熟能生巧的說法由來已久。但“熟”真的能“生巧”嗎？認(rèn)知心理學(xué)家安德斯.艾瑞森提出了異議，他指出：重要的不光是練習(xí)，而是用心地練習(xí)，有意識地找到薄弱環(huán)節(jié)并一一攻克。在他看來，這一點(diǎn)正是庸才與大師的區(qū)別所在，也是跨越從良好到卓越這一鴻溝的法寶。

How do you get to Carnegie Hall1)? Practice， practice. In a groundbreaking paper published in 1993， cognitive psychologist Anders Ericsson added a crucial tweak to that old joke. How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Deliberate practice.

It’s not a minor change. The difference between ineffective and effective practice means the difference between mediocrity2) and mastery. If you’re not practicing deliberately—whether it’s a foreign language， a musical instrument or any other new skill—you might as well not practice at all.

I was reminded of the importance of deliberate practice by a fascinating new book， Guitar Zero: The New Musician and the Science of Learning. Its author is Gary Marcus， a cognitive psychologist at New York University who studies how the brain acquires language. Marcus is also a wannabe guitarist who set out on a quest to learn to play at age 38. In Guitar Zero he takes us along for the ride， exploring the relevant research from neuroscience， cognitive science and psychology along the way. One of his main themes is the importance of doing practice right.

“Hundreds of thousands of people took music lessons when they were young and remember little or nothing，” he points out， giving lie to3) the notion that learning an instrument is easiest when you’re a kid. The important thing is not just practice but deliberate practice， “a constant sense of self-evaluation， of focusing on one’s weaknesses， rather than simply fooling around4). Studies show that practice aimed at remedying weaknesses is a better predictor of expertise than raw number of hours; playing for fun and repeating what you already know is not necessarily the same as efficiently reaching a new level. Most of the practice that most people do， most of the time， be it in the pursuit of learning the guitar or improving their golf game， yields almost no effect.”

So how does deliberate practice work? Anders Ericsson’s 1993 paper makes for5) bracing6) reading. He makes it clear that a dutiful daily commitment to practice is not enough. Long hours of practice are not enough. And noodling7) around on the piano or idly taking some swings with a golf club is definitely not enough. “Deliberate practice，” Ericsson declares sternly， “requires effort and is not inherently enjoyable.” Having given us fair warning， he reveals the secret of deliberate practice: relentlessly focusing on our weaknesses and inventing new ways to root them out. Results are carefully monitored， ideally with the help of a coach or teacher， and become grist8) for the next round of ruthless9) self-evaluation.

It sounds simple， even obvious， but it’s something most of us avoid. If we play the piano—or， like Marcus， the guitar—or we play golf or speak French， it’s because we like it. We’ve often achieved a level of competency10) that makes us feel good about ourselves. But what we don’t do is intentionally look for ways that we’re failing and hammer away11) at those flaws until they’re gone， then search for more ways we’re messing up12). But almost two decades of research shows that’s exactly what distinguishes the merely good from the great.

In an article titled It’s Not How Much; It’s How， published in the Journal of Research in Music Education in 2009， University of Texas-Austin professor Robert Duke and his colleagues videotaped advanced piano students as they practiced a difficult passage from a Shostakovich13) concerto， then ranked the participants by the quality of their ultimate performance. The researchers found no relationship between excellence of performance and how many times the students had practiced the piece or how long they spent practicing. Rather， “the most notable differences between the practice sessions of the top-ranked pianists and the remaining participants，” Duke and his coauthors wrote， “are related to their handling of errors.”

The best pianists， they determined， addressed their mistakes immediately. They identified the precise location and source of each error， then rehearsed14) that part again and again until it was corrected. Only then would the best students proceed to the rest of the piece. “It was not the case that the top-ranked pianists made fewer errors at the beginning of their practice sessions than did the other pianists，” Duke notes. “But， when errors occurred， the top-ranked pianists seemed much better able to correct them in ways that precluded their recurrence.”

Without deliberate practice， even the most talented individuals will reach a plateau and stay there. For most of us， that’s just fine. But don’t delude15) yourself that you’ll see much improvement unless you’re ready to tackle your mistakes as well as your successes.

想要在卡耐基音樂廳辦場音樂會？那只有苦練、再苦練。真的嗎？1993年，認(rèn)知心理學(xué)家安德斯·艾瑞森發(fā)表了一篇具有突破意義的論文，關(guān)鍵性地扭轉(zhuǎn)了人們這一傳統(tǒng)謬見。想要在卡耐基音樂廳辦場音樂會？那需要你用心地去練習(xí)。

這一變化意義重大。低效率的練習(xí)和高效率的練習(xí)有著天壤之別，庸才和大師的區(qū)別就在于此。倘若你不用心去練——不管是學(xué)習(xí)外語、練習(xí)樂器還是學(xué)習(xí)其他新的技能——那不如不練。

最近，一本有趣的新書提醒了我用心練習(xí)的重要性，這本書名叫《從零開始學(xué)吉他：新型音樂家和學(xué)習(xí)的科學(xué)》，作者是蓋里·馬科斯，紐約大學(xué)認(rèn)知心理學(xué)家，主要研究大腦是如何習(xí)得語言的。馬科斯也希望成為一名吉他手，他開始了一項探索，38歲時開始學(xué)習(xí)彈吉他。在《從零開始學(xué)吉他》一書中，他帶著我們徜徉在相關(guān)學(xué)科領(lǐng)域的探索中——從神經(jīng)學(xué)到認(rèn)知學(xué)再到心理學(xué)。他的一個重要主題就是正確練習(xí)的重要性。

