Sources of Cookie-Cutter Performances

Last week, my thoughts were sparked by comments made by Dolly Parton and Seal about returning to "pure and simple" performances. I came to the conclusion that the trend toward multi-media enhanced Classical music performances may often be attributed to a poorly developed interpretation. This week, my mind has been asking a single follow-up question: "WHY?" Here are a few of the culprits that I think are contributing to these less-than-inspiring recitals.

Emphasis placed on technique over artistry. Much of our work in music education is devoted to helping young artists develop their technique. After all, without a solid technique it is impossible to effectively communicate with an audience. However, there comes a point in the preparation process where the performer's focus needs to shift from the mechanics of making music to artistry, communication, and personal interpretation. When the shift occurs, the student often discovers the necessary step of improving their technique in order to accomplish their goals. This can result in a renewed interest in technical study on the part of the student now that they see the purpose of the work in their own repertoire.

The prevalence of recordings. I am an advocate of listening to performers from all generations and schools of thought. However, recordings can be intimidating to a young artist. When listening to a recording that is considered the gold standard, it is possible for the student to become convinced that they will never be able to perform at an acceptable level. Additionally, students may begin to listen to one artist exclusively -- resulting in mimicry rather than using the album as inspiration. There is another danger for the student that listens widely and indiscriminately to recordings. When one encounters a large number of mediocre performances, it is easy to fall victim to the opinion that things are "good enough" in their current state, eliminating the pursuit of higher levels of artistry.

Necessity of quick preparation. Music is not ready for public performance when the notes and rhythms are accurately learned. Time is needed for the melodies and harmonies to marinate in the soul. Collaborative partnerships need time to develop a mutual sense of direction and interpretation. Quite simply, the music needs ample time to mature. Sadly, it has become a trend in many schools to prepare and present material as quickly as possible so we can move on to the next program. The resulting music can often leave the audience wanting more and the musicians not fully enjoying the experience of presenting a mature, well-prepared recital.

The lost arts of reflection, experimentation, and imagination. Because students are preparing performances so quickly for fast approaching deadlines, there is rarely an opportunity to experiment musically. I don't see many students reflecting on the music and developing their personal interpretation. I long to have a student enter a rehearsal and tell me about the idea they have regarding a turn of a specific phrase...and then we give it a try. I believe that it is in the reflection and experimentation process that performers develop their own voice and begin to become contributing members of the artistic community.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Am I completely missing the point? Do you see additional sources of these cookie-cutter performances? Join the conversation by adding your comments below.

 

Stripped Down Performances

Earlier this month, country music legend Dolly Parton announced a major tour throughout the US and Canada later this year. The announcement was inspiring considering the singer's age as well as the fact that it has been more than 20 years since her last major tour. What I truly found remarkable and thought-provoking was Parton's description of the tour -- the concerts will be "stripped down" to reflect the promotion's Pure and Simple title.

In our technologically driven society, some observers attribute classical music's declining audiences in part to the genre's failure to entice patrons with the latest technology. This explains the appearance of light displays, intricate PowerPoint presentations, and movie clips in recital halls around the country in recent years. While I am all for using all forms of media when it enhances the overall experience, I also find that its inclusion is not always beneficial. I think it is time that we face the fact that all of the sparkle is sometimes included in an effort to disguise an inherent deficiency.

It seems that Dolly is on to something. During his March 18, 2016 interview on The Chew (ABC), Seal stated that the current plan for his upcoming European tour will feature him and one or two other musicians on stage. No light shows. No dancers. When asked why, Seal suggested that the audience wants to just focus on the message of the music. Is it possible that classical audiences are dwindling because we are no longer communicating relevant messages to them? Have we failed to present music that speaks to the heart? Do we as performers intentionally bring personal interpretations of the music to the recital stage that we have painstakingly developed in the practice room or are we simply regurgitating a soulless version of a favored recording?

That's the challenge facing musicians today. In the coming weeks, I'll explore what I believe to be some of the causes of our present cookie-cutter performances as well as steps today's teachers can take to break the cycle while training the next generation of musicians. I hope you'll join me for the conversation.

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Pianist vs. Accompanist

Recently, I attended a workshop discussing the skills needed to become a better accompanist. At the beginning of the session, the clinician stated that the difference between a pianist and an accompanist was the accompanist's awareness of breathing. I was disgruntled by the statement immediately, but tried to give the speaker the benefit of the doubt. As she continued her presentation, I became more and more convinced that she was a total hack who should never speak publicly about the art of piano collaboration. It also set me on my personal development of workshops on this topic about which I am extremely passionate.

I do not consider myself an accompanist. I am a pianist. End of statement. When one accompanies another person on a journey, the implication is that they are simply along for the ride. They are not significantly contributing in the efforts that will lead to the final destination. The same connotation is often held by those who view the pianist as nothing more than an "accompanist." The pianist is not viewed as a contributing member of the ensemble. While the piano part may be simple at times, there are still significant artistic choices that must be made. In my mind, an "accompanist" is someone who merely plays the notes on the page; a pianist brings artistry to the performance, allowing the notes on the page to take on a life of their own.

The distinction moves beyond the use of terminology though. To say that a pianist lacks awareness of breathing displays a total lack of understanding of the careful study of piano performance. Just as singers and instrumentalists rely on the breath to carefully shape their phrases, the pianist must allow the melody to breathe as it rises and falls. Although our instrument is not powered by the flow of air, playing without allowing the music to breathe in a natural way results in a performance that is stilted and lifeless.

