Piano Performance Anxiety: How to Play Confidently, Even When Scared
I recently read a passage in a book that said, "To write is to cast off the fear of a life seen and interpreted by others." I believe a similar fear exists in playing the piano. Before I started teaching, I assumed this anxiety was exclusive to people like me—those pursuing piano as a career or music majors in school. After all, for hobbyists, a few wrong notes don't have professional consequences, right? I thought they'd be entirely free from this fear.
However, once I began teaching, I realized that whether someone is a professional or a hobbyist, they have to perform in front of me during lessons. This simple act seems to bring its own kind of dread. I see the worry in their eyes: "What if I can't play it well?" or the disappointment after a performance that didn't go as practiced. They worry about what I'll think of them. It's especially noticeable in younger students; their expressions reveal everything. Seeing that makes my heart ache a little. I want to tell them, "It's okay, you don't have to be so scared."
But then, a part of me thinks, "I still feel that way too." I've just gotten better at hiding it. Deep down, aren't we all quite similar? So, while a punchy YouTube title might be "How to Play Piano Without Fear," a more accurate title would be "How to Play Piano *Despite* the Fear." Erasing fear completely feels impossible. But learning to start, to perform as if you've conquered it? That's something we can all achieve. Here are four methods to help you do just that.
Table of Contents
1. Name Your Fear: Make the Vague Concrete 📝
All fear is amplified when it's vague. Thinking, "I just can't play this piece," or "This entire page is a disaster," is overwhelming because it presents the problem as a monolithic, unbeatable giant. But once you can identify the fear's true shape and give it a name, it shrinks dramatically. Better yet, once you have a concrete problem, you can find a concrete solution.
In most cases, even on a single "impossible" page, there's usually one specific section that's the real culprit. That's the part you must tackle first. Instead of generalizing, get specific. What exactly is "not working"? Drill down further. The piano has so many notes; it's rarely "the whole measure." Is it the transition from one specific chord to the next? Is it a fast passage for the left hand in measure 32? The more you dissect the problem, the smaller it becomes. Once you've identified that the real issue is, for instance, the jump from C# to G in the right hand, you can devise a targeted exercise for it. This process of analysis and problem-solving turns paralyzing fear into a manageable task.
This process can be difficult alone, especially for beginners. An objective, third-person perspective is invaluable. A good teacher doesn't just point out problems; they provide solutions and specific practice methods to overcome them. If you feel stuck, seeking guidance can be the fastest way to demystify your fear.
2. Practice and Listen... A Lot 🎹
In 2022, I wrote a book. Before that, I had never written anything besides a personal diary. When I was first approached, I told the publisher, "I have no confidence; I've never written anything." They suggested I write a sample manuscript first. The first day I sat down at my computer, the blinking cursor on the blank screen filled me with a profound, vague dread. But I had a deadline. So I made a rule: I would write for one hour every single day until it was due.
Some days, I had no idea what to write. I'd spend the whole hour just reading other people's books. Other days, I'd write for an hour, only to read it the next day and delete everything in disgust. But I kept showing up at the appointed time. And eventually, a book emerged. When I looked up interviews with famous authors, they all said the same thing when asked about their routine: "I just write at a scheduled time." It really is the answer.
Fear makes you overthink. Overthinking leads to inaction. This cycle, if repeated, becomes a habit. And we get good at what we repeat—even at the habit of being afraid. The only way to break the cycle is to act. The same principle applies to piano. The fear might be about not playing well, or the fear that practice won't even help. Starting your practice means confronting the reality that you're not perfect, which can be daunting. But the only way to conquer this is to simply sit down at the piano at your scheduled time. Even if you can't bring yourself to practice, just sit there. Listen to a recording of your piece. Research its history. These are all forms of practice, and doing them consistently will, without a doubt, diminish your fear.
3. Establish a Pre-Practice Ritual 🎧
Building on the last point, having a "ramp-up" to your practice can make starting much easier. When I was writing, my ritual was to first read the work of others. It would inspire me and often spark an idea I wanted to explore. For piano, I have a couple of rituals that I alternate between.
Often, I'll start by listening to music. Sometimes it's the piece I'm about to practice, other times it's another work by the same composer, or even something completely unrelated. Listening puts me in a musical headspace and ignites the desire to play. My other ritual is to play something easy and fun—a slow, beautiful piece that I know well. It gets my fingers moving and my mind focused without any pressure. Someone once told me their ritual was watching one of my videos before they practiced! The key is to start with something easy and enjoyable to bridge the gap between inaction and focused practice.
Some people avoid listening to professional recordings of their pieces because it makes them feel inadequate. I understand this completely. I felt the same way about reading beautifully written essays while I was struggling with my own manuscript. If you feel this way, try to reframe your thinking. A great writer must first be a great reader. Likewise, a great musician must be a great listener. Every beautiful performance you hear and every brilliant sentence you read is being absorbed, becoming a part of your internal library. These experiences are not a measure of your inadequacy; they are your greatest assets. Without them, you'd have even more reason to be afraid.
4. The Ultimate Mental Hack: Remember Everyone Is Afraid 🌍
This is a method for winning the mental game. If you watch interviews with world-famous pianists, they all say it: "The stage is terrifying. I get nervous, but I do it anyway." There's immense comfort in that. From the audience, they look unshakably confident, but internally, they're fighting the same battles we are. It reminds you that you're not alone in your fear.
Incredibly talented and experienced actors say the same thing about starting a new project—it feels like starting from zero, filled with fear and anxiety. They just endure it and push through. It doesn't matter how long you've played the piano; a new piece is a new piece. The first time you perform it is still the *first time*. The fear is natural. When you feel it, remind yourself: "Everyone feels this way. I am not the only one." This simple acknowledgment can be a powerful tool for self-compassion and perseverance.
I hope these thoughts are helpful to anyone who is hesitating to play, start practicing, or perform because of fear. May this article inspire you to embrace the mindset of, "I'm afraid, but I'm going to do it anyway."