人們通常認(rèn)為，小時候?qū)W習(xí)樂器是最容易的，但馬科斯認(rèn)為這種觀點(diǎn)是錯誤的，他指出：“千千萬萬的人小時候?qū)W習(xí)音樂，但長大后卻沒記住什么甚至忘得一干二凈。”重要的不光是練習(xí)，而是用心地練習(xí)，“一定要經(jīng)常有一種自我評估的意識，要有關(guān)注自己薄弱之處的意識，而不是胡亂練習(xí)。研究表明，以彌補(bǔ)缺點(diǎn)為目的的練習(xí)要比單純地長時間練習(xí)更能提高技能；為了取樂而演奏，或者重復(fù)自己已經(jīng)掌握的技能，并不一定會讓你有效地達(dá)到一個新的水平。大多數(shù)人在大部分時間里所做的大部分練習(xí)都幾乎毫無效果，不管是學(xué)習(xí)吉他彈奏還是提高高爾夫球的技能?！?/p>

那么，到底怎樣才算是用心地練習(xí)呢？讀一讀安德斯·艾瑞森1993年的那篇論文，就可以找到滿意的答案。他在文中明確指出，僅僅每天完成任務(wù)似的全力投入到練習(xí)中是不夠的，長時間地練習(xí)也是不夠的，毫無章法地“亂彈琴”或者隨意揮舞幾下高爾夫球棒也肯定是不夠的。艾瑞森嚴(yán)肅地指出：“用心練習(xí)需要付出努力，而且從根本上來說是無樂趣可言的?！痹诮o予我們足夠的警示后，他揭示了用心練習(xí)的秘訣：抓住自己的弱點(diǎn)，不停地練習(xí)，直至找到新的方法將弱點(diǎn)根除。嚴(yán)格監(jiān)控練習(xí)效果，最好能有一個教練或者老師幫你，然后利用這次監(jiān)控的結(jié)果制定下一輪嚴(yán)格的自我評估。

這方法聽起來簡單，甚至顯而易見，但卻是我們大多數(shù)人都避之不及的。我們彈奏鋼琴，或者像馬科斯那樣彈奏吉他，或者玩高爾夫球，或者學(xué)習(xí)法語，都是因?yàn)槲覀兿矚g。我們常常會達(dá)到某種勝任的水平，這讓我們沾沾自喜。但我們不愿做的是有意識地找出薄弱環(huán)節(jié)，然后不停地練習(xí)，直到這些缺陷徹底消失，然后再繼續(xù)尋找那些令我們無法進(jìn)步的原因。但將近二十年的研究表明，能否做到這一點(diǎn)，正是僅僅不錯與卓越非凡的區(qū)別所在。

2009年的《音樂教育研究雜志》刊登了一篇名為《關(guān)鍵不在于多少，而在于方法》的文章。在文中，得克薩斯大學(xué)奧斯汀分校的羅伯特·杜克教授和他的同事們用攝像機(jī)記錄了學(xué)鋼琴的高級別學(xué)生演奏肖斯塔科維奇協(xié)奏曲的情形——那是一段難度很大的曲子——然后根據(jù)他們最終的表現(xiàn)排定名次。研究者發(fā)現(xiàn)，演奏的優(yōu)秀程度和學(xué)生練習(xí)該曲目的次數(shù)或者花費(fèi)的時間沒有任何關(guān)系。相反，杜克和他的合作者寫道：“一流演奏者和其他演奏者在練習(xí)期間表現(xiàn)出的最顯著的差別在于他們處理錯誤的方式不同。”

他們發(fā)現(xiàn)，最優(yōu)秀的演奏者會立即處理錯誤。他們會找到每個錯誤的確切位置和根源，然后一遍又一遍地練習(xí)那部分，直到錯誤被糾正為止。之后，這些優(yōu)秀的演奏者才會繼續(xù)練習(xí)其他部分?！伴_始練習(xí)的時候，一流的演奏者所犯的錯誤并不比其他演奏者少，”杜克說，“但是，出現(xiàn)錯誤時，一流的演奏者似乎更有能力采取方法來糾正錯誤，這些方法可以防止錯誤發(fā)生?！?/p>

沒有用心的練習(xí)，哪怕最有才華的人也會達(dá)到一個平臺期，就此止步不前。對我們大多數(shù)人來說，這已足夠了。但不要自欺欺人，以為自己可以取得更大進(jìn)步，除非你已準(zhǔn)備好應(yīng)對錯誤，正如你準(zhǔn)備好取得成功一樣。

1.Carnegie Hall：卡耐基音樂廳，由慈善家安德魯·卡耐基(Andrew Carnegie)出資建造，建成于1890年。該音樂廳位于紐約市第七大道881號，是美國古典音樂與流行音樂界的標(biāo)志性建筑。

2.mediocrity [?mi?di??kr?ti] n. 平庸，平凡

3.give lie to：(相當(dāng)于to show that something is a lie)說明……是謊言

4.fool around：吊兒郎當(dāng)，閑蕩

5.make for：造成，促成，導(dǎo)致

6.bracing [?bre?s??] adj. 使人振奮的，令人喜歡的

7.noodle [?nu?d(?)l] vi. 玩弄，撥弄，擺弄

8.grist [ɡr?st] n. 有利的事

9.ruthless [?ru?θl?s] adj. 徹底的，堅決的

10.competency [?k?mp?t?ns?] n. 能力，勝任

11.hammer away：努力做，不懈地致力于

12.mess up：犯錯誤

13.Shostakovich：德米特里·德米特里耶維奇·肖斯塔科維奇(Dmitry Dmitrievitch Shostakovich， 1906～1975)，前蘇聯(lián)最重要的作曲家之一，也是當(dāng)代世界著名的作曲家之一。

14.rehearse [r??h??(r)s] vt. 排演，練習(xí)

15.delude [d??lu?d] vt. 欺騙，蒙蔽