First, the basic stuff – things that will get you fired in the real world if you forget them:

Show up. Sober, alert, and focused.

Have all your materials: music, instrument, practice sheet, pencil, etc.

Be prepared. Your lessons aren't random. They are part of a well planned curriculum, and we build on previous lessons. If you play a lot between lessons, but don't do your assignments, you will miss out on the whole process. Being unprepared is as bad as not showing up.

Now some less obvious ideas:

Save your practice sheets.

Record your lessons: this helps so much, I believe it should be mandatory. Soon after your lesson, review the recording and take notes. I suggest adding instructions and details to your practice sheet, using language you will understand months after the lesson.

Stay in touch and email questions.

Schedule your daily practice time. If you never have to say “sorry, I can't – I have to go practice,” there is something wrong. If you only practice “When you can get to it,” this is not going to work. Written homework is not more important than practice for your lesson.

Teach the people in your life to respect your practice time, and if you avoid doing the work, take responsibility for it.

Be realistic about social life: as a music major, the amount of work you must do is unfair compared to the number of credits you get for it. This is specially true if you have little or no formal training: in that case the first few semesters have very steep learning curves - not only in your guitar lessons, but in your theory classes as well.

Run a “Performance Class:” regular meetings with a group of students to play through your new music and the pieces you are preparing for a performance.

Connect with other students: the practice room can be a lonely place, and knowing your friends are in the same boat helps. I used used to schedule practice sessions with electric guitar master Joe Moghrabi – we would each go into our next-door studios, and come out in a couple of hours, have a little coffee (it was in Brazil...) and get back to work.

Share your works in progress: play for your colleagues, friends, and family, even if it's not quite ready - let them enjoy your progress. 

Any thoughts?

What can we learn from it?

"The fame of Andrés Segovia, the Spanish guitarist whose name has been a prominent one of late years in capitals of Europe, had preceded him. An audience including many Spaniards and many more of the musical connoisseurs of the city greeted him when he made his first appearance yesterday afternoon in Town Hall.
But the appearance of Mr. Segovia is not that of the trumpeted virtuoso. He is rather the dreamer or scholar in bearing, long hair, eyeglasses, a black frock coat and neckwear of an earlier generation. He seats himself, thoughtfully, places his left foot on its rest, strikes a soft chord, then bends over his guitar and proceeds to play like the poet and master he is of the instrument.
Granting a knowledge far greater than this reviewer possesses of the technics of the matter, it would not avail to describe Mr. Segovia’s performance in technical terms. He belongs to the very small group of musicians who by transcendent power of execution, by imagination and intuition create an art of their own that sometimes seems to transform the very nature of their medium. Segovia could be if he chose the trick player of his generation. He draws the tone colors of half a dozen instruments from the one that he plays. He has an extraordinary command of nuances, he seems to discover whole planes of sonority. Although his instrument cannot furnish a genuinely connected series of tones he produces upon it, very frequently, the illusion of sustained song. When he play a melody of Back or Haydn he phrases it, slurring certain notes, detaching the others, according to the directions of the composer. He has, of course, the vibrato and the portamento to help him in expression. He is remarkable, almost unique, for not abusing these effects. His left hand is as amazing to watch as to hear, as it flies with an incredibly light, swift, geometrical precision over the keyboard [sic], or divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration.
We have said that all this command of tone, technique and special effects possible to the instrument are only the vehicles of musical intention on the part of the performer. Mr. Segovia played many pieces from Bach, principally movements from suites, and a Haydn minuet for the classic part of his program. He played Bach like a consummate musician. The relation between the guitar and the old lute, for which Bach wrote some of his music—probably some of the music Mr. Segovia played yesterday—and the manner in which the instrument of plucked strings became the instrument of struck wires in the final form of the piano, was brought home with especial force of illustration. Nevertheless, the most remarkable of Mr. Segovia’s performances were not those of Bach, interpreted with so much taste and musicianship, but the pieces, principally by Spanish masters, composed for the guitar.
The first two of these pieces were the compositions of Sor, who is given little attention by the dictionaries, but who, as stated by the program, lived from 1778 to 1839 an wrote music excellent in style and dignified in invention. There was a haunting simplicity and sentiment in the performance, which was of a jeweled finish and gracefulness of figuration. And the eighteenth century flavor was emphasized by the idiom of the instrument.
More native in character, and of the Spanish genre, were the "Serenata" of Malats, the "Danza" and "Etude" of Tarrega. Each of these compositions made different demands; each revealed another side of the performer’s equipment. It was here that he proved beyond contraction the right of his instrument and of himself as a performer and creator upon it, to the attention and the respect of all music lovers. For with certain instruments, as with much music, the appearance of the master, with his handicraft and his vision, is required, before that which is inherent can be brought to life and become articulate for the multitude.
Saying all this, it must be added that Mr. Segovia did not and cannot succeed in removing the limitations which will always surround his instrument. he has stretched these limitations to the utmost. He has far outdistanced in his knowledge and his musical conceptions the ordinary twanger of strings. Nevertheless, the guitar remains the guitar, with limits of sonority, color, dynamics. These limitations make Bach less impressive through its medium than on the piano or harpsichord. They reach their utmost effect and their entire significance in music less sculpturesque and contrapuntal than Bach's and with warmer harmony and more elementary rhythms. Hence Mr. Segovia's audience was most enthusiastic when he played his own Spanish music in a way that revealed its essence of spirit and idiom.

