On writing songs and making life fun

Just before leaving for a lesson, I got an e-mail from the student’s mom: “We somehow misplaced a copy of ‘Chant to the Moon’ this week.  We actually think the dog ate it, but that sounds like a really silly excuse!” Reading this message, I felt a nice buzz of self-appreciation going through my head as one may have from getting the feeling of being able to respond to any unpredictable events by having the recipes from the past. “Dog ate the music” happened to me before, once supported by the proudly presented evidence of a half-chewed, mauled beyond taping, Rolland’s young people’s Method of playing violin. The solution was as simple as making a copy of the music!

Despite the previous wisdom of ‘know-how’ in many teaching situations, I have never been asked to get involved in writing a rock violin song with a student, therefore limiting my contribution to zero of raising a new Vanessa Mays or all other sorts of hiding under the kitchen table for hours, trying to fit the lyrics over riffs and harmonies, awesomely crazy violinists.

Attracting students to the world of “sweet emotion” of music (well, not too sweet in Aerosmith’s version) by involving them in enjoyable music-making practices, is becoming quite popular among music teachers.  Little people’s passion (though sometimes hammered away by schooling experience) to invent, make and use all sorts of things is well known. Would not it be logical to employ such human traits in the music pedagogy process?  While the most common teaching approach among classically trained musicians is to expose students (often very effectively) to the world of re-creating the written word of music ranging from Go Tell Aunt Rhody to Sibelius, it obviously lacks the innate creativity of improvising or composing music yourself.  It is not unusual that teachers’ faith in following “the letter” and structured practice techniques shifts students’ pleasure of making stuff up into the realm of uninspired and dreary experience of “doing” music. 

On the other hand, fully diving into the unknown to many professional folks remains the dominion of popular music, and may cause teachers’ reluctance due to their unfamiliarity with its construct.  Finding the way of making all involved parties to enjoy and be satisfied, we have to forge connections among the differing elements of the musical universe. In this respect, composing and performing a song may very well be a medium in which teachers and students can interact mutually, be critical, use imagination and learn both conventional and unorthodox ways of music making.

In my own experience as a teacher, I see that all of my public school students come to the elective string class as music enjoyers. Some love the sound of it, some like being with friends, and some are curious to try new things. No one ever joined the group because they hated it from the start.  Most children come with their own idea of what music is; they have a goal, they don’t always have the means to accomplish it.  I won’t hide the fact that my aspirations of being a music teacher include expanding my students’ horizons through the world I am the most accustomed with, but am I really that dim-witted and encapsulated in my own inclinations that I am ready to lose these inquiring minds to turning away from experiencing and savoring the full taste of music?  I hope, not.

Readings:

Allsup, R.E. (2011). Popular Music and Classical Musicians. Music Educators Journal, 97 (3), 30-34.

Jaffurs, S. E. (2004).The impact of informal music learning practices in the classroom, or how I learned

how to teach from a garage band. International Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 189-200.

Paul Hamlyn Foundation Special Project. (2009) Musical Futures, An Approach to Teaching and Learning. (Resource pack, 2^nd ed.). Compiled and Edited by A. D’Amore, ISBN: 978-1-905500-19-2.

Do we like it or not?

Have you ever asked yourself whether you enjoy teaching?  My first pedagogical experience took place in my alma mater, Novosibirsk Music College.  Staging a school play based on Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion but adapted to our student realities, I (as Mr. Higgins) got to teach violin to one of my classmates.  Due to some “unforgivable” mistakes made by the flower girl, the exchange became so emotional that one of my school instructors suggested that I should stay away from teaching to protect my health.  Just a couple of years later I had a significant bouquet of young students using me as a violin tutor to ensure their steady progress in Moscow. I loved it!  It is possible that the main reason for my excitement was the material compensation.  The job was paid so well that when my parents would offer to send me money, I refused every time causing my father severe perplexity.  I suppose the other reason could have been that my students advanced very well, even by their musician-parents’ standards, making me feel more confident, curious and greedy for my students’ future successes.

These days I teach approximately sixty children a week: individually and in ensembles, not counting another ninety people in the community orchestras that I conduct which, due to their nature, represent a different venue of pedagogical instruction.  I often hear from my colleagues-performers: “You must really enjoy it?!” with the subtext that not all of us do but commonly have to teach in order to supplement a musician’s income.  Do I? And if teaching gives me pleasure, do my students share my attitude or just have to endure my pedagogical expansion over a great geographical area? And if we all are fond of each other, do we actually musically benefit from spending time together?