Perhaps a better distinction to notice is the difference between a solo artist and a chamber musician. The solo pianist is concerned solely with the sounds coming from his instrument. The chamber pianist, on the other hand, fully understands the necessity of collaborating with another musician -- whether a vocalist, conductor, or instrumentalist -- to achieve a moving musical experience. (Hence the term frequently used to describe this specialized field of playing -- collaborative piano.) Many pianists find themselves living in both worlds at various times. Personally, I believe that pianists tend to prefer performing as a soloist or a collaborative pianist; there seems to be an affinity for one type of playing over the other.  Neither pianist is superior to the other; the two simply have different approaches to making music and will often find themselves called upon to perform in the other vein of piano performance. The ultimate goal of both pianists, however, is always the same -- to create the most beautiful sounds possible with the skills they have developed over years of study of the piano.

Seeking Young Audiences

Earlier this week, a friend of mine sent me a link to the trailer promoting LA Opera's upcoming production of The Magic Flute. The images are intriguing and I am interested in seeing the production. Take a minute and view the short trailer here. 

The more I thought about the production that was being advertised, the more I began to realize that LA Opera was pursuing a young audience. That's an interesting concept, so I decided to check out the rest of their upcoming season. What I found was both interesting and disturbing.

Seven operas are included in this season. Most are standards of the repertoire: Carmen, The Magic Flute, Lucia,  and Falstaff. Two lesser known works, Thais by Massenet and Billy Budd by Britten, are not totally surprising -- especially given the fact that 2013 is the centennial celebration of Britten's birth. The work that caught me totally by surprise was the revival of Philip Glass' Einstein on the Beach. Forgive me, but this "changing image of opera" was bad enough the first time around! Why bring it back?

I get that visual effects and the abstract attract young audiences. I further understand that explicit sexuality draws modern audiences. (Carmen, Billy Budd, and Thais all carry a "parental discretion advised" statement.) What I'm wondering is if all of the re-imagining, explicitness, and exploration of the "unusual" is really a service or a disservice to the art form. At what point do we stop attempting to entice audience's to attend and begin to expose them to the power of music without all the bells and whistles?

I'm certain I'll be accused of being a purist and elitist. Nothing is further from the truth. I'm all for using new means of expression when they enhance the musical experience. I'm just wondering where the line is between enhancement and intrusion.

I'm an enormous fan of the work at Los Angeles Opera. I owe much of my understanding of the form to the incredible work the company has done over the years. I fully intend to see the production of The Magic Flute they are presenting this year. I am simply raising an issue that's been on my mind for some time now and was brought to the forefront as I viewed their season line up.

Is It Live or Is It Memorex?

I always got a kick out of the commercials for Memorex audio tapes when I was growing up. Here's one of the ads that I clearly remember. It seemed so amazing that a recording could have the same acoustic effects as a live performance. While I still thrill at the technology, I find myself asking if it is live or is it lip-syncing?

As most of you know by now, Beyonce Knowles was accused of lip-syncing during President Obama's Inauguration earlier this week. I'm not here to debate whether or not Beyonce actually did use a prepared recording. Instead, I want to think about the question of integrity as it relates to the life of an artist.

My music appreciation students composed their first journal of the semester yesterday. Many of them were struggling to find a topic, so I provided some possible topics in class. One idea was the issue of lip-syncing. A large number of them chose to write on the subject; frankly, I was surprised at their views on the issue.

The overwhelming feeling by these students was that it was completely understandable that a professional artist would record their voice. Their acceptable reasons given for relying on a recording were cold temperatures, the possibility of not being able to hear clearly, and stage fright in front of millions of people. It was stated repeatedly that "everyone does it" and served as a moral imperative making it an acceptable action.

I don't want to make this into a bigger issue than it really is. Let's accept the fact that lip-syncing is not a matter of life or death. I must take exception with the issue though. Of the three reasons provided by my students (many of which I have also heard proclaimed by the media), I can accept the issue of the weather -- at least, to a degree. Any artist given the opportunity to sing at such a historic occasion is willing to risk a cold. I know that cold temperatures can reek havoc on the vocal cords; that risk is part of the excitement of watching a "live" event.

Many have compared singing in the open air of Washington with the acoustic issues one faces in a football stadium. Are you kidding me? I simply don't see the connection. Monday's setting was wide open with few objects around that would have caused the bounce-back that is the main reason cited. Stage fright? No way! These artists are touring all over the world, facing enormous audiences on a regular basis. It's part of the job and something performers learn to deal with.

As an educator, I am troubled that these accusations are not viewed as more seriously by some in society. Any student who falsely submits work that is not their own is charged with plagiarism. When an examination is administered, it is an opportunity to show the level of preparation and how well they perform under pressure. Yet we find it acceptable for a singer to pre-record and pass it off as live? Do you really think the recording wasn't doctored in the studio? Do we have any assurance that the first take was the only one?

It simply comes down to this for me: if I am going to hear you in person, I expect to hear you performing LIVE! Otherwise, I'll just stay home and let you send me the CD or I'll download the video on YouTube.

Continuing Education: The Importance of Reading for the Professional Musician

If you are anything like me, I was thrilled when I graduated from college that I would not have to sit in a classroom again on a regular basis.  I imagined my days filled with lots of time to practice and perform.  What a wistful dream that was!  As I continue on my own professional journey, I am continually reminded of how important it is to continue learning at all cost.

