Documente Academic
Documente Profesional
Documente Cultură
Investigations in Higher
Education Learning
SEMPRE Studies in
the Psychology of Music
Series Editors
Graham Welch, Institute of Education, University of London, UK
Adam Ockelford, Roehampton University, UK
Ian Cross, University of Cambridge, UK
The theme for the series is the psychology of music, broadly defined. Topics
will include: (i) musical development at different ages, (ii) exceptional musical
development in the context of special educational needs, (iii) musical cognition
and context, (iv) culture, mind and music, (v) micro to macro perspectives on
the impact of music on the individual (such as from neurological studies through
to social psychology), (vi) the development of advanced performance skills and
(vii) affective perspectives on musical learning. The series will present the
implications of research findings for a wide readership, including user-groups
(music teachers, policy makers, parents), as well as the international academic
and research communities. The distinguishing features of the series will be this
broad focus (drawing on basic and applied research from across the globe) under
the umbrella of SEMPRE’s distinctive mission, which is to promote and ensure
coherent and symbiotic links between education, music and psychology research.
I Drum, Therefore I Am
Being and Becoming a Drummer
Gareth Dylan Smith
Ioulia Papageorgi
University of Nicosia, Cyprus
and
Graham Welch
University of London, UK
© Ioulia Papageorgi, Graham Welch and contributors 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher.
Ioulia Papageorgi and Graham Welch have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the editors of this work.
Published by
Ashgate Publishing Limited Ashgate Publishing Company
Wey Court East 110 Cherry Street
Union Road Suite 3-1
Farnham Burlington, VT 05401-3818
Surrey, GU9 7PT USA
England
www.ashgate.com
We also dedicate this book to their teachers, as well as all those others
who are involved in supporting musicians’ development across many
years…
To Antonis,
and to my parents Petros and Xenia
List of Figures ix
List of Tables xiii
Notes on Contributors xv
Foreword xxiii
Preface xxv
Series Editor’s Preface xxxi
12 Spaces of Learning and the Place of the Conservatoire in Scottish Music 187
Frances Morton
Index 365
list of figures
6.3 the four extensional factors that shape the transition of folk music education 82
7.2 the composition of the perceived identity of ideal instrumental teachers 107
13.4 Age of commencement of training (ACTs) for AP and Non-AP musicians 214
17.1 number of participants from each group, with mean age and standard
deviation (in years) in brackets 290
21.2 skills found to facilitate smooth transition into professional music careers –
profile of interviewees 357
This page has been left blank intentionally
notes on contributors
Terry Clark is a research fellow at trinity laban conservatoire of Music and dance,
uK, where he is researching musicians’ and dancers’ health. He completed a master’s
degree in music performance in canada prior to undertaking doctoral studies in performance
science at the royal college of Music, london. His research interests include the role
of mental skills in musicians’ learning and performance preparation activities, and health
promotion and injury prevention for musicians and dancers.
Andrea Creech is a reader at the institute of education, university of london and has
extensive experience as a professional musician, music teacher and researcher. she has held
principal positions in orchestras in the uK and canada and subsequently was founder and
director of a community Music school in the republic of ireland. Her Phd research was
concerned with the impact on learning outcomes of interpersonal interaction amongst violin
students, their parents and teachers. Andrea has worked on research teams for a number of
funded projects including investigating Music Performance (esrc/tlrP), evaluation of
continuous Professional development (cPd) for Music leaders (Youth Music), evaluation
of Behaviour improvement Programme (dfes), evaluation of voices foundation Primer
(dfes), national survey of Music services 2005 (dfes), evaluation of skill force in Kent
schools (dfes), investigating the Phd student experience (ioe) and a collaborative project
on motivation, aspirations and self-perceptions in the conservatoire with an international
research group. she was project manager for the eMi Music sound foundation primary
music training project, a literature review of research concerned with Parental Aspirations
of teenage Mothers for the cfBt education trust and the national survey of Music
services 2007 (dfes). Her special research interests are musical development across the
lifespan and the impact of interpersonal relationships on learning and teaching outcomes.
Andrea has presented her work at international conferences and published widely.