Whereas by numerous accounts in Musical Futures, students’ motivation and enjoyment are closely connected with their achievements, teachers’ emotional satisfaction of their profession is stated only once in the Executive summary of the Musical Futures: A case study investigation.  Yet, after three years of the project designed to study the implications of the Musical Futures approach for school music pedagogy, the researchers found that 81 percent of the teachers reported positive change in their demeanor towards teaching. If such significant improvement was noted in teachers’ conduct, does it have a reciprocal effect on students’ learning outcomes? 

In a recent study by Frenzel et al (2009), Emotional transmission in the classroom: Exploring the relationship between teacher and student enjoyment, the authors hypothesized that teachers’ and students’ enjoyment are favorably connected.  They found that students’ appreciation of the class directly corresponds with teacher’s enjoyment manifested through enthusiastic style of instruction. Interestingly, even when the students were not fascinated by the subject, their level of enjoyment got boosted by teacher’s excitement.  In fact, even when teachers pretended to be happy, the learning environment in the class appeared to be positive.

I hope, especially because I genuinely like what I do, that my students reflect on my affection to music and teaching by enjoying and learning. I certainly grow better as a teacher by not seeing grumpy faces.

Inspired by "Musical Futures"

One of my teachers, the outstanding Russian violinist Grigory Zhislin (http://youtu.be/xfXujVPhbzM) used to say about Mozart's music: "Every measure should sound like a surprise." Nowadays it takes 0.17 seconds to Google-search whether Mozart’s Third Violin Concerto is full of surprises, but before the Internet era Zhislin’s approach appeared to me as a revelation. Throughout my music career I have come to many discoveries and it is my turn to give my students the opportunity to feel at home in the world of music.

The times have changed. The context of my musical upbringing cannot be more different from that of the children with whom I work. I grew up in Siberia in the land of blini (Russian pancakes). My students, in contrast, are becoming adults on the coast of New England. While I usually sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger in "Red Heat," my students emphasize their r's  or drop them altogether which gives us plenty of chances to laugh at each other. There is one quality that makes us alike: we all love music. Whereas my music interests spiral through J.S. Bach (http://www.jsbach.org/biography.html) and Michael Daugherty (http://www.michaeldaugherty.net/) to Hank Williams (http://youtu.be/-Lza3NVH6Ig) and Amy Winehouse (http://www.amywinehouse.com/), my students' preferences range from Justin Bieber (http://www.justinbiebermusic.com/) and Andy Byrd (http://www.andrewbird.net/)  to Belinda (http://www.belindaonline.org/) and Sufjan Stevens (http://www.sufjan.com/).

Enjoyment in learning is a major motivational factor. As old-fashioned music education in public schools rapidly runs out of gas, we must find a different way to incite students’ affection and lifelong involvement in music by including different traditions and cultures. “Musical Futures; An approach to teaching and learning” gives such opportunity.  One of the principal goals of this program supported by the Paul Hamlyn Foundation (http://www.phf.org.uk/), is to let students explore and discover music and music-making independently with teachers functioning as leaders and facilitators in “non-formal teaching” (MF, p. 44). It is imperative to differentiate between the three approaches in pedagogy discussed in “Musical Futures.”  One is “formal,” where the aims are clearly set and the student purposefully gathers information. Conversely, “informal” learning occurs involuntarily, without a goal in sight. Finally, in “non-formal” learning, the process may or may not be initiated by the student and is relatively structured (http://www.oecd.org/document/25/0,3746,en_2649_39263238_37136921_1_1_1_1,00.html).

In my brief reflection on “Musical Futures” I would like to share a little discovery that provided a bit of levity to my learning experience. On page 53, the authors present a music sample:




which instantly reminded me of another excerpt:




As I continued, on page 116, minimalism appeared as a technique which invokes students’ enthusiasm as well as develops their instrumental command.
Just a few days ago, working with a student orchestra, we rehearsed and performed Terry Riley’s “in C.”  Since our time frame was limited to five days, we practiced only twenty out of fifty three patterns in the piece. The students’ experimentation with freedom offered by Riley transformed from bewilderment through curiosity to a sincere astonishment and culminated in a performance accompanied by an abstract art slide show. “Music Futures” in action!