Musicians are eternally aware of the necessity of regular practice.  We thrive on the opportunity to appear on stage and share our music with an audience.  When we think about it, our education involved so much more than just practice and performance.  Why would we think the reading, writing and listening that occurred during those formative years are less important to our continued growth?

I love to read fiction.  It's my major method of relaxation and escape.  I do not find the same enjoyment reading about music.  Biographies, articles, and reviews can feel as though they are work and needed to be read with an analytical and intellectual eye.  Since I have recognized my feelings toward reading this material, I treat it as part of my work.  I schedule time each day to do a little of it and don't read while on vacation or taking a day off.

It's impossible to read everything that comes across my desk that I think is valuable. Here's a brief description of the types of reading that I try to include in my weekly reading times.

Books:  I am fascinated with composer biographies and spend the majority of my lecture time at the community college devoted to this material.  When I read a new biography on a composer, I tend to rework the corresponding lectures.  This helps to keep my lectures fresh, but it can also be distracting from other pressing tasks during the school term. When possible, I limit my reading of new biographies to the school breaks.

I continue to consult books throughout the year, however.  They serve as a first stop whenever I am doing any type of research.  What I find is that as I read the passages indicated in the index related to my topic, I get a sense of the author's writing style as well as the depth and breadth of the material.  Usually I have a good sense of whether I want to read the entire work or allow it to maintain its status as a research tool.  Those books I discover that I do want to read are placed on my active reading list that I consult when choosing my next reading goal.

Blogs:  What I miss most about school is the opportunity to share ideas with others in my field and listen to their thoughts.  Open dialogue about issues directly related to the field of music is an invaluable tool for personal development.  Every morning begins with a reading of the blogs that I follow.  Rarely do I comment on the post right away.  I enjoy allowing the ideas to simmer in my mind throughout the day.  This way I find the thoughts of another author sparking new ideas in me; very often these new ideas find their way here to be developed.

I include blogs outside of the musical realm in my daily reading as well.  I was surprised at how often an article about reading, crafting, cooking, or children have given me inspiration that improves my musicianship.

Reading blogs are not the only way the blogosphere has a positive influence on the musician.  In the coming days I'll tell you why I find writing a blog so valuable as well.

Magazines and Journals:  I neglected periodicals for far too long because I always seemed to be interrupted while reading the articles. I also felt that there was simply too much material to read each month to make my subscription worth the cost.

Currently I organize journals into three categories:  1)  must read entirely;  2) scan and read selections; 3) want to read.  At the moment, there are only two magazines in the first category:  Clavier Companion and Worship Leader.  These two works keep me grounded in the major areas of responsibilities that I currently hold as a pianist.  When my copy of American Music Teacher arrives, I scan it quickly and identify the articles I want to read. AMT found itself in this category because many of the blogs I follow are pedagogical in nature and this was one way to allow additional reading in other areas.  The list of magazines I would like to read constantly changes.  Opera News is currently at the top of the list since I am playing more and more opera scenes and this is a genre about which I have limited knowledge.

As I continue to transition to reading on my iPad, I am finding it is easier to read more articles in a shorter amount of time.  Convenience is an amazing time saver!

Reviews:  Musicians often find themselves needing to express intangible musical concepts to non-musicians.  Reading reviews are a great way to improve your language for such tasks.  Additionally, reviews provide insight into current concert trends while introducing you to unfamiliar music in addition to performers and conductors you might not be familiar with.  I also find it fun to read reviews since I enjoy traveling; the articles give me a sense of the musical culture of cities around the world that I have not yet had the opportunity to visit.

Now the obvious question:  how much reading do I actually do in a given day?  I shoot for an hour of reading throughout the course of the day.  If the day is insanely busy and I have very little time to spare (which happens more often than any of us would like), I make sure to get through the day's blogs and try to include a short magazine article.

What are your reading habits?  I'm always looking for recommendations, so tell me the blogs, magazines, and books that you consider must reads for all musicians in the comments section below.

Music in Translation

There are some issues that I simply wish would just go away.  One of these seems to have been a topic of discussion in my world for far too long:  playing music composed for the harpsichord on modern instruments.  While I respect the importance of historical performance, I feel that this is too limiting in the musical development of our students.  Where do we draw the line?  Works composed for harpsichord are off limits, but those for forte-piano are okay?  Or is it a matter of the age of the performers:  you can play all works on a modern instrument until you complete high school and then the rules change?  Who gets to decide what is appropriate?  Why does it really matter?

The topic came up again in a conversation with a friend who teaches English literature.  She made a very powerful observation that essentially settled the issue in my mind.  In other disciplines, it is admitted that the ideal situation is to read literature in the language that it was written;  however, because the texts are so important to a thorough understanding of the discipline, they are often read, evaluated, and cited in translation.  She went further to explain that sometimes works are "translated" when there are significant developments in a language.  Works such as Canterbury Tales and Beowolf have been translated from Old English into modern English so we can read, comprehend, and experience the majesty of the texts.  Thus, it follows that musicians may find themselves in situations where they need to "translate" the performance of some compositions to modern instruments in order to experience them firsthand.

As musicians, most of us will agree that it is ideal to perform Bach and Scarlatti on the harpsichord.  When that option is not feasible for whatever reason, we study the literature on a modern instrument.  Not only do we study it, but we also perform it.  After all, the art of performance is not just about the musician's interest and pleasure; it is also a means of educating our audience and exposing them to music from all eras and of all styles.

