This article was posted on the BBC on April 7, but I'm calling attention to it now because I feel that the issues raised by Tamara Rojo are just as valid when it comes to musical education. Please read the article first and then read my comments below.
Rojo make it clear that her success in Ballet was due to persistence and hard work. I really appreciate that, and speaking personally I have to say that whatever little success I have had in tabla is due to persistence not natural talent. I recall that I was quite a lousy drummer when I first started. Had it been about natural talent only, I probably would have quit just like I quit learning guitar, cello, and piano before I ever touched a drum.
Often as a teacher I am asked the question by parents, "does my child have potential? Has there been much growth?" This is not an unreasonable question to ask per sé, however I am often asked it after the first month or even the first class! I usually try and explain that this is an inadequate amount of time to make any judgements on a student's potential. On the other hand, I've seen a lot of students who demonstrate natural talent early on and learn very quickly - for a few months. Eventually the student reaches the limit of their initial natural talent and now the only means for the student to make progress is hard work.
Naturally, most of my students study tabla to connect with their heritage and enjoy music. Most students don't plan on becoming professional tabla players and most parents don't envision that as being their child's future career. And that's perfectly sensible. But for the sake of perspective, how much work does it actually take to be a great tabla player? I'll share a few stories. Pandit Abhiman Kaushal once recounted to me that as a child, he wasn't allowed by his father to go play with friends until he had practiced for two hours. My guru Vishal Nagar used to wake up and practice two hours before going to school, and then practice again when he came home. Compared to the old masters, today's tabla players had a well-rounded childhood and usually got good educations. But they probably weren't also in the chess club, in honors math, studying piano, and doing taekwondo like many of my students today. Zakir Hussain was by all accounts quite skilled at cricket as a boy, but after he hurt his hand in a game his father told him no more cricket and that was that. Pandit Yogesh Samsi had a similar experience. A promising cricket player as a young man, his guru Ustad Alla Rakha finally issued an ultimatum: either cricket or tabla, but not both.
I've not yet met the student who didn't have to work hard to make progress at this instrument. I can always tell when a student practices because it's really the only doorway to success. Additionally I've always tried my best to reward effort rather than success. After all, it's the effort that leads to success, and effort that we always need more of. That's partially why I put the challenge to my students that the first one who develops the tell-tale callouses of a tabla player will be rewarded with a cash prize, and that's why I think offering such a prize is worth it. The student who develops those callouses may not be the most naturally gifted of my students, but I'll tell you one thing: by the time they've grown those callouses, they will be my best student. And if a student of mine ever sincerely desires to become a master of tabla, they will face an ultimatum: either cricket or tabla, but not both.