This is just a neat instrument I recently got from a friend - a 1927 (or maybe '28) King double-bell euphonium (of "Seventy-Six Trombones" from The Music Man fame.)
(Oh, you say you don't get that reference? Well here's a little dose of campiness to bring you up to speed)
The second bell is activated by pressing the fourth valve. That reroutes air from the main bell to the second bell, giving a softer, less robust sound.
It looks like someone rebuilt this instrument and did a lot of dent work at some point, and they didn't do a bad job of it at all, though it was surely not a professional restoration. There's evidence that a lot of the solder joints have been redone, and hammer marks from some less-than-perfect dent removal. They managed to put it back together with everything straight, though, which is a tough job. Plus, they managed to not damage the plating! The gold wash in both bells is incredibly well-preserved except right at the rim. It's just about the finest gold wash I've seen.
The owner has had this instrument sitting around for awhile, playing it occasionally, but he hasn't done extensive maintenance on it, and has never sent it out for cleaning. It was completely black when I got it from him, so it was tough to tell the condition of the plating. Fortunately the satin silver turned out to be mostly intact, so things cleaned up very nicely.
I love these old engravings!
I did the calculations a while ago and realized that this past month I would be hitting my 10,000th hour at the repair bench. That means 10,000 hours actively spent repairing, not counting time off or lunch breaks or any such slacking off. I went with the most conservative possible estimate and came up with March 2014, around the middle of the month.
Reaching this milestone is traditionally a pretty significant event, dating back to the Middle Ages. In those days apprentices would take around 10,000 hours to master a craft, then would prove that mastery through the production of a master work or by passing a master test. Bringing that figure into the modern world, the 10,000 hour mark still seems to be a magic number. From athletes to musicians to writers and beyond, the mastery of any skill seem to require around 10,000 hours of practice.
I sort of thought that around this time I would start to feel a significant burst of confidence, or start seeing my work as a series of ones and zeroes like Neo in The Matrix. Or that suddenly I'd start retaining a lot more information and applying it immediately to my work, like that episode of Star Trek TNG where Reg Barclay becomes hyperintelligent and takes over the Enterprise's computer with his brain.
Well, that last one may not be a great example. But I was hopeful that I'd undergo a transformation and suddenly would know that I'm an expert. So far that hasn't happened. But I have noticed some shifts in my approach to my work. Lately I have been trying a lot more new things, and feeling better about my ability to complete complex repairs. I've been weighing the pros and cons of a lot of techniques I've long taken for granted, too, and changing them when I think there's a way I can do a better job. My ability to analyze my own work has definitely increased, as has my ability to take criticism and apply it toward doing a better job. I find I'm less intimidated, as well, at asking questions of other techs and appreciating the truly outstanding work that many of them do. There was a time not long ago when that would have made me self-conscious and envious. Maybe I'm just growing more patient and focused. Those are supposed to be the hallmarks of a master.
So there it is! That means I'm a master now, right? If growing up has taught me anything, it's that I put in my time and now I should achieve my goal, just like getting a diploma or completing a steak in under 30 minutes for a free t-shirt.
But if you've read this far, you probably know what I'm going to say next, which is that it's not all that simple. And you're right. But here's the twist: I think that's a good thing.
Ok, that's not much of a twist. But keep reading and I promise it will pay off.
The status of master has a sense of dignity to it, and rightly demands respect. But it implies the achievement of a pinnacle, or at least a very high plateau. My perception of a master has always been someone who has achieved what they set out to do, and now gets to reap the benefits of their hard work while not having to try quite as hard. I've really gotten stuck on that last part lately, and realized that it was a complete misconception. A true master knows that they're capable of great accomplishments, and would never stop striving for further mastery in light of their past success. In other words, they would never stop trying as hard! A master is eager to seek out the things they still don't know. The edge they gain from their mastery is they can study new information and use their experience as a sieve to sift out what is substantive and relevant, then integrate that into their ever-evolving work. That italicized section makes a lot more sense to me now than the earlier bit, and forms the root of a much stronger philosophy.
Looking further into that philosophy, it's apparent that one key to becoming a master and continuing to grow in mastery is to constantly learn from your experiences and the wisdom of those around you. In effect, a master must be able to maintain the mindset of an apprentice. The apprentice absorbs whatever information he or she can find and uses it in focused practice, to build a library of experiences that we call knowledge. Later the master draws on those experiences, and continues to build on them, as they absorb new information. The mindset and the character qualities remain the same, though. These are qualities that a person must possess before they embark on the journey to mastery. One cannot hope to become a master if they lack focus, patience, and eagerness - which they will carry throughout a successful career.
I've reached my 10,000 hours, but I don't feel like a master. Maybe it will take a few more hours. I've read that mastery requires 10,000 of focused practice, and I'll admit there may have been one or two hours in there where I zoned out. Maybe it will take a few more years. The other milestone frequently cited to achieve mastery is 10 years, especially (for some reason) to master chess. I remember a speaker at my repair school saying that it took him 10 years "to be confident I could fix anything I screwed up." If you can do that, there's nothing but time between you and any successful repair. I'm about halfway to that 10 year mark, so maybe I'll feel like a master in another five years. Maybe it will take longer. Maybe in 15 or 20 years. Maybe there will be some other event that suddenly gives me that Neo moment.
Or maybe it will never happen. Maybe I'll always feel like someone reaching for mastery. Maybe I'll look back and be pleased with how far I've come, then look forward to see that there's a lot left to learn and do.
I think I'd be OK with that.
Some the reading I did about mastery and the 10,000 phenomenon was on the Art of Manliness website. There are a few great articles about the topic at these links, some written by Robert Greene, the author of the book Mastery.
http://www.artofmanliness.com/2012/12/05/gaining-mastery-the-three-vital-steps-of-the-apprenticeship-phase/
http://www.artofmanliness.com/2013/05/16/the-first-key-to-mastery-finding-your-lifes-task/
http://www.artofmanliness.com/2010/11/07/the-secret-of-great-men-deliberate-practice/
Malcolm Gladwell's book Outliers also has a lot to say about the 10,000 hour rule. Full disclosure, though, I haven't yet read it. But maybe someone will buy it for me here?