How Young is Too Young?

Like most piano teachers, I get asked a ton of questions about piano lessons over and over again.  One question seems to come up more often than the others:  what is the youngest student you are willing to teach?  In other words, how young is too young?

I wish there was a simple answer to this question.  No two children are exactly alike.  A 4-year-old may be ready for lessons while a 6-year-old is not.  Here are some of the questions I ask inquiring parents to help them determine if now is the time to begin lessons for their youngster.

• Does the child have a firm grasp on the alphabet, counting, and sequencing?  These skills are fundamental to some of the basic elements of playing the instrument.
• Can the child remain focused on a single task for several minutes?  While the lesson is broken up into various segments and activities are varied in order to keep young minds active, the student will still need to be able to remain on task for 5 minutes at a time. 
• Has the student shown interest in playing the piano?  You would not believe the number of times that parents answer "no" to this question.  While I firmly believe in musical education, it is not something to be forced upon a child.  Placing them in lessons before they are emotionally, physically, and intellectually ready can result in a negative experience.

Once I have asked these simple questions, I begin to get a sense of who the child is - in the parent's mind, at least.  If it seems that the child might be ready for lessons and is younger than 7, I advise the adult that young children sometimes progress slower than their older counter parts.  I cannot predict where it will happen, but there often seems to be a single concept that becomes a roadblock to the young mind and takes a while to get past.  Rather than focusing on what they cannot do, I choose to spend a lot of time re-enforcing what they have already learned in order to insure that they are still enjoying playing the piano.  Generally, the student will let me know when they are ready to explore the new concept again through their questions and we normally have success.

If the parent is cool with a slower pace for the young child, I recommend having a few lessons together without making a long term commitment.  This allows everyone involved -- teacher, parent, and student -- to see if the relationship will work and is worth the investment of time and finances at this time.

If pushed into a corner to give an age, I normally suggest that a child begin lessons no earlier than the spring semester of kindergarten.  There's nothing scientific that I've found to support that....it's just been my experience.  Let me hear from you.  How young is too young to begin piano lessons in your studio?

Teaching Philosophy

Once again, I find myself applying for jobs around the country in hopes of landing that first full time position.  As I prepare for a new round of applications and interviews, I am reviewing my materials and have found that my philosophy of teaching needs a serious overhaul. 

Of all the supporting documents that are requested, this one causes me the most difficulty.  In my current situation, I am constantly changing hats.  My morning begins as a lecturer before morphing into the role of private instructor and collaborative artist.  The difficulty that I am having is developing a statement that reflects the principles I strive to adhere to in my teaching that are not exclusive to my role as either a classroom lecturer or private instructor. 

Further, I am finding that my teaching philosophy is a work in progress.  Each day brings new insights and revelations into the art of teaching students about music.  The document, therefore, can be little more than a snapshot into my educational philosophy at that moment in time.  A reflective instructor is constantly reviewing and evaluating their approach and making necessary modifications to their instructional methods.  While I do find that my basic philosophy of education is established, it is my hope that my philosophy remains flexible and malleable -- constantly subject to revision as I have new insights and experiences.

What do you find to be the most important aspect of your teaching philosophy?  What things do you wish you had considered early on that you overlooked?  I'd love to hear from you.

The Most Important Critic

As performers, we are constantly subjected to the harsh criticism of others. Some are well-meaning, offering advice meant to improve some aspect of our career. Some criticism is sparked by jealousy and insecurity on the part of the critic. Others are simply mean-spirited comments designed to tear us apart. I have had my fair share of all three categories of criticism recently. It is easy to fall into a state of depression as a result of the comments. After all, the performance that is being reviewed is not some laboratory experiment; it is an extension of me as a person – and intricately linked to my emotions and thoughts.

Finally, I have reached the point where I can say, “Enough is enough!” If you’re not happy with my interpretation of a piece, don’t listen. Don’t like my approach or my level of commitment? Find someone else to work with. You don’t like my teaching philosophy? Find another teacher. The single critic that can have a profound impact on my music is me….all the rest is just noise.

Do I think I have all the answers? Certainly not. As a musician, however, I have to make a decision that I am committed to and then run with it. I continue to listen to the advice of others – those I trust and respect, who have shown themselves to be genuine and courteous, wanting to see me succeed. When the curtain comes down, the one who must be able to defend the choices made is only me.

So, let the criticism come. These are the questions that I’m asking myself. Am I happy? Do I like the message my music is portraying? Am I being true to myself, my goals, and my dreams? As long as I can honestly say “yes” to all of these questions, my inner critic is pleased and I’ll happily follow the road ahead wherever it leads.

Keeping Students Motivated

Teachers spend many hours preparing lesson plans and assessing student learning and understanding.  Sadly, all of this planning is worthless if we are unable to motivate our students.  Whether we are considering private lessons or a traditional classroom setting, the dilemma is the same.  Here are a few things I have found to be helpful in motivating students in their musical studies.

First, establish how the study of music is beneficial in other areas.  A piano student may rebel against learning music theory until they realize that it will also pay dividends in their math classes.  Recently, a student had a complete attitude change when she saw the effect her music appreciation class was having on her understanding of world history.   All students can see the value of having a leg up on their colleagues in other classes, so play up these advantages.

Diversity is the spice of life, so look for opportunities to mix things up.  My piano students enjoy stepping away from the instrument to watch a video occasionally.  In history classes, I look for as many scandalous anecdotes about composers as I can find!  The naughtier, the better -- students relax and the person leaps off the page and into their memory.

