myelin may be the connection between intense practice and great performance.”¹⁵

Some time ago, a person in my Sabbath school class asked: “Why do we accept so much mediocrity?” The question resonated with me, as I have seen mediocrity more than I wish. From my corner, I work to overcome complacency that leads to mediocrity. Even when students perform brilliantly, it is still my responsibility to take them one level higher. I work to train artists and creative experts, detail by detail. I strive to encourage diligence and nurture my students by giving support, believing in their potential, and building their confidence.

Conclusion

In 1 Chronicles 15, when King David was coordinating the move of the ark of God to Jerusalem, Levites, who were skillful musicians, were appointed to lead the celebration. “Kenaniah the head Levite was in charge of the singing; that was his responsibility because he was skillful at it” (vs. 22, NIV).¹⁶ Note that Kenaniah was referred to as being skillful, not talented.

So, this is my goal: to be a dedicated and well-informed coach who can lead my students to stretch beyond what they thought they could do. I wish to be the teacher who creates a loving, supportive environment where achievements are celebrated. I wish to mentor my students’ musical growth by supporting their dreams with a structured approach to mastering their instrument, thereby giving them creative, expressive freedom. Each day I go to work to build a violinist, to build an expert, to build a musician, an artist, but more importantly, I want to be one person who contributes to the development of a compassionate, kind, honest, humble, and noble human being. This is my sacred responsibility and my way to impact my corner of the world.

This article has been peer reviewed.

Carla Trynchuk

Carla Trynchuk, MM, is a violinist who has performed as a soloist and recitalist throughout North America, Europe, and Asia. She was granted the Bachelor and Master of Music degrees from The Juilliard School, where she studied under the legendary pedagogue Dorothy DeLay. She is currently Professor of Music at Andrews University in Berrien Springs, Michigan, U.S.A., where she was the 2024 recipient of the John Nevins Andrews Medallion, the 2023 Daniel A. Augsburger Excellence in Teaching Award, and the 2015 Siegfried H. Horn Excellence in Research and Creative Scholarship Award.