I agree with Linklater that the warmup is an underutilized resource in instrumental music education. In most situations I have been in, warmups were just something quick to get everyone playing so the group could get to the real stuff: rehearsing pieces.
I can see how this is a temptation. We often program ambitious concerts and pride ourselves on polished performances. However, the warmup allows a chance to focus on some generalized skills that can really help students develop in a way that pieces do not always provide. I think this is especially true in the context of intonation.
Most students can generally tell when they play the wrong notes or rhythms, provided they know how the piece goes. However, learning to tell if one is in tune takes more focused listening. Many times, in the course of a piece, I have seen a conductor do the "point at the ear" move or say "flutes watch the pitch, you are going flat" or something to that effect. Then, upon the second playing of the passage, it is just as out of tune as it was the first time. This is because the conductor had not spent the time developing listening for intonation in the group.
Linklater's ideas for intonation are all very good. Students have to first learn what in tune and out of tune sound like, most easily done on like instruments, and learn to listen for the beats in the sound waves. This needs time and models. Without it, even if students know how to adjust the pitch of their own instrument, you essentially have the musical equivalent of a bunch of blindfolded people trying to play darts. And who hasn't seen the concert in which every ten seconds some flutist decides to adjust the headjoint. In my experience, this kind of behavior is a telltale sign of shooting the dark when it comes to intonation.
The other issue with the warmup is to make sure the students are invested. While some routine is desirable, if the warmup is exactly the same every day, students will check out fast. Similarly, if the warmup isn't understood or treated as important, students will perform it on auto-pilot. Thus, it is important to vary the warmup from day to day and to make sure that it is clear to students what the goals and purposes of the warmup are. This will facilitate attention and focus and allow the students to best benefit from a well planned warmup.
Matt's Instrumental Methods Blog
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
blog 4/1
Having read Austin's article on competitions, I can definitely observe what he was talking about in my own high school experience. My school generally did well in competitions, but I can definitely see, looking back, the pride that derived from winning. For many students, the concert was about putting out the top product. Some students were even concerned with another very excellent school(both schools almost always got straight Is) and considered this school a rival. They wanted to know who did better.
Although the situation for us was probably better than at a competing school that struggled to earn high ratings, I think there were a lot of educational temptations and challenges that accompanied this culture. It made a lot of things easier for the directors: recruiting, boosters, administrative support, personal prestige. An outside organization was placing its stamp of approval on the program and those involved, which helped make people eager and confident to support the program and make it a point of pride for the school. Students bought in because it was something they took pride in and they wanted to live up the the school's musical legacy.
However, educationally, music as a process is more important than music as a product. Students learn along the way. Maintaining the excellence in terms of competing, however, makes it tempting for the director to promote the product. The most efficient method of producing the product is to spend class time exclusively rehearsing and picking apart mistakes. It is tempting to simply instruct students what to do and not leave time for exploration or attempt deeper understanding of the material. Understanding how to rehearse, practice, and fit into a group, but it isn't everything. I felt that the other things were neglected in my high school band. Fortunately, I had private lessons to make this up for me.
I thought this culture also promoted a sense of stressfulness at performances. Directors were constantly tuning instruments, giving notes, picking at things, and generally dress rehearsing extensively. It always made me feel frantic at the start of the concert. I was bombarded with so much extra information. Even today, I feel that I perform best when I am able to walk out on stage confident in what I had already learned and practiced eager to share and express. If I haven't learned it by the day of the concert, the extra 5 minutes of dress rehearsal are not likely to make a difference.
I also felt that a strong sense of "mistake avoidance" pervaded performing and evaluations of performances. When I had a piccolo solo, I was worried mainly about playing all the correct notes. When the trumpets messed up an entrance at contest, it was thereafter referred to as "the trumpet debacle" by the band. A holistic evaluation was often lacking from students, even if the adjudicators gave such comments.
I highly doubt that, regardless of what my own philosophy might ultimately be, I will be able to just walk away from contest in my actual position. However, I do agree with a lot of what Austin says: competition can be damaging and shape the beliefs of students in negative ways. However, I hope that I, by emphasis and example, can teach my students that music making is a process and that concerts are primarily about expression and sharing, not avoiding screw ups or being better than someone else.
