Centres
i
The musician has three instruments: the hands, the head and the heart. Taken together, these comprise the human instrument that the musician must learn to play in order to place themself at the service of the musical impulse. In practice, we learn to play ourselves in the context of applying ourselves to acquiring executant, conceptual, and musical skills. For example, when we tune an instrument we are tuning ourselves.
Each of these three human instruments, or distinct centres of experiencing, has its own particular discipline: the discipline of the hands, and by extension the discipline of the body as a whole; the discipline of the head; and the discipline of the heart. Taken together, these three disciplines are a harmonised discipline: a discipline of understanding. A discipline is not an end in itself: a discipline is a beginning. For a performer, discipline is what we can take onstage.
Each centre may be considered an instrument of function, and may also be considered a seat of insight into different kinds of experiencing.
Each centre, working properly, acts in its own particular field or dimension.
Each of the instruments, the hands, head, and heart, operate at different degrees of intensity, different levels of efficiency, and with different degrees of effectiveness.
Each centre experiences its own ‘version’ of the other two.
Every one of us has the tendency to be more functionally active in one, or two centres. Part of this is personality type, part is genetic endowment, part is cultural – the influences of home, society, and education. To be firing on all three centres, without training, is unlikely. Even with training, this is unlikely.
Each of the centres impacts upon one or both of the other centres, constantly. In everyday life, with disharmonic consequences. A prime aim of discipline is to co-ordinate and harmonise the functioning of the centres.
Three words describe the functioning of the hands, the head, and the heart: doing, thinking, feeling.
Doing, in the sense of acting in and upon the material world.
Thinking, in the sense of acting in and upon the world of the imagination, especially the re-presentation of prior sensory information.
Feeling, in the sense of participating in a world where we are all essentially the same person.
In musical vernacular, these three areas are often referred to as technique, ideas, feel. The player who tends to give precedence to each of these might be described as an executant, conceptualist, or artist (this last is not precisely accurate, but it gives the feel of what is involved).
Each centre experiences its own ‘version’ of the other two. That is, the technique of a qualified executant will have efficient physical action, formal economy, and graceful movement. Taken together, this is callisthenic: beauty in motion, the movement of beauty.
The physical action is effective – nothing is wasted; the form that underpins the action is natural and beautiful; and the movement ‘feels good’. So, the technique plays good, thinks good, and feels good. A developed callisthenic presents itself as effortless effort. To an onlooker, even difficult passages will appear to be easy. This is not enough, but is already quite a lot.
ii
a) The doing of the hands, and by extension to whole of the body, acts on the material world, the world of things and objects. In some traditions, this is called the World of Bodies. This is where we shape our material environment.
The discipline of the hands addresses, by extension, the operation of the body and its sensory instruments. Not only how we use our hands, but also our posture, the way we walk, and the effects of sensory information: hearing, seeing, touching, smelling, and tasting.
b) The head is the seat of the intellectual, or mental power. The brain is grey, weighs between 2-3 pounds, is mainly fuelled by glucose, and has an output of around 25 watts. The mind confers the capacity to move in time, by holding together the past and present, and preparing the future. It does this by combining sensory input with memory. Its field of operation is what in some traditions is called the World of Spirits. In the West, we might refer to this as the world of the psyche, where thought is material.
c) The heart is the seat of our feelings. The opening of the heart conveys the power of entry into the lives of others. We experience the subtle shifts in the presence of things, people, and events, knowing their essence by entering into them through our feeling. The heart provides a seat of insight into, what is called in some traditions, the World of Qualities. Alternatively, the heart may be considered a door to the spiritual world, assuming that we agree on what that might be.
e) Misuse of centres.
When one instrument seeks to act within the field that is properly the domain of another instrument, the repercussions vary from time and energy loss, to confusion, and even disaster.
Consider, for example, if we think with our feelings. For example, providing opportunities for those unable to recognise and act upon them: to hold open a door for someone unable to see the door, and perhaps even that it is open. Or supporting a person when wiser counsel would allow them to stand on their own feet, even where this includes falling over.
Thinking with our bodies is often associated with a certain part of the anatomy.
Feeling with our thinking: we are not able to enter the living and experiencing of others.
Using our heads to direct established physical activities, such as cycling and running downstairs.
f) We may be able to recognise in others, perhaps more easily than ourselves, people of different functional types: people tending towards greater physicality, cerebration, or empathy.
g) The three instruments are necessary in making judgements. Where the senses fail to render a decision – it looks ok, smells ok, but is it ok? or an argument is persuasive, or not: the feelings may judge – this feels right, or not.
Energy
i Quantity of energy.
The key injunction:
honour necessity;
honour sufficiency.
Energy is required for each of the instruments (the hands, the head, and the heart) to function. A discipline addresses right use of energy; that is, the quantity, quality, and intensity of the energy supply; and how it is used: taken together, the economy and ecology of the energy supply.
The quantity of energy:
how much is naturally available;
how much is necessarily used on specific tasks;
wasteful and expensive habits;
plugging leaks;
the acquisition or generation of more energy when and where needed.
There are specific practices and exercises to increase the quantity, quality, and intensity of energy available to us. Conventionally, many of these are introduced in the Morning Sitting. Mostly, they address the breath and breathing, taking ‘active elements’ from the air and ‘charging the batteries’. Fasting also addresses our energy economy.
These are practices to be introduced in person and undertaken in a guided context.
ii Quality of energy.
There are different kinds of functioning. There are also different qualities of energy.
Traditionally, a discipline differentiates between four qualities of working, of functioning, with which we need to become familiar; we learn to recognise when these qualities of working are present.
The four qualities of working are sometimes called the automatic, sensitive, conscious, and creative.
iii Intensity of energy.
This is governed by intention.
Intention defines the boundaries and contains the action or task that is being undertaken.
Define the space;
organise the space;
protect the space;
hold the space.
iv Subtleties.
When we begin to experience the materiality of thought, the distinction between emotions and feeling, and the constancy of organic sensation, more subtle work can begin for us. We begin to address the distinct qualities of the energy available to us.
We can’t do this through books, although books are useful when we know the way. The Aphorism here is: signposts are useful when we know where we’re going. This implies that some books are written for those who already know their direction. They may also be written as a flag to wave to anyone who might be attracted to or interested in that direction. If we are interested, but don’t know, the next step is to find someone who does:
firstly, we are ignorant;
secondly, we recognise our ignorance;
thirdly, we acknowledge our ignorance;
fourthly, we move to address our ignorance.
We find someone who has been there before.
Robert Fripp
Saturday 3rd. February, 2001
Taken from RF’s notes for the PRS John Lennon Memorial Lecture, presented in Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall, University Of York, York, UK
Revised: July 22nd. 2024
Edited by Mariana Scaravilli