This was an unusually significant appearance, and the first of concerts that Mr. Segovia will give here. His reception should have gratified him. A New York audience has seldom been quicker or warmer with its approval."

He has a short article about them at: http://musiciansway.com/blog/?p=1137

1) Ease

2) Expressiveness

3) Accuracy

4) Rhythmic vitality

5) Beautiful tone

6) Focused attention

7) Positive attitude

I like thinking of these as "improvable" rather than having a pass/fail attitude.  This means a practice session can be fulfilling and successful if you end up playing more accurately than before - even if it's not perfect.  You can make your tone more beautiful than before, even if it's not yet the best tone you'll ever have, etc.  Excellence, in this sense, is to continually, and happily, improve from where we are.  This does not mean settling for a lesser result, but rather keeping in mind that your practice is an ongoing, lifelong process.

How do we invite each one of these qualities into each practice session?

1) Study the score

2) Read it on the guitar

3) Run through it in my head

4) Drill it a little, playing from memory

5) Incorporate the new bit

Then, I move on to the next bit.

Try it!

This is not a comprehensive practice method.  It just gets new music into your head, so you can do all sorts of other practice methods more freely. 

The steps can be fluid - often, I'll alternate studying the score and reading on the guitar to make fingering decisions.  Or alternate reading on the guitar with visualizing to create a stronger, clearer mental picture.  Alternating visualization and playing from memory allows me to study my fingers in detail, and compare what I see with the "ideal" technique in my head.  At this point, I avoid drilling too much.

Make the process you own:

1) How big are the bites?  Smaller bites are good for detail, larger ones give you more context. 

2) What does studying the score mean to you? Count the rhythm? Tap it? Jot down fingerings and technical markings such as guide fingers and pivots? You can recognize chords and clarify voicings. 

3) When reading on the guitar, take your time.  Use "no tempo" - slow and relaxed, then gradually add the rhythm.  LISTEN.  Often fingerings that looked good on paper don't work, or better ideas come up.  Don't drill too much at this point, so that your auto-pilot isn't confused if you change anything. Read to give yourself a model you can imagine in the next step.

4) What does visualization mean to you?  Can you picture the left hand movements? What about the right hand movements?  Can you imagine the sensation of a guide finger sliding on the string?  Can you hear things clearly in your head?  Do you like picturing the score?  Start with one of these and gradually develop your imagining apparatus.