Although the situation for us was probably better than at a competing school that struggled to earn high ratings, I think there were a lot of educational temptations and challenges that accompanied this culture. It made a lot of things easier for the directors: recruiting, boosters, administrative support, personal prestige. An outside organization was placing its stamp of approval on the program and those involved, which helped make people eager and confident to support the program and make it a point of pride for the school. Students bought in because it was something they took pride in and they wanted to live up the the school's musical legacy.
However, educationally, music as a process is more important than music as a product. Students learn along the way. Maintaining the excellence in terms of competing, however, makes it tempting for the director to promote the product. The most efficient method of producing the product is to spend class time exclusively rehearsing and picking apart mistakes. It is tempting to simply instruct students what to do and not leave time for exploration or attempt deeper understanding of the material. Understanding how to rehearse, practice, and fit into a group, but it isn't everything. I felt that the other things were neglected in my high school band. Fortunately, I had private lessons to make this up for me.
I thought this culture also promoted a sense of stressfulness at performances. Directors were constantly tuning instruments, giving notes, picking at things, and generally dress rehearsing extensively. It always made me feel frantic at the start of the concert. I was bombarded with so much extra information. Even today, I feel that I perform best when I am able to walk out on stage confident in what I had already learned and practiced eager to share and express. If I haven't learned it by the day of the concert, the extra 5 minutes of dress rehearsal are not likely to make a difference.
I also felt that a strong sense of "mistake avoidance" pervaded performing and evaluations of performances. When I had a piccolo solo, I was worried mainly about playing all the correct notes. When the trumpets messed up an entrance at contest, it was thereafter referred to as "the trumpet debacle" by the band. A holistic evaluation was often lacking from students, even if the adjudicators gave such comments.
I highly doubt that, regardless of what my own philosophy might ultimately be, I will be able to just walk away from contest in my actual position. However, I do agree with a lot of what Austin says: competition can be damaging and shape the beliefs of students in negative ways. However, I hope that I, by emphasis and example, can teach my students that music making is a process and that concerts are primarily about expression and sharing, not avoiding screw ups or being better than someone else.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Post 3/18
As I have been rehearsing the various bands at Case for which I am an assistant conductor, I have been improving in awareness of the sound and in technical problems. However, one area in which I have still not found much success is in getting the groups to play more musically in an organic way. I've even noticed this in some of the groups I participate in as an ensemble member. The choir is performing Mozart's Requiem Mass, and most of the "musicality" of the choir seems to come from being spoon fed extensive score markings of dynamics and articulation. To me, it sounds like just that in practice: a bunch of technically competent singers who are following very detailed directions. I miss the natural fluidity of the phrasing and the Latin language.
Great musicians are like great speakers: the constantly shift their tone, turn on a point, carefully phrase, and bring the most out of the words or notes, beyond even what the most extensive score markings can convey. It has a naturally fluidity and strong purpose to it.
Though I have limited time, I don't feel like I've been able to adequately bring this point to the musicians I have been conducting. Sure, you can say it as many times and as many ways as you want, but I don't think it is enough. And besides, there are too many other things to do. We have to fix rhythms, balance, notes, intonation etc. And our system of incentives backs this up. What is the worst thing you can do at an audition? Play a wrong rhythm, note, or be out of tune.
How can we teach students to strive for this natural and personal musicianship? It's really hard, even in private one on one instruction. Some people don't even think it is possible, that is what "musical talent" means and that you are born with it. I care a lot about this issue, and so I thought I might look at my own education and see if I might make some guesses as to why it became so important to me.
First, I had a strong musical background at a young age. I heard lots of music, had musicians in my family, got to go hear concerts by professionals, and had an unusually high amount of general music instruction in elementary school. I also had piano lessons when I was 6. This conforms to our discipline literature: a strong musical background at a young age bodes well for future musical success.
Second and perhaps more nebulously, I mostly had teachers who respected my individual personality as a musician, gave me a good deal of freedom, and made the effort to incorporate my personality as a musician into the instruction when they wanted me to change the things I was doing.
