Artistry vs. Craftsmanship: Why Technique Alone Will Never Make You a True Musician

T.L. Mazumdar Author

Aug 29, 2024 |

The critical difference between artistry and craftsmanship in music in the age of AI.

Introduction

“In music, the soul finds its highest expression, and in music, the soul communes with the Infinite.”--Swami Vivekananda

In a different time, I feel like society might have been obsessed with technique, precision, and measurable results in a context that actually made sense.

So despite an age of AI and robots who already out-perform humans in many ways on those premises, one might say it's easy to see how that cultural habit has trickled down the ages and continues to blur the lines between two very different but interlinked aspects of being a musician: artistry and craftsmanship.

Historically, musicians have always been lauded for the technical prowess their craft demands.

The flawless execution of a complicated passage, the ability to mimic sound representing some of the most primal and deepest emotions of the human condition.

Yet, as vital an aspect craftsmanship is, it is not the sole element that defines the art. Or even the musician.

On the contrary, I would argue technique without artistry is akin to a loud and empty vessel—perfectly shaped, noisy and hollow.

In this post, I’m going to share some thoughts exploring why working on your technique alone will never make you a true musician.

I’ll try to delve into what I consider the essence of music as an art form, challenging the notion that it is merely a craft.

I'll also talk about why I think music demands something a lot deeper—the kind of thing that transcends the boundaries of quantifiable measures and enters a realm closer to emotional and even ‘spiritual’ forms of expression.

The Myth of Technique as the Pinnacle

From the earliest stages of musical education, students will often be inundated with a plethora of exercises, scales, and etudes designed to build what traditional pedagogy refers to as ‘technique’.

Sure, no one can dispute the benefits of developing strong technical skills. The precision of an arpeggio, the accuracy of intonation, or the clarity of articulation are all fundamentally beneficial to performing music.

But this somewhat rigorous focus on craftsmanship while sometimes sold as ‘mandatory’, often tends to bypass the societal, cultural and geographical (and hence musical) changes occurring since the time many of these drills were written.

Case in point: practicing 10 hours of Hannon a week will not help you navigate complex harmonic changes if playing harmonically complex improvised music is high on your list of artistic goals. And it certainly won’t do much to improve your micro-timing over a Funk, African, Indian, or Neo-soul groove. Or help you write a song that bares your soul.

"We have art in order not to die of the truth." —-Friedrich Nietzsche

Personally, I’m not even sure I agree with that very poetic but controversial statement (it feels like a constrictive concept of what ‘truth’). 

But it still manages to hint at something a bit more complex than what the average music teacher cares to talk about to their students—the transformative power of art.

The kind that extends beyond mere technical, motoric mastery.

Music, as an art form, is not a generic conclusion about the accurate execution of notes some often try to box it into. 

It’s a deep and multi-layered process conveying the naked truth of human experience, with all its messiness, beauty, imperfections and contradictions.

So to focus solely on technique and making it the primary yardstick in music risks reducing this art to a series of mechanical movements, potentially devoid of emotion, meaning, or personal agency.

Technique, from this view, becomes nothing more than a physical interpretation of data processing—an extended form of cerebral gymnastics rather than an experiential journey into the depths of human emotion and spirit.

A somewhat extreme depiction of this scenario is one where students become skinsuit machines attempting to mimic robotically accurate maneuvres, rather than practitioners of an inherently non-linear art. A rather dystopian and terrifying scenario where music is reduced to a binary equation of ‘right’, ‘wrong’,’good’ and ‘bad’.

As opposed to a beautifully complex, nuanced dialogue between the performer and the listener that only experiential knowledge, experience, and wisdom truly give us understanding and appreciation for.

(Long and loaded sentiment, I know).

The Essence of Artistry

Artistry, on the other hand, is arguably a closer truth to the essence of where music resides.

It is the ineffable quality that separates the mere technician from the musician.

For one, it can’t be really be quantified, measured, or even reduced merely to a set of rules.

And while rules do apply as do all the variables that come with it, it’s when we start dancing with them on the fringe of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, that the magic starts happening.

That’s why Herbie Hancock sounds right even when he plays ‘wrong’ notes.

That’s why only B.B. King bends the way he does.

That’s why Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan always sounds divine, even if a digital tuner would denote his intonation as ‘off’.

That’s why Meshell Ndgeocello’s music always sounds ‘perfect’.

That’s why Joni Mitchell’s songwriting sorcery defies logic.

—--

Now that I’ve given away who my musical heroes are, here’s a more tangible example that might help explain what I’m getting at.

True artistry is a LOT about taste and inner values.

Choices.

Often it is more about what is not played than what is.

"Technique is important only insofar as you must use it to communicate better."-- Bill Evans.

Artistry involves using technique as a vehicle.

It is emotional depth that breathes life into a performance. Enhancing the subtler nuances that convey the meaning behind the music and the personal interpretation that makes it unique.

A reflection of our inner world.

Artistry is what allows a musician to turn music into a statement.