Christophe de Bézenac is a musician, researcher and lecturer based in the uK. A graduate of
the strasbourg conservatoire, he completed a Phd at the university of leeds which examined
improvisation and perceptual ambiguity in music making from an ecological perspective. He
was a research officer for the Investigating Musical Performance (IMP) project, exploring
how musicians from different genres deepen and develop their learning about music
making. His research interests also include perceptual psychology, cognitive neuroscience,
ethnomusicology, and human-computer interaction. As an improviser/composer, christophe
is actively involved in the european experimental jazz/rock scene, where he performs at
international festivals and music venues alongside artists from diverse artistic backgrounds.
she also has an interest in disability studies, particularly in research on artistic inclusion in
music. Peggy was formerly ethnomusicology editor for The New Grove Dictionary of Music
and Musicians (2nd ed.), and joint Course Leader for RSAMD’s BA (Scottish Music). She
has performed as a dance fiddler throughout Scotland and New England. She was awarded
a Fulbright Scholarship for research for her PhD thesis ‘Fiddle Tunes on Air: A Study of
Gatekeeping and Traditional Music at the BBC in Scotland, 1923–1957’ (University of
California Berkeley, 2000).
Celia Duffy is Director of Academic Development at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music
and Drama. Career experience ranges from lecturing in music at Goldsmiths, University
of London to commercial software design and project management and new applications
of C&IT in higher education. As Head of Research she founded the National Centre
for Research in the Performing Arts, and led the team responsible for development and
management of research, consultancy and knowledge transfer activities. Celia’s research
interests are in performing arts education, the use of digital technology and knowledge
exchange in the arts. A partner in the Capitalising on Creativity Initiative, she is interested
in the interactions between the creative industries and specialist education providers.
She was a co-investigator in the ESRC-funded research project Investigating Musical
Performance led by Professor Graham Welch of the Institute of Education. Her roles as
director of HOTBED, a Scottish music digital education initiative and co-investigator in the
EU-funded EASAIER project reflect research interests in utilisation of new technology in
learning and teaching in the performing arts. Celia sits on a number of national steering and
consultative groups. She is an invited member of the Scottish Funding Council’s Research
and Knowledge Transfer Committee and a former panel member of the AHRC for Music
and the Performing Arts. Celia currently leads the Academy’s Curriculum Reform, an
ambitious project aiming to re-define the contemporary conservatoire learning experience.
Elizabeth Haddon is a Research Fellow in Music at the University of York, where she
also teaches piano. From 2006–2008 she was part of the ESRC-funded research project
Investigating Musical Performance. Her interest in diverse musical areas led to her book
on British musicians: Making Music in Britain: Interviews with those behind the notes
(Ashgate, 2006). She has given papers at international conferences and her research is
published in international peer-reviewed journals. She also works with the tenor John Potter
on projects relating to the singer/pianist partnership and explores performance-related
projects and aspects of instrumental and vocal teaching and learning.
Notes on Contributors xvii
Tania Lisboa joined the Royal College of Music in September 2001 as a Research
Associate and was appointed Research Fellow in Performance Science in 2008. Following
her MA in performance studies at City University London, her doctoral research at Sheffield
University employed longitudinal studies with young cellists to investigate the relationship
between musical understanding and a multi-modal approach to teaching and learning.
xviii Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Her current research focuses on the investigation of musical movement and practice
strategies. Since 2003, Tania has managed the RCM’s videoconferencing programme.
Recent activities in this area include links with international conservatoires and universities
in the US, Europe and Asia. In parallel with her academic research, Tania pursues an active
career as a solo cellist. A native of Brazil, where she also trained as a pianist, her concert
engagements encompass Europe, Asia, and North and South America. In addition to the
standard repertoire, she has recorded the complete works for cello and piano by C Guarnieri
and by H. Villa-Lobos for Meridian Records, the latter in three volumes.
Frances Morton graduated with a PhD in Geography from the University of Bristol
in 2005, for research into spaces of performance of traditional music. Her BA (Hons)
in 2000 won the Royal Geographical Society-Institute of British Geographers UK
undergraduate dissertation prize, which led her to gain a Masters in Research in 2001.