I've found in my education so far that we emphasize connecting with a student's personality in order to learn about how they learn and to make sure we reach them, but there is not as much emphasis on students' personalities as musicians.
I meet in my life today musicians with diverse musical personalities. I know musicians for whom music is primarily a competition in which the goal is to be better than everyone else, others for whom it is a craft to be polished and perfected, still others from whom it is a receivership of the will of transcendent geniuses from ages past. My own personality that I try to live up to is the idea that music is a journey of discovery about both the piece and myself, and that to succeed I must a compelling way to represent both with integrity.
We must be aware of these elements, for we help shape them. If we send our students to contests constantly, they may come to view music as a competition. If we give our students extensive lists of drills and repertory with no input from them, they may believe music is the perfection of this finite universe. If we promote a system of incentives that places the highest priority on technical details, regardless of what we might say in rehearsals, our students will place the highest priority on technical details. If we pay tribute at the feet of the aesthetic work, students may see themselves as recreators of this immutable work.
There isn't one "true" musical personality, and I still think I have a lot to learn about this in general. But I hope that eventually, but getting both myself and students in touch with their musical personalities, that my students can develop personal musicianship that expresses their selves with integrity and that they can bring to all the music they perform.
Great musicians are like great speakers: the constantly shift their tone, turn on a point, carefully phrase, and bring the most out of the words or notes, beyond even what the most extensive score markings can convey. It has a naturally fluidity and strong purpose to it.
Though I have limited time, I don't feel like I've been able to adequately bring this point to the musicians I have been conducting. Sure, you can say it as many times and as many ways as you want, but I don't think it is enough. And besides, there are too many other things to do. We have to fix rhythms, balance, notes, intonation etc. And our system of incentives backs this up. What is the worst thing you can do at an audition? Play a wrong rhythm, note, or be out of tune.
How can we teach students to strive for this natural and personal musicianship? It's really hard, even in private one on one instruction. Some people don't even think it is possible, that is what "musical talent" means and that you are born with it. I care a lot about this issue, and so I thought I might look at my own education and see if I might make some guesses as to why it became so important to me.
First, I had a strong musical background at a young age. I heard lots of music, had musicians in my family, got to go hear concerts by professionals, and had an unusually high amount of general music instruction in elementary school. I also had piano lessons when I was 6. This conforms to our discipline literature: a strong musical background at a young age bodes well for future musical success.
Second and perhaps more nebulously, I mostly had teachers who respected my individual personality as a musician, gave me a good deal of freedom, and made the effort to incorporate my personality as a musician into the instruction when they wanted me to change the things I was doing.
I've found in my education so far that we emphasize connecting with a student's personality in order to learn about how they learn and to make sure we reach them, but there is not as much emphasis on students' personalities as musicians.
I meet in my life today musicians with diverse musical personalities. I know musicians for whom music is primarily a competition in which the goal is to be better than everyone else, others for whom it is a craft to be polished and perfected, still others from whom it is a receivership of the will of transcendent geniuses from ages past. My own personality that I try to live up to is the idea that music is a journey of discovery about both the piece and myself, and that to succeed I must a compelling way to represent both with integrity.
We must be aware of these elements, for we help shape them. If we send our students to contests constantly, they may come to view music as a competition. If we give our students extensive lists of drills and repertory with no input from them, they may believe music is the perfection of this finite universe. If we promote a system of incentives that places the highest priority on technical details, regardless of what we might say in rehearsals, our students will place the highest priority on technical details. If we pay tribute at the feet of the aesthetic work, students may see themselves as recreators of this immutable work.
There isn't one "true" musical personality, and I still think I have a lot to learn about this in general. But I hope that eventually, but getting both myself and students in touch with their musical personalities, that my students can develop personal musicianship that expresses their selves with integrity and that they can bring to all the music they perform.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
First Day teaching in the School
After hearing the director speak about the many challenges facing the students in the school, especially from an economic perspective, and seeing some of the classes of the students, I was worried about my first teaching experience. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the enthusiasm and motivation of the students.