Keep it fun!  Disguising learning into some form of entertainment is invaluable.  Make your students laugh; never let them predict exactly what's coming next.  Even when they are working hard, the possibility of silliness and fun keeps them coming back for more.

Praise success -- and demand even more!  I am quick to celebrate the accomplishments of my students, but I am never satisfied.  There will always be more to learn, more to explore, and more to achieve.  Learning is a lifelong pursuit, not something we achieve at the end of the semester.

Often my students ask me to lower my standards.  It's not going to happen.  My job as an educator is to help them see all they can achieve and give them the necessary tools to do what they are capable of.  That's why my piano students are constantly learning new music and why my exams are notoriously difficult.

Am I able to motivate all students?  No, there are those who are not interested in learning.  They are merely pursuing a diploma -- a piece of paper that has little significance when separated from true intellectual achievement.  Those students who are pursuing an authentic learning experience find my classes challenging and demanding -- but ultimately a truly rewarding experience.  Those are the students who motivate me to continue motivating new students year after year!

My Continued Adventures in Teaching Note Reading

Tuesday was another fun-filled afternoon of piano lessons in my studio.  Recently, I have noticed two students that have struggled with note reading, so I decided to use some note-reading worksheets to see if I can determine the root cause.

The younger student is constantly second-guessing her playing and making mistakes.  Her understanding of rhythm, however, is developing nicely.  When given the treble clef worksheet, she would pause occasionally to check notes -- especially as they moved into the upper range of the staff where we have not yet done much playing.  I didn't find this alarming.  As I checked her work, I found that she was consistently correct in her responses.  Now I'm completely puzzled.

The thought occured to me that I need to ask her to play the individual measures from the worksheet.  The student played the correct letter names, but almost always in the wrong register of the instrument.  There's the problem:  there is a missed connection between the geography of the written score and that of the keyboard.  I loved the sparkle in her eyes as we together figured out what the problem was and I assured her that it can be fixed.

Student #2 presented a slightly more difficult situation.  This student is the same teen that I wrote about last week.  We worked on a bass clef worksheet.  I sat and watched as she tried to figure out the notes by using rudimentary memory aids for each of the lines and spaces.  Although ultimately accurate for the most part, I must admit that it was a painful process to observe in a student who has studied music for over two years.  When we went to the keyboard, we began to dialogue about how she approaches reading a piece.  Her  answer was that she is looking at the distance and direction the notes are moving and making an educated guess at the correct note.  Her instincts are quite good, but her lack of reading skills and regular practice do not allow her musical ear to be the helpful tool that it can be.

With my beginning student, I think I have a clear plan of attack now that I have some insight into the underlying problem.  My teen student is a different story.  I'm trying to brainstorm how to teach this concept that was never a difficulty for me personally and not something I have encountered in another student before.  Since she performs excellently in math and science, I am considering approaching the problem by intensifying the theory study during our weekly lessons, but I'm not sure that approach won't compound the problem rather than resolve it.  I certainly have a lot to ponder this week.

Following the Questions

During my morning of lectures, I had one of those experiences for which every teacher hopes. At the back of the room, a student raised his hand and asked a question. This question was not one asking for a repetition of previously shared information or if this information was really important in relation to the exam. No, this question could only follow a precursory statement. The student began, "I know we don't have to know this for the test, but I've always wondered…." What a wonderfully challenging opportunity. In that moment, I was faced with the choice to take advantage of a teachable moment and veer away from my planned curriculum or squash the student's inquisitiveness. I answered his question thoroughly and hope that I made it clear to the other students present that my classroom is a place where inquiry is welcome – even when those questions take us slightly away from the planned discussion. In my personal experience, it has been those explorative discussions that have led to some of my greatest learning experiences, exposing me to new areas of learning that I did not realize were available to me.
I have spent much of the day thinking about that simple encounter. What would happen if I followed the questions in every class, regardless of the subject? Think about the implications. When is it better to explain the concept of the slur to the young piano student: when the published curriculum dictates or when the eight-year-old girl points to the musical marking and asks "What is THAT?" By following the questions, we are matching our teaching with the desired learning goals of the student. Aren't the best educational pursuits learner-centered? If students are not the center of our teaching goals, we are missing the point of WHY we teach as well as the importance of knowing WHO we are teaching.
I realize that a curriculum is necessary to guide our teaching. I do not recommend totally abandoning lesson plans. As music professionals, we have a clear understanding of the material we are teaching and must plan the best route to take our students from the "known" to the "unknown." However, in order to insure that our instruction does not become stale and ineffective, take a chance and look for opportunities to follow students down paths of learning that are initiated by their personal inquiries. I believe that both you and your students will find it a rewarding experience and one that has positive and lasting outcomes.

Why Concerts Matter – Take 2

Yesterday, I began teaching a new semester of Music Appreciation at Mid-South Community College in West Memphis. The first day in each section of the class was filled with the thrilling excitement of reviewing the course syllabus so everyone would know what will be required of them this semester. As usual, I heard groans, grumblings, and sundry other sounds of disapproval when I explained to the students that they would be required to attend two classical concerts to fulfill the course's requirements. "But why?" was the repeated cry. Since the defense of concerts as part of the Music Appreciation curriculum has become a major point of discussion each semester, I thought it would be a good blog topic for this evening.

