I have two thoughts for you.
One: training your mind to focus is something that can be learned. It's hard, but it can be done. The ability to "be in the moment" and keep your thoughts centered on what's happening right now (and not what happened yesterday or what will happen tomorrow) can be really valuable! It will help lower your stress level and improve your playing. Folks who learn to meditate are working toward the same goal -- learning to focus the mind and thoughts.
I think we can all agree with that, but the question becomes, how. How does one train the mind to be focussed? Focussed on what? Focussing on not making mistakes, for instance, is precarious, because you're focussing on a negative. I think that every mistake should be mined for the most information as possible: what is the mistake - a wrong note? rushing? memory lapse? uncontrolled sound? general messiness? - what could be the cause - misreading? not studying a passage enough? a physical problem? bad voicing? too much pedal? - and what is the solution - studying a passage from different angles (harmonically, structurally, melodically, in individual parts, perhaps transposed),. practicing without pedal, practicing with metronome, experimenting with voicing, analysing the physical condition.
Any mistake is an opportunity to expand our knowledge, as long as we are strict with ourselves, and objective about our mistakes.
I have reservations about your last comment about meditation. As I understand it, meditation is about achieving a passive state of mind, where the thoughts come and go, but have no effect on the general balance of being. I propose an
active state of mind when dealing with problems like sloppiness, and using all the powers of reason and intellect to solve those problems.
Two: perfection is a myth. We are imperfect people in an imperfect world. I know the goal of playing is perfection, and we're all reaching toward the ideal -- but it's important not to let perfectionism mar your practicing and your performing. Especially in performing -- the ability to let go of mistakes and not be shaken by them (again, part of focusing on "the now") is really helpful.
Even while playing memorized pieces, I'm often seeing parts of the written music in my mind's eye. This helps me to focus. You can also pick a particular part of the technique to focus on -- for instance, the phrasing, or perhaps note endings or beginnings. As you progress past the point where you've memorized the "biggies" (notes, tempo, dynamics, phrasing) you can drill down to details and shape each note and phrase the way you'd like it.
Best,
Kim
All of our senses have such a wonderful memory. My first CD was Bach violin concertos, with the Double played by Perlman and Stern. I listened to that CD probably a 1000 times, because I didn't have the money to buy another one. The liner jackets had a certain smell, and the cover had a certain look, it was one of those "Great recordings" series on some label. Every time I hear the double concerto, I can smell the liner notes. When I see other discs with a similar format for the cover, I can also hear the double concerto.
By the way, when people talk about synesthesia, they usually mean hearing music and seeing colors. But actually the dictionary defines the word, "a sensation produced in one modality when a stimulus is applied to another modality." Modality referring to the senses. So synesthesia is the integration of any or all of the senses, not such sight and sound. I think the synesthesiatic state is one we can also aspire to, because it will guarantee the most durable and reliable memory, using all of the memories combined: visual, aural, smell, touch, intellectual.
You can study scores away from the piano in this way: seeing the notes on the page, for instance; haering it in your mind's ear away from actual sound; smelling the inside pages, whether they are moldy, musty or inky; touching the binding, writing in the score, making it your own; and analysing the harmony and structure of the piece.
This kind of multi-sensual study will guarantee you a level of familiarity that can't be achived by sitting at the piano and struggling for hour after hour. It's about taking a piece of music, which always starts out as a labyrinth to us, and making it into the most well-worn corner of your house, the one you will always turn to in times of need.
Walter Ramsey