Frances previously worked as a postdoctoral fellow at Dundalk Institute of Technology
in the area of globalisation of traditional music. She was Acting Head of Scottish Music
in 2007–2008 at RSAMD and Research Officer at the RSAMD from 2005–2007 on the
ESRC-funded research project Investigating Musical Performance. She has also lectured in
Human Geography at Glasgow Caledonian University. Frances has presented her research
at international conferences and published in internationally peer-reviewed journals, and
is a reviewer for four major international geographical journals. She was commissioned
to write several articles for the International Encyclopaedia of Human Geography (2008),
and in her role as traditional musician and specialist, she was invited to contribute articles
to The Companion to Irish Traditional Music (2010) and the Encyclopaedia of Music in
Ireland (forthcoming). Currently, Frances works with the Quality Assurance Agency
for Higher Education, where she manages a portfolio of development and enhancement
projects relating to learning, teaching and research in higher education. Frances currently
sits on many steering groups and networks, including the Bologna Stakeholders Group,
International Benchmarking Working Group, Northern Ireland HE Steering Groups and the
Strategy and Policy Group for QAA Scotland. Her current role requires working closely
Notes on Contributors xix
Ioulia Papageorgi is the Director of the University of Nicosia Teaching and Learning
Institute (UNTLI) and an Assistant Professor in the Department of Social Sciences at
the University of Nicosia. She is a Fellow of the Higher Education Academy (FHEA)
and a Chartered Psychologist (CPsychol), as well as an Associate Fellow of the British
Psychological Society (AFBPsS). She previously held the position of Lecturer and
Coordinating Research Officer in the Department of Psychology and Human Development
and the Department of Arts and Humanities at the Institute of Education, University of
London, and of Associate Lecturer at the Open University (UK). Ioulia has presented her
work in many international conferences and seminars and has several publications in a
number of peer-reviewed journals and books.
John Potter is a singer and writer. He was for many years a member of the Hilliard
Ensemble and currently maintains a portfolio of freelance projects including Red Byrd,
the Gavin Bryars Ensemble and the Dowland Project, as well as collaborations with
a number of instrumentalists and performance artists. He records for ECM and has an
eclectic discography of some 150 titles which include five gold discs and several Grammy
nominations. He is the author of Vocal Authority (Cambridge UP, 1998) and Tenor: History
of a voice (Yale UP, 2009); he edited The Cambridge Companion to Singing (Cambridge
UP, 2000) and has contributed to several Cambridge Histories. He is an artistic advisor to
the Tampere Festival (Finland).
Simon Rose’s teaching has been of music and drama, mainly in London secondary
schools, working with young people with special educational needs as well as those who
have been excluded from mainstream education. Rose performs on saxophone regularly
in Europe and North America. In 2008 he completed an MA (Professional Practice) at
Middlesex University and is currently working towards a PhD (improvisation/education)
through Glasgow Caledonian University. Research has included ‘Articulating perspectives
of improvisation for education’ (Middlesex 2007) and ‘Uses of digital video for teaching
drama and music in a pupil referral unit’ (2003/4 Best Practice Research Scholarship
DfES). Presentations since 2007 have been at North Western University and University
xx Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
of Denver, US; Guelph, McGill Universities and Banff Centre, Canada; and the Royal
Northern College of Music, UK.
Desmond Sergeant studied voice, piano and conducting at Royal College of Music, London,
and at Guildhall School of Music and Drama. He gained a doctorate from University of
Reading in 1969, and has worked in the field of higher education since 1961, teaching in
Universities in England and the US. He has published widely in fields of voice research and
music cognition, and has special interests in childhood development of musical abilities. His
publications have appeared in many languages. He was the founding editor of the international
research journal Psychology of Music. In 1987, he was nominated Distinguished Foreign
Scholar by the Mid-America University Association. In 2005, he was recipient of a Lifetime
Achievement Award by the Society for Education, Music and Psychology Research. He is
currently a Visiting Fellow at the Institute of Education, University of London.
Gareth Dylan Smith earned his doctorate from the Institute of Education in London, where
he completed a study into the identity and learning of kit drummers which has since been
published by Ashgate: I Drum, Therefore I Am (2013). One of his earlier publications (Smith
& Durrant, 2006) was a case study of two student drummers and their respective learning
styles. Gareth sits on the organizing committee of the ISME Forum on Instrumental and
Vocal Teaching. Gareth also chairs the UK Musician’s Union Teachers’ Committee. His
research interests include identity, curriculum, learning, popular music, and sociology
of music education. Gareth is Programme Leader for Further Education at the London’s
Institute of Contemporary Music Performance (ICMP), and also lectures and teaches
drums there on the BMus Popular Music Performance degree course. Gareth is an active
performer, playing drums in musical theatre productions on London’s fringe and college
theatre circuits. He plays function gigs around the capital, and plays with original artists
Tinker Tailor Solder Rock, Stephen Wheel, Gillian Glover, and the Eruptors.
Rachel Swindells holds MA and PhD degrees in Ethnomusicology from City University,
London, and a Postgraduate Diploma in Psychoanalytic Observational Studies from the
University of Leeds. A performer of Sudanese music, she has taught at higher education
institutions across the UK and currently runs gamelan and community music projects in
the north of England. She is also an independent researcher and arts project evaluator, with
particular interests in the Indonesian performing arts, applied ethnomusicology, music and
mental health, and cross-cultural approaches to learning and creativity.