In order to understand more about music, a student must be exposed to it. Why this concept is so foreign to some students is beyond me! While students do not like the idea of spending time in labs for biology, math, or foreign language courses, they accept this additional time of observation as a necessary component of the course. In essence, attending concerts is a working music lab. In order to fully understand concepts presented in lectures, students must get away from the classroom and hear the theories presented in their natural habitat on stage.

Many students argue that they should be able to go to any concert they like since they are paying for the ticket. My response is simple; many of the concerts that you are invited to attend in fulfillment of the requirement have no admission charge. So the assertion that you are spending your hard-earned money on entertainment you don't enjoy is void. Furthermore, any student who claims to enjoy all their homework assignments in other classes is either a liar or delusional. I won't make that judgment, but I'll let you decide for yourself into which category I think most of them fall. This raises an additional issue in the mind of the student. Why am I required to take a course in music since I am not majoring in music? The arts were not created in a vacuum and were significantly impacted by the politics, literature, philosophy, scientific development, and religious views of the day. By examining the arts that were influenced by these fields, the student develops a deeper understanding of the historical progression of the Western World; such understanding and knowledge is an early essential step on the journey from student to scholar.

Lastly, students often ask why they are not merely permitted to listen to recordings or watch videotaped performances. While both of these Medias are valuable tools in the study of music, a few drawbacks must be considered. Firstly, recordings are often heavily edited in order to arrive at a "perfect" performance. While the pursuit of excellence is admirable, these edited performances can result in an unrealistic recording that lacks a certain amount of integrity of performance. Secondly – and in my opinion, most importantly – recorded performances can not accurately convey the vivacity and energy that an audience experiences in a live performance. While we are studying the music itself in this course, the listener's emotional response to the performance must be included in the discussion of the composition's greatness. Beethoven's Ninth Symphony would not be considered a masterpiece of the repertoire if its performance did not elicit a significant emotional response from those who have heard it over the centuries.

That's why I firmly believe in the value of concert attendance as part of the Music Appreciation curriculum. The goal is neither for a student to be able to eloquently discuss a piece's harmonic structure nor is it to convince them to become supporters of the local classical music radio station. Rather, my goal is to give the student enough tools to intelligently attend a previously unfamiliar artistic performance that allows them to experience the heightened emotional response that the greatest music of Western history can elicit.

Now it's time for me to find my next concert to attend. Hope to see you there!

The Importance of Concerts

A sad day has finally arrived. Today is the last day of my summer break. The weekend is very full and a new semester of music classes begins on Monday. While I am enjoying this final day of vacation, I am also putting the finishing touches on courses and making plans for the new year in my piano studio. One of the most surprising decisions I have made is that I plan to have a studio recital this year. This is especially surprising considering the fact that I always DETESTED these forced performances during my early years of musical training.
As I was thinking about repertoire choices for my students, I began to realize how important it is to have them perform. Public performances allow the musician to experience the joy of sharing their art with an appreciative audience and take the pursuit of the instrument out of the practice room alone. The benefits of playing in a recital extend beyond the musical development of the child as well. Performing increases the student's confidence, self-image, and creativity while diminishing their fear of appearing before a large crowd and feelings of inferiority.
Given all of these benefits, why would I hesitate to prepare my students for a studio recital? Aside from the logistical difficulties of securing a convenient location and quality instrument, I also do not look forward to dealing with the pressure often applied to students by over-bearing parents. (I'm experiencing one case of this now – before the child's first piano lesson – and it will probably be the topic of a future post.) While well-intentioned, parents can do great damage to the blooming young musician by placing undue pressure and unrealistic performance expectations on the child rather than encouraging them to enjoy the experience of making music for their friends and family. My studio is still relatively small at this point, so the possibility of comparison between pianists is great. "Why didn't you work as hard as Jenna? Did you HEAR how beautifully she played?" Such comments detract from the individual accomplishments of the student and place the focus on their inferiority in comparison to other players. It is important to remember that no two musicians develop along the same tract and at the same rate. Rather than focusing on the negative, I encourage parents to find the points of growth in their child's playing and focus on the positive.
I'm in the process of selecting repertoire for my young pianists and have discovered a wonderful resource that I want to share with you. Lynn Freeman Olson has compiled and edited First Steps in Keyboard Literature: the Easiest Classics to Moderns in Original Forms. Distributed by Alfred Publishing, this collection is a perfect addition to the piano teacher's library if you are looking for repertoire to introduce your beginning students to Classical literature. The selected pieces are rarely longer than 1 page and many of them are composed in a basic 5-finger position. Rhythms are simple – nothing more difficult than some running eighth notes – and the scores are large and clearly arranged, making them perfect for young eyes. I anticipate purchasing several copies of First Steps in Keyboard Literature this semester as my students and I begin the journey towards our first recital together.
I would love to hear about your first experiences with a studio recital. Your success stories will encourage me to keep the faith. I'll also welcome any stories about mistakes you made that I might be able to avoid. On Monday, I will examine the concert from the other side of the flood lights and explore their importance in the development of the educated non-musician. Let the sharing begin!

Thoughts from the Shanghai Circus

Hello, my friends!  I have missed sharing my thoughts with all of you recently, but felt I needed some time away from life in general, so I took a much needed mini-vacation at the end of last week.  Now that I'm home again, I find myself trying to get back into the routine of writing. 