5) When drilling, you can focus on "doing the right thing," then on "doing the right thing well," then bringing it up to speed or adding musical details - what notes over-ring? What notes do you bring out? When do you damp basses?  You can focus on just getting the right notes with the right fingers, then make sure you use the techniques you decided to, then make sure everything is clean, work on getting a beautiful sound.  This takes rote and boredom out of repetition, keeps you focused, and allows you to conquer small steps at as time.

6) Music needs context.  Add the bit you just leaned to the parts you already worked on and LISTEN again.  If you were playing each little bit from memory, don't expect to play bigger sections without reading right away.  Don't drill too much - move on to the next little bit.  You'll review what you just learned in a few minutes, when you're incorporating another section.

If you ever think you're progressing too slowly, do the math.  If you learn one measure at a time, and cover a line a day, you'll learn more music in a year than most people do.  And you'll learn it well.

Stringed instruments to be plucked or strummed developed in the world’s earliest civilizations, and variants of those primitive lutes and lyres spread throughout Europe, Asia and Africa. The Greeks called one such instrument the kithara, a name that came to describe certain offshoots of the lute family from the time of the Renaissance. But it was not until the mid-19^th century that this instrument reached its maturity, when the guitar maker Antonio Torres perfected what we now call the classical guitar. This ancient instrument of the people finally had the power and range to fill a concert hall, and a rich solo repertoire and recital tradition soon followed.

It is no coincidence that the defining instrument builder and the leading composers and performers in this new Romantic guitar style were all from Spain. Conquered by the Romans, invaded by Germanic Visigoths, occupied for more than 700 years by Muslim forces from Northern Africa, and finally retaken by Christian Europeans after centuries of war, Spain bears the traces of each of its ruling powers. Smaller groups made significant impacts, too, especially the Sephardic Jews whose presence dates back thousands of years, and the Romani people of Central and Eastern Europe (commonly known as “Gypsies”). The mixing of these cultures produced dynamic new folk traditions, especially in the southern region of Andalucía, where the Moorish influence was strongest, and where the Arab oud (a fretless lute) launched the evolution of the guitar. That region’s style of dance and music, flamenco, provided the exotic melodies, vital rhythms and strummed textures that formed the core of the Spanish guitar repertoire.

One of the composers most closely identified with the birth of the classical guitar never actually wrote for the instrument. Isaac Albéniz (1860-1909) composed mostly for the piano, but his style drew heavily upon Andalusian folk traditions, including the guitar-rich flamenco sound. One of his most recognizable compositions, Leyenda, first appeared as the Preludio in an 1892 piano suite, Chants d' Espagne, written while Albéniz was living in London. After the composer’s death, his publishers re-titled the movement Asturias, with the subtitle Leyenda (“Legend”), and added it to an earlier collection, Suite española. (Unfortunately, Asturias is a glaring misnomer: This music has no relation to that mountainous region in the very north of the country, and instead exudes the hot-blooded energy of Andalucía.) The Spanish guitar virtuoso Andrés Segovia was not the first to transcribe Leyenda for guitar, but his performances of the work beginning in the 1920’s made it a classic. The piece begins with the haunting texture of a modal melody snaking around a repeated note, a sound that expands and intensifies with daredevil flair before ushering in Gypsy-tinged ruminations and vigorous dance patterns.

Joaquín Turina (1882-1949) belonged to the generation of Nationalist composers that followed Albéniz. He also studied and lived abroad, and strove to blend continental sophistication with the local sounds of Iberia. His 1932 work Homenaje a Tárrega — or Hommage à Tarrega, in its common French translation — is the last entry in Turina’s small but important catalog of music for solo guitar. The piece pays tribute to another founding father of the Spanish guitar tradition, Francisco Tárrega. The two movements take up traditional flamenco sounds, including the tapping of the guitar’s body in Garrotín and the shifting rhythmic emphasis in Soleares.