The students I taught were all very excited about trumpet and passionate about playing the songs correctly. There could be some chatter or goofing off, but most of the students really wanted to play, and they were eager to correct each other and figure out the correct rhythms. The lesson went smoothly overall, although there are ways in which I can improve. The students, however, were able to play the song as a group with mostly accurate pitch and rhythm.
Obviously I have an advantage due to being a new person in keeping student attention, but I was left wondering if there was more to be done to harness the student energy and excitement on a regular basis. It seems like the regular teacher uses a mostly static routine and tries to settle down the class when they get too rowdy. Might changing up the routine and trying to channel the energy into something positive be a worthwhile endeavor to attempt? The students love testing, where they play individually through a song. Could we find a way to incorporate this into the very necessary but more boring parts of the lesson?
The other Case student in the class with me did a great job commanding the attention of the class. I was impressed by the naturalness of his demeanor and the way in which he was able to fluidly move around the class and from activity to activity, things I need to improve in my own teaching. He also got some of the students excited with a great baseball analogy.
The students I taught were all very excited about trumpet and passionate about playing the songs correctly. There could be some chatter or goofing off, but most of the students really wanted to play, and they were eager to correct each other and figure out the correct rhythms. The lesson went smoothly overall, although there are ways in which I can improve. The students, however, were able to play the song as a group with mostly accurate pitch and rhythm.
Obviously I have an advantage due to being a new person in keeping student attention, but I was left wondering if there was more to be done to harness the student energy and excitement on a regular basis. It seems like the regular teacher uses a mostly static routine and tries to settle down the class when they get too rowdy. Might changing up the routine and trying to channel the energy into something positive be a worthwhile endeavor to attempt? The students love testing, where they play individually through a song. Could we find a way to incorporate this into the very necessary but more boring parts of the lesson?
The other Case student in the class with me did a great job commanding the attention of the class. I was impressed by the naturalness of his demeanor and the way in which he was able to fluidly move around the class and from activity to activity, things I need to improve in my own teaching. He also got some of the students excited with a great baseball analogy.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Post 2/18
After observing at a school and spending some time talking to area band directors this week, I have come to ask myself a question: Should the goal of instrumental music ensembles be to perform music at the highest level possible?
Traditionally, it seems the answer has been yes. I have only ever very rarely been at an ensemble rehearsal in which the entirety of teaching time was not spent rehearsing pieces. In some senses, this seems obvious. A quality ensemble is many things: recruiting tool, point of pride for a school, point of pride for students. However, from underneath all the piles of contest certificates, I sometimes wonder if we are asking ourselves if we are truly teaching our students to be independent musicians.
In my own experiences and in speaking with others, the emphasis in ensembles is always on technique, rhythm, balance, and intonation. These are important skills, but it was and still is rare that I am asked to corrected phrasing or expression when playing in a wind ensemble. From a young age, we teach our students that playing the right notes at the right time is paramount. The results are clear. Our bands are very good at this. But are our students truly musicians or merely experts at executing the band director's instructions?
In order to be a good ensemble musician, one first must at least have some ability to be an independent musician. How can we expect players to understand how their one part fits into the texture of the piece and adjust to play with sensitivity if we gloss over the basics such as how to shape a solo melodic line? Yet many high school players I have heard who can play some technically difficult material more or less lack this musical skill. Ultimately, a lot of band performances probably sound good because the director is able to break down the musical interpretation and teach students to execute these elements in isolation on their own parts. The students may not fully understand the significance of what they are doing.
Our teachers are largely good musicians. They could teach their students to be good musicians. I think the issues may be time and focus in many cases. One director I know said he spent 20% of his total time on rehearsing and 90% of that on technique, but expressed that he felt that he had no other choice because he was obligated to perform with the marching band every week and needed to provide a product. Many concert bands operate the same with regard to concerts and competitions. The whole class becomes oriented around this collective product.
My own experiences and the words of others have led me to think that I might want to consider running my own ensembles in a way that is oriented around the process rather than the product. I want to learn to not get so hung up with the tiny percentage of time my band spends on stage, but rather to use as much of my total time as possible to connect with students in significant way. It is more important that my students learn to be musical and independent than that the group gets a I in competition, and I owe it to students to find a way to teach this.