I traveled to Branson, Missouri, a quaint little town in the Ozark Mountains that is known for its family-friendly stage shows.  Since I was essentially taking a vacation from the life of a performing musician, I decided that I wanted to see a show that didn't have a strong musical theme.  I chose to see the Chinese Acrobats of the New Shanghai Circus.  I shouldn't have been surprised, but as soon as I set out to enjoy an evening without thinking about music, my mind was filled with the things I could take from the program and apply to my music.

On Friday evening, I was drawn into the performance by the beautiful colors, the variety of dances displayed, and the artistry of the overall performance.  This program moved from the grace of the butterfly lovers soaring over the stage on their satin ribbon to masterful displays of technique using a child's toy before ending with the heart-pounding excitement of the acrobats with their see-saw.  The connection to music is fairly clear.  By programming recitals that include moments of sheer beauty in addition to moments of exhilarating spectacle, the audience is thoroughly engaged because of the diversity and variety of music presented.

As I left the auditorium, I continued to reflect on the Circus as a whole.  I felt as though some of the routines were severely inferior to the others.  This was made painfully clear because of the act's placement in the show.  Following one of the most beautiful displays of dance I had ever seen came a second-rate attempt at illusion.  The props did not support the intended illusion; the "magician" had little stage presence.  Sadly, this act occurred half-way through the second act.  Just as the ensemble should have been preparing the audience for a climatic finale, the show hit a major snag from which it never recovered. 

It is essential as performers of any kind that we carefully plan our programs with the audience's emotional journey in mind.  While there may be a piece that I would like to play early in the recital in order to navigate a difficult passage without fatigue beginning to set in, I must remember that the program's order is not exclusively about my comfort.  Certainly I must consider what sequence will allow me to give my best performance.  I must also make sure that my preferred order leads the listener from one piece to the next in order to insure that they have a satisfying musical experience.

Lastly, I noticed the audience's response.  By nature, an acrobat's performance will contain amazing feats performed in rapid succession.  While I do not claim to be either a dancer or acrobat, as a performer, I do understand that the most difficult routines also contain moments of simplicity to allow the audience and artist to prepare themselves for the climax to come.  Friday evening's audience was what I consider to be a typical cross-section of the average American audience.  It was amusing -- and actually frustrating -- to sit in the audience and listen to the "oohs" and "aahs" at the beginning of each new act that were accompanied by thunderous applause.  As the routines proceeded, the spectacle became more exciting and impressive, but the audience had already lavished its highest praise and was ready for the next act to take the stage.

Most disheartening, however, was the realization that audiences enjoy thrilling moments because there is always the possibility of failure.  During a wonderfully beautiful segment featuring a cast of young ladies who were balancing spinning plates high in the air while performing elegant gymnastic tricks, one member of the cast appeared to have lost focus momentarily, causing plates to noisily crash to the floor.  These professionals continued to maintain their part in the scene while making every effort to discreetly clean up their mess in order to insure their colleagues continued success in the performance.  While I was thrilled with their commitment to recovery, I was appalled by the audience's response. 

A mature couple sat directly behind me and loudly commented on the accident.  Not only did they point out the misstep and laugh, they made wagers with each other for the rest of the night regarding which performers would be the next to stumble.  (Thankfully, this was the only catastrophe that we would observe on this night.)  What I came to realize is that audiences are often thrilled by technical display not only because of the excitement they provide, but also because of the possibility that they may catch us in an obvious error.  Am I being too pessimistic to think that a performer's mistake gives the audience an opportunity to lessen the talent of the individual and feel better about themselves?  I hope I am only seeing the worst in people, but I fear that it may be all too true. 

I do not intend to end this post with a negative impression.  Facts are facts:  planning is essential, artistry must be the centerpiece of our programs, and audiences can be mean.  The good news is that I am only responsible for two of those aspects.  If I plan effectively and relentlessly pursue artistic excellence in my concerts, I have done everything I can.  While I want the audience to have a pleasing experience, I know that their responses -- whether positive or negative -- do not define my talent, my happiness, nor my success.  That's the biggest lesson I walked away with after visiting the Shanghai Circus while on vacation.

Beyond the Page

Notes, rhythms, dynamics, phrase markings, tempi......all of these are clearly communicated to the performer on the page. Even when impeccable attention is given to the many details of the score, no two accomplished musicians will present the same piece in an identical manner. This truth speaks to the importance of the musical aspects which are not on the page -- those extra-musical ideas that we bring to the stage.

The importance of the unprinted musicality was made painfully obvious to my own ear recently. I am in the process of recording two CDs and have received an initial version of the Christmas album for preliminary review. As I prepared to listen, I was rather apprehensive because I recalled my emotional and physical state on that Thursday afternoon. My mind was filled with a laundry list of things that had to be completed in the closing days of the summer semester and my body was beginning to drag as a result of the many recent demands of church, home, and work. As I listened to the recording, my concerns were obviously justified; the playing was accurate for the most part, but it was flat, lifeless, and -- well, let's just cut to the chase -- quite BORING! This wasn't an issue associated with the recording technician or the quality of the instrument. The problem was that I was not in a place to communicate musically on the day of the recording.

Many musicians play their instruments with great technical facility and amaze us with their virtuoso displays. For me, such performances are thrilling in the moment, but their power is short-lived. I would rather listen to an interpretation that speaks to me at the deepest level -- one that expresses the unique ideas of the recitalist. In a perfect world, we never have to choose between artistry and technique. Sadly, I'm only human and sometimes find myself having to choose between technique and musicality-- we all do from time to time if we're willing to admit it. Without fail, I choose artistry. I choose to communicate with my audience through the music's voice rather than play merely the notes on the page. Without communication, my performance is nothing more than a metronomic regurgitation of the notes on the page that is no different from that of any second-rate pianist.