The city of Cádiz, one of the southernmost ports in Spain, sits on a narrow strip of land jutting into the Atlantic Ocean. The storied town inspired Isaac Albéniz to include this movement for solo piano in his Suite española, and like Leyenda it has joined the essential guitar repertoire via transcriptions by others. This musical postcard seems to sway with the lilting waves, and only hints at a more distressed state in the central section.

Regino Sainz de la Maza (1896-1981) was one of the finest guitarists of the 20^th century. He taught at the Madrid Conservatory, and premiered the blockbuster Concierto de Aranjuez by his compatriot Joaquín Rodrigo. Sainz de la Maza also enriched the guitar repertoire with his own compositions, including these two miniatures. Petenera plays with a typical flamenco cross-rhythm, alternating groupings of three beats and two beats. Zapateado is another flamenco adaptation, in this case referring to a fleet-footed dance style (“zapato” is Spanish for shoe).

Francisco Tárrega (1852-1909), a contemporary of Albéniz, was a prolific composer and a legendary guitarist. He is credited with composing and transcribing more than 200 pieces for the guitar, and his concert performances around Europe helped establish the solo guitar recital as high art. One of his quintessential showpieces was Capricho árabe; the title “caprice” matches the music’s improvisational flourishes and flights of fancy, while the “árabe” descriptor stretches beyond hybridized flamenco to the distant strains of Muslim Africa.

Tárrega composed dozens of short solo works, many simply titled Prelude and some affixed with more colorful names. Lágrima is one such prelude; the title word “teardrop” captures the bittersweet tone of the piece. Adelita is in the form of a Mazurka, a Polish style that likely had more to do with Frédéric Chopin (from whom Tárrega made some of his most exquisite guitar transcriptions) than the original folk context. The Prelude that follows is one of many untitled examples, but its music is no less evocative.

Recuerdos de la Alhambra (“Memories of the Alhambra”) is one of Tárrega’s signature compositions, merging technical command of the guitar with heartbreaking emotion. The title refers to a 14^th-century Moorish citadel, and the music hovers in a state of misty nostalgia that evokes the grandeur of the fort and its bygone rulers. The technical trick that creates the sustained melody is tremolo, in which the fingers of the right hand continually re-articulate the highest note.

One of the great mysteries of the classical guitar repertoire is the anonymous Romanza. That simple and timeless melody could have been written by any number of musicians; some of the more novel theories claim that it came from Fernando Sor, an early 19^th-century bellwether of Spain’s guitar explosion, or that it is really a Ukrainian folk song. Wherever it originated, the Romanza circulated widely in the 20^th century, especially thanks to its performance by the Spanish guitarist Narciso Yepes in the 1952 French film Forbidden Games.

Returning to Isaac Albéniz, we visit one more city originally featured in the Suite española, Sevilla. This capital of Andalucía, long a center of trade, politics and religion, comes to life in active and bustling music. The subtitle, Sevillanas, names a flamenco style, but it also refers to the female residents of Sevilla. Albéniz (or his publishers) surely intended the musical meaning, but there is something charming in the thought that this piece serenades the ladies of a region responsible for inspiring so many immortal compositions. For little else in classical music has the raw, seductive allure of the guitar, a renegade instrument that maintained its earthy roots even as it entered the concert hall.

Copyright © 2010 Aaron Grad.

This s my first cedar top guitar since the Sugiyama I used before college.  It has Ruck's all-wood take on the composite top idea, and is very responsive and easily loud, but has a familiar sound quality, and a very rich tone.  Robert set it up to my specs - I seem to handle playing loud with low action well, as long as the frets are in good shape.  Ruck's fretwork is first class, and it's a joy to play.  The elevated fingerboard is beautiful - the neck continues in one piece over the body - no seam - and I like the sound-ports. I has Madagascar rosewood back and sides and a beautiful rosete. The French-polish on the top is incredibly well done.  

I'll be posting my impressions for a while, while I prepare new music for the upcoming season, rehearse and play with others, and perform solo.