Traditionally, it seems the answer has been yes. I have only ever very rarely been at an ensemble rehearsal in which the entirety of teaching time was not spent rehearsing pieces. In some senses, this seems obvious. A quality ensemble is many things: recruiting tool, point of pride for a school, point of pride for students. However, from underneath all the piles of contest certificates, I sometimes wonder if we are asking ourselves if we are truly teaching our students to be independent musicians.
In my own experiences and in speaking with others, the emphasis in ensembles is always on technique, rhythm, balance, and intonation. These are important skills, but it was and still is rare that I am asked to corrected phrasing or expression when playing in a wind ensemble. From a young age, we teach our students that playing the right notes at the right time is paramount. The results are clear. Our bands are very good at this. But are our students truly musicians or merely experts at executing the band director's instructions?
In order to be a good ensemble musician, one first must at least have some ability to be an independent musician. How can we expect players to understand how their one part fits into the texture of the piece and adjust to play with sensitivity if we gloss over the basics such as how to shape a solo melodic line? Yet many high school players I have heard who can play some technically difficult material more or less lack this musical skill. Ultimately, a lot of band performances probably sound good because the director is able to break down the musical interpretation and teach students to execute these elements in isolation on their own parts. The students may not fully understand the significance of what they are doing.
Our teachers are largely good musicians. They could teach their students to be good musicians. I think the issues may be time and focus in many cases. One director I know said he spent 20% of his total time on rehearsing and 90% of that on technique, but expressed that he felt that he had no other choice because he was obligated to perform with the marching band every week and needed to provide a product. Many concert bands operate the same with regard to concerts and competitions. The whole class becomes oriented around this collective product.
My own experiences and the words of others have led me to think that I might want to consider running my own ensembles in a way that is oriented around the process rather than the product. I want to learn to not get so hung up with the tiny percentage of time my band spends on stage, but rather to use as much of my total time as possible to connect with students in significant way. It is more important that my students learn to be musical and independent than that the group gets a I in competition, and I owe it to students to find a way to teach this.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Post 2/11
One issue that we have been covering recently is that of sight vs. sound in teaching music, especially concerning beginners. The idea is that we handicap our musicians by forcing them to learn notation first and then sound. This leads to underdeveloped aural skills.
I certainly don't deny that our standard education has been too notation-centric. I know my own ability to translate my audiation into technique in the flute is severely lacking, probably in part because I never learned that way as a beginner. However, I have also experienced the multitude of frustrations that come from dealing with those who have amazing aural skills but lack the ability to function outside of what they hear. I have often found that while these musicians have a fantastic aural sense for melody and homophonic harmony, they often struggle with counterpoint and keeping rhythmic integrity in the context of counterpoint. And some of them never learned to read music, making it all the more difficult to explain to them how counterpoint fits together.
My conclusion is that we want our musicians to be, for lack of a better word, as ambidextrous as possible with regard to their senses. We want our musicians to have good ears, but also good eyes, an internal pulse, and a feel for what they are doing even when sonic or visual feedback is limited.
As a musician, I constantly find myself in situations where using my ear alone is not enough for musical success. In large ensembles such as concert bands or orchestras, I cannot hear my own playing well without overplaying to stick out of the texture, so I must know the feeling of playing with a good tone, even when I cannot fully hear to judge my tone. Likewise, I must be able to watch the conductor and separate this from what I hear if the conductor is trying to add rubato or change the tempo. And of course, for imitative entrances, a strong internal pulse is needed. As many a band director has said, if you wait to hear when you are supposed to enter, you will be late.
While music is ultimately an aural phenomenon, a musician needs to be able to use all his senses in pursuit of music-making, and when one or more are not fully available due to the circumstances, must be able to use those that are available. In the long term, if we want to educate complete and versatile musicians, we must keep this goal in mind.