The Limits of Precision

Craftsmanship, for all its importance, has some major limits.

The pursuit of technical perfection has been known, paradoxically, to lead to a kind of paralysis—where the fear of making mistakes blocks creativity and expression without us even realizing it.

"Works of art make rules; rules do not make works of art." –Claude Debussy

This insight is a simple but sufficient statement on the limitations of overemphasizing technique. And how rigid adherence to rules could compromise the spontaneity and freedom essential to true musical expression. The composers whose music we try so hard to do justice to would probably be the last people to have advocated it.

The Role of Emotion and Spirituality in Music

“Music fills the infinite between two souls.”--Rabindranath Tagore

Music, at its core, is an emotional and spiritual experience. The greatest musicians in global history—from Bach, Coltrane, Miles Davis to Prince—are celebrated not just for their technical abilities, but for their ability to connect with listeners on a deep, emotional level.

Their music resonates because there’s an inner message that speaks to the human condition.

Even in instances where complex technicalities of the music are beyond the layperson’s rational comprehension, the subconscious mind is picking up on a deep process where the performer is expressing emotions and ideas that words and logic alone cannot capture.

In his book *"Emotion and Meaning in Music,"* musicologist Leonard B. Meyer explores the relationship between musical structure and emotional expression, arguing that the emotional impact of music is not just a byproduct of its formal properties, but an integral part of its meaning and significance.

This perspective challenges the notion that music is simply a craft to be ‘perfected’ through technique, suggesting instead that it is a language based on emotion and spirit.

Philosopher Susanne Langer, in her book *"Philosophy in a New Key,"* describes music as a "symbolic form," one that allows us to express emotions and ideas that are otherwise inexpressible. Langer’s insights remind us that music is not just about the notes we play, but about the meanings and emotions those notes convey.

Technique, while important, is ultimately just a means to an end—a tool that allows us to express the inexpressible.

The Age of AI: Why the Distinction Between Craftsmanship and Artistry Matters More Than Ever

At the time of me writing this, artificial intelligence (AI) has brought about an entirely new shift in how we perceive and create.

While still developmental, AI can now compose, perform, and even improvise music with a level of technical proficiency that might soon rival human musicians (check out Adam Neely’s take on this here).

And this is likely to improve to a point where aspects like speed and proficiency will not be a topic of debate anymore. That’s a competition AI will win hands down.

The distinction between craftsmanship and artistry takes on an entirely new league of significance in this context. 

AI excels at craftsmanship—it can analyze vast amounts of data, learn complex patterns, and replicate styles with astonishing speed which is already beyond human capability.

But what AI lacks is the ability to transcend the mechanics of music. Imbue it with the depth of human emotion, experience, and (heck I’ll just say it), spirit.

“Music is a divine art, to be used not as a profession but as a path to God-realization and self-realization.” –Pandit Ravi Shankar

This commonly exercised, eastern belief system and lens on music is something that simply cannot be ‘programmed’ into an algorithm.

AI will always ‘mimic’ the external form of music. It cannot ‘touch our souls’, or communicate the ineffable aspects of human existence that true artistry has conveyed from the beginning of known human history.

So where exactly does that leave the role of the human musician?

My bet would be to aim to go beyond what machines can do.

Use technique not as an end in itself, but only as a means to express the inner world.

And humbly remember that somewhere out there is an algorithm or machine that can make our ‘technical prowess’ look very, very….very meagre.

Conclusion

“Practice only gives you the skill to express, but it is the heart that gives meaning to what you express’’.-- Ustad Ali Akbar Khan

The tension between artistry and craftsmanship in music is not a new one.

But it is a conversation that bears repeating, especially in an era where technical proficiency still gets equated with musical excellence despite the blatant flaw in this premise as amply proved otherwise by AI.

The distinction between craftsmanship and artistry will only become more critical as we move further into this era.

So musicians who focus on technique as their primary artistic voice, will probably risk feeling ‘overshadowed’ by machines. But those who focus on artistry from the onset will continue to create with the kind of authenticity that will always find an audience to resonate with.

While the relevance and importance of technique is undoubtedly important (it is, after all, the foundation upon which all musical expression is built)—it never was, or will be anything even close to a complete representation of what music as a practicing art is.

Without the ability to transcend the notes, technique alone will never make anybody a complete musician.

*References:*

1. Winter, Alison. "Mesmerized: Powers of Mind in Victorian Britain." University of Chicago Press, 1998.

2. Meyer, Leonard B. *Emotion and Meaning in Music*. University of Chicago Press, 1956.

3. 2. Langer, Susanne. *Philosophy in a New Key: A Study in the Symbolism of Reason, Rite, and Art*. Harvard University Press, 1942.

4. Debussy, Claude. "Rules of Composition." In *Debussy on Music*, ed. François Lesure. Alfred A. Knopf, 1977.

5. Nietzsche, Friedrich. *The Birth of Tragedy*. Penguin Classics, 1993.

Categories: : music education, self care