Can a ‘Bad Performance’ be Good for Us?

18 Mar

The Disappointment We all Recognise

Most of us have experienced a ‘bad’ performance at some point in our lives - the disappointment following a speech we gave, a recital we played, a competition we participated in, or any evaluative situation we found ourselves in. The question is whether those feelings of disappointment are always bad for us.

Practice, Performance and the Gap.

We practice for performance by planning, revising, refining and rehearsing repeatedly. Some practice sessions are better than others, and there is often a sense of ‘the best it ever was’ in practice. Then comes the performance - and there is a gap. There is always a gap.

Rarely does the quality of a performance exceed anything we achieved in practice. Far more often, the performance does not quite reach the quality of the best rehearsal. This is part of live performance: we create in the moment. The larger the gap, the more disappointing the experience can feel. What matters most, however, is what we do at that point of disappointment, because that could shape our future performances.

What Happens after the Performance Matters

What we do following a performance is critical. How we react, how we reflect, and what steps we take influence not only how we feel about that performance, but also how we approach future performances and the quality of those experiences.

After a disappointing performance, some people sink into despair, feel hopeless and try to push the experience out of their minds - only to be confronted with dread when the next performance approaches. Others allow themselves to sit with the disappointment, with awareness of their feelings (as uncomfortable as that may be), with acceptance of the situation and their emotions, and the capacity to consider their next steps.

A Moment of Reflection

A young pianist I work with had recently performed and walked away devastated by the gap he perceived between his best at practice and the quality of the playing at the recital. We debriefed immediately after the concert and met again three days later, when he was ready for a courageous conversation about what had happened.

He recognised that his internal dialogue leading up to the recital had been unhelpful. Rather than performing with courage, he played with caution. That caution affected every aspect of his music-making and contributed to the gap he experienced. With clear plans for managing his self-talk and responding to that sense of caution mid-performance, he felt more empowered in subsequent performances and avoided the dread that could otherwise have followed.