I certainly don't deny that our standard education has been too notation-centric. I know my own ability to translate my audiation into technique in the flute is severely lacking, probably in part because I never learned that way as a beginner. However, I have also experienced the multitude of frustrations that come from dealing with those who have amazing aural skills but lack the ability to function outside of what they hear. I have often found that while these musicians have a fantastic aural sense for melody and homophonic harmony, they often struggle with counterpoint and keeping rhythmic integrity in the context of counterpoint. And some of them never learned to read music, making it all the more difficult to explain to them how counterpoint fits together.
My conclusion is that we want our musicians to be, for lack of a better word, as ambidextrous as possible with regard to their senses. We want our musicians to have good ears, but also good eyes, an internal pulse, and a feel for what they are doing even when sonic or visual feedback is limited.
As a musician, I constantly find myself in situations where using my ear alone is not enough for musical success. In large ensembles such as concert bands or orchestras, I cannot hear my own playing well without overplaying to stick out of the texture, so I must know the feeling of playing with a good tone, even when I cannot fully hear to judge my tone. Likewise, I must be able to watch the conductor and separate this from what I hear if the conductor is trying to add rubato or change the tempo. And of course, for imitative entrances, a strong internal pulse is needed. As many a band director has said, if you wait to hear when you are supposed to enter, you will be late.
While music is ultimately an aural phenomenon, a musician needs to be able to use all his senses in pursuit of music-making, and when one or more are not fully available due to the circumstances, must be able to use those that are available. In the long term, if we want to educate complete and versatile musicians, we must keep this goal in mind.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Post 2/4(late)
As I am beginning to think about method books for the review we will perform in this class, I can't help but think about another method book that I have been exposed to but which was not on the list of choices for review: Froseth's "The Individualized Instructor."
While the selling point of the books seem to be billed as the "individualized" exercises in which students can choose to play simplified accompaniments for songs that are too difficult, I was impressed by the presentation of information. Unlike many other method books, songs are immediately presented to students as they know them. This means that "Hot Cross Buns" uses quarters and eighths rather than whole and half notes. This is both more interesting and attainable for the students. Students can use their prior knowledge to learn the music theory rather than be restrained by it while playing "March of the Whole Notes" on two notes.
Additionally, lots of information is presented, but in a concise manner and in relation to the songs. Songs include graphic and standard descriptions of key, tonality, and meter, making it easy for the instructor to work these in to songs the students are playing rather than "Accent on Theory" or special sections in other books. The books also include rounds, instructions to learn a song one knows by ear, and duets very quickly in order to facilitate playing without music and ensemble skills.
Thinking back on my own experience as a beginning student, I wanted to get the instrument in my hand and play songs. I was willing to practice extra and do things like figure out the endings to incomplete songs in the books on my own so I could have that experience. While obviously learning to count whole notes and rests is important, it wasn't what I was excited about. The "Individualized Instructor" books tap into this and use students' interest in playing songs to structure the information they need to learn as beginning instrumentalists.
While the selling point of the books seem to be billed as the "individualized" exercises in which students can choose to play simplified accompaniments for songs that are too difficult, I was impressed by the presentation of information. Unlike many other method books, songs are immediately presented to students as they know them. This means that "Hot Cross Buns" uses quarters and eighths rather than whole and half notes. This is both more interesting and attainable for the students. Students can use their prior knowledge to learn the music theory rather than be restrained by it while playing "March of the Whole Notes" on two notes.
Additionally, lots of information is presented, but in a concise manner and in relation to the songs. Songs include graphic and standard descriptions of key, tonality, and meter, making it easy for the instructor to work these in to songs the students are playing rather than "Accent on Theory" or special sections in other books. The books also include rounds, instructions to learn a song one knows by ear, and duets very quickly in order to facilitate playing without music and ensemble skills.
Thinking back on my own experience as a beginning student, I wanted to get the instrument in my hand and play songs. I was willing to practice extra and do things like figure out the endings to incomplete songs in the books on my own so I could have that experience. While obviously learning to count whole notes and rests is important, it wasn't what I was excited about. The "Individualized Instructor" books tap into this and use students' interest in playing songs to structure the information they need to learn as beginning instrumentalists.
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