Needless to say, I'm arranging a date for another recording session. To get ready for this round of studio time, I am continuing to review notes and fix problematic passages, but more importantly, I am taking the time to rest so I am emotionally and spiritually prepared to musically communicate those messages that are most important to me.

The Power of Words

While reading through the blogs I follow this morning, I came across this wonderful article by Valerie Kampmeier entitled "Talking to Your Students." It's has been a great reminder to me at the beginning of an extremely busy down how powerful my words can be. Not only will they shape the attitudes of my students, but the words I speak will also effect my experience throughout the day. Take a few minutes to read Valerie's post and think about the words you say....you may find yourself realizing that you need to change a few!

Honesty to the Score

My chamber ensemble rehearsed yesterday for an upcoming patriotic recital. As we worked through the repertoire, I was asked to make some changes to the arrangements. While not an uncommon request, it got me thinking. How free are we to make changes to a composer's work? Just how honest does a musician need to be to the score?

As pianists we run into orchestral reductions on a regular basis. Generally, these scores result in one of two questions. The question we HOPE to ask is this: What voices do I double in order to flesh out the score? The dreaded question (and sadly, the more common one in my experience) is what notes am I leaving out in order to make the piece playable. Both of these modifications to scores are appropriate since the score was not originally conceived for the solo piano. The goal of any good reduction is to make the piano sound orchestral. Often this requires doublings--especially in the left hand. On the flip side, some publishers fail to consider the differences between study scores and performance scores. They simply put every single note onto a single staff; it sometimes feels as though the reduction should come with a note attached that reads "Good Luck!"

For this patriotic concert, we are performing several traditional songs that are set in moderate keys for the average singer. My vocalist is a coloratura soprano! The low settings have been causing lots of difficulty in programming and making sure she sounds her best. The request has been made to transpose the songs a third higher. Fortunately the parts are not difficult, so it's not an outlandish request. Intellectually, I don't have a problem transposing songs to better keys. The songs of many composers - Brahms, Wolf, and Schubert, for instance - have been published in various keys for differing vocal ranges. While the original key of the song may be more comfortable for the pianist, the transposed keys are also valid since the song's structure remains in tact. The principle is the same in my situation.

So far, everything seems to be kosher and unoffensive to my traditionalist mentality. There is one final request that has been made. The art song "Nancy Hanks" by Katherine Davis is clearly set in the key of E minor for the majority of the piece. At the final cadential point, the composer indicates a resolution to the parallel major - E major - followed by a series of melodic fifths in the keyboard. The effect is one of hope and honor. The open fifths provide some ambiguity as to the final tonal area of the piece; without the presence of the third, we cannot state with certainty that the work ends in major or minor. Personally, I think this final cadence serves as the climax of the entire song.

Herein lies the dilemma. I have been instructed to change the major chord to the minor. After reading Geraldine Boyer-Cussak's blog entitled "Who is Your Customer?" I am realizing that at times it becomes necessary to put your musical instincts aside in order to appease the customer. So, this weekend I will play the minor chord. I may be cringing, but I'll play it.

But the question of musical ethics still remains. Once we establish that the published score is reliable, do we have the right to make changes to the harmonic structure of a composer's work in order to suit our personal tastes and preferences? I feel as though it is the responsibility of the artist to perform the selected music as closely as possible to the composer's notated intentions. Once we begin to alter the composition itself, we cross the line from "interpreter" to "composer."

This is not the first time I've encountered this issue (not even in relation to this piece!) and it certainly will not be the last. It's just one of those things that makes you ask "What do I really think about this?" I'd love to hear your opinions about the performer's responsibility to remaining honest to the score.

Time to go back to my transposition work now!

Reflections on Music Camp 2010

I survived! Music Camp is over and I'm back to the regular routine of writing. As I begin my recovery from the past 14 days, my thoughts are revisiting the experience and I am reminded of a few things about children and their abilities. While these concepts are true about music in the church, I believe the application reaches into our private studios and music classrooms.

• Children are sponges! Kids absorb new material quickly and thoroughly. This fact becomes painfully obvious when it becomes necessary to reteach due to a misconception or poor planning. Once a child "learns" material, it is often extremely difficult to unlearn.
• Instruct in multiple learning styles for maximum retention! As a church musician, my primary goal for Music Camp was to instill Biblical truths into the hearts of children while teaching them some introductory musical concepts. The primary method of instruction was singing. By adding visual cues, the learning was further enhanced. Movement activated the kinesthetic learning style while including drama appealed to the creative side of the child. By gradually adding new dimensions of instruction, the child was repeatedly instructed in the basic truth.
• Repetition is key! Although adults often become frustrated with repeated presentations of material, children seem to thrive on it! While the repeated lesson may be identical, the child's interaction with the material is not. Each return to familiar material allows the child to explore the concept at a higher intellectual level. This, in turn, allows for further discovery and questioning.
• Children can achieve! Let this be a constant reminder to you. Children can perform at high levels of excellence, so set the bar high, give them the necessary tools and support to succeed, and watch them soar!

Now, it's time to crawl back into my cave and recover a bit more; it's almost time to start planning for my next musical adventure with the children of my congregation.