When Music Becomes Its Own Reward | Why real motivation in music education doesn't come from gamification
Updated: Sep 2
In an interview, when asked what he did to recharge his creative energy, pianist Evgeny Kissin answered with complete earnestness: "I have never felt like I need to recharge my creative energies. Physical energy, yes — but the creative energy is always there. It comes from the music itself."
Here's the interview, in case you'd like to watch it:
The Essence of Music: A Source of Inspiration
I haven't been able to shake that idea since I first watched the interview a few weeks ago. Many musicians do find inspiration from beyond the score: from other arts, from nature, from literature, from spiritual life, from community. These are meaningful and necessary sources of renewal. But there is something deeply compelling in Kissin's conviction that the music itself is sufficient. Music is not merely a vehicle for motivation, or a means to an external reward. It is an end in itself.
This runs somewhat counter to the prevailing trend in children's education, where we are encouraged to gamify everything. Sticker charts, practice points, digital badges, leaderboards, treasure boxes — external rewards layered on top of the work in hopes of making the process more engaging. I understand the appeal, and in a desperate attempt to make students care, I have fallen into it myself. Learning an instrument requires patience, repetition, and focus, all of which can be difficult, especially for young students, and used thoughtfully and sparingly, gamification can offer real structure and short-term encouragement.
Still, I wonder if constant gamification sends the wrong message: that music itself is not inherently engaging enough, and must be sweetened with something else. That message runs counter to what I believe about the value of art.
My working model of motivation is fairly simple: People enjoy doing things well. When a student looks closely at the music, practices thoughtfully, listens attentively to a good teacher, and begins to hear real improvement, enjoyment follows naturally. There is a deep human satisfaction in competence, in clarity, in shaping a phrase beautifully. Good music, played well, is intrinsically rewarding. Motivation, in other words, does not always precede effort. More often, it emerges from it.
Storytelling as the Real Game
If we are going to talk about "gamifying" music education, then, I would argue for a different kind of game entirely: storytelling. Engage with the story of a piece. Who is speaking? What is happening? Is this a dance, a march, a requiem, a joke, a storm, a prayer? A piece can be explored through its character, its colour and texture, its historical context, the composer's intent, its emotional landscape. What would this sound like if it were whispered? Declared? Sung by a great diva? Played in a cathedral, or in a tiny room?
These are questions people of all ages enjoy turning over — I regularly grapple with them in my own daily practice. By age three, most children already understand narrative, character, and dramatic play. They instinctively experiment with voice, gesture, and emotion. Translating that instinct into sound is artistry, plain and simple.
When students engage with music this way, they are not being distracted from the work. They are being invited deeper into it. The role of technique becomes easier to see, practice sessions gain a sense of direction, and expression stops feeling like an abstract instruction — it becomes a natural outcome of imagination. Music does not need to be made more palatable. It already contains humanity, which is naturally interesting to humans. Our task as teachers is not to disguise the vegetables of music and dress them up as dessert, but to open students' minds to all the dishes that can be made from them.
Perhaps the goal, then, is not to eliminate gamification but to refine the game, so that the reward is not something added to the music but something discovered within it. This is why I believe serious music study is about far more than performance. When students learn to listen closely, shape phrases thoughtfully, and engage deeply with the character and structure of a piece, they become artists. In the fullest sense, they begin to develop the mind through music.
An Invitation
If this approach resonates with you, consider talking with your child's teacher this week about the story behind the piece they're learning. Ask what the music is trying to say, or what character it might have. You may be surprised how quickly practice becomes more focused, and more meaningful.
And if you're looking for a studio where musical understanding is treated as seriously as musical skill, we would be glad to speak with you.