Maria Vraka is a music educator and researcher. She completed her PhD on a full
scholarship from the Greek Institute of Scholarships (IKY), at the Institute of Education,
University of London. She holds a BA in Musicology from the Department of Musical
Studies, School of Philosophy, University of Athens and an MA in Music Education from
Middlesex University. She has presented at international conferences and seminars and
has published her work in international peer-reviewed journals. Maria’s thesis investigated
the influence of culture on the development of absolute pitch (AP) and was the first one
to explore the incidence of the ability within the population of Greek musicians. She has
worked as part of a research team on several funded projects. Her main interests lie in
the fields of Psychoacoustics and Music Education. Maria has extensive experience as a
primary school teacher and pianist. Additionally she has composed music for the theatre
and for a number of children’s plays.
Alan H. D. Watson took a BS degree in Zoology from Edinburgh University and a PhD from
the University of St. Andrews before carrying out postdoctoral research in neuroscience at
Cambridge University, where he held a Beit Memorial Fellowship for Medical Research. For
the last twenty years he has taught human anatomy and neuroscience at Cardiff University’s
School of Biosciences where he is a senior lecturer. Combining a lifelong interest in musical
performance with his professional life, he developed a variety of courses for musicians on
the physical nature of performance and the origin and treatment of the injuries that are
associated with it. One of these currently runs at the Royal Welsh College of Music and
Drama where he collaborates with Kevin Price (head of brass performance) on studies of
respiration in wind players and singers. This work, which involves students in analysing
how they use their bodies in performance, has received support from a Wellcome Trust
People Award. He has lectured extensively at venues such as the DANA centre, Wellcome
Collection, BAPAM, and at a wide variety of other events including the Menuhin Violin
Competition. He has recently published a book titled The Biology of Musical Performance
and Performance-related Injury (Scarecrow Press, 2009).
Graham Welch holds the Institute of Education, University of London Established Chair
of Music Education. He is elected Chair of the internationally based Society for Education,
Music and Psychology Research (SEMPRE), Immediate Past President of the International
Society for Music Education (ISME) and past Co-Chair of the Research Commission of
ISME. Current Visiting Professorships include the Universities of Queensland (Australia),
Limerick (Eire) and UEL (UK). He is also a member of the UK Arts and Humanities
Research Council’s (AHRC) Review College for music and has been a specialist consultant
for Government departments and agencies in the UK, Italy, Sweden, USA, Ukraine, UAE,
South Africa and Argentina. Publications number over three hundred and embrace musical
development and music education, teacher education, the psychology of music, singing and
voice science, and music in special education and disability. Publications are in English,
Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Swedish, Greek, Japanese and Chinese.
Tony Whyton is a researcher and musicologist whose work deals specifically with music
and its place within the creative industries, from the packaging of popular music to the
iconic representations of jazz artists. As the founding editor of the international journal The
Source: challenging jazz criticism, Tony created the first peer-reviewed interdisciplinary
journal for jazz studies and now co-edits the internationally peer-reviewed Jazz Research
Journal with Equinox publishing. His first book, Jazz Icons: Heroes, Myths and the Jazz
xxii Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Tradition, was published by Cambridge University Press in 2010 and his second book,
Beyond A Love Supreme, was a cross disciplinary study of the musical and cultural
influence of John Coltrane’s seminal album, published by Oxford University Press in 2012.
Tony is Project Leader for the €1 million European research programme Rhythm Changes:
Jazz Cultures and European Identities, leading a cross-disciplinary team of 13 researchers
working across five countries over three years. This ground-breaking project, the first and
largest of its kind for jazz in Europe, has been funded as part of the Humanities in the
European Research Area’s (HERA) theme ‘Cultural Dynamics: Inheritance and Identity’,
to examine the inherited traditions and practices of European jazz cultures, the way in
which music feeds into national identities and what forms of hybridization occur in different
contexts. Tony is Professor in Music at the University of Salford.
Yang Yang graduated from Northwest Normal University with a BA in Western Classical
singing in 2002. Having his first book published in China (Professional Vocal Training:
A Pedagogical Perspective, 2005, 2nd author); he completed a master’s degree in Vocal
Music Performance and Education at Capital Normal University in 2008. The same year,
he started his doctoral studies with Professor Graham Welch in the Institute of Education,
University of London. From a pedagogical perspective, his research investigated the most
recent developments of China’s national education reform, in which inherent pedagogical
challenges of folk song teaching have emerged from China’s Higher Institutes. Implications
were drawn for the enrichment of music education in Chinese universities by providing
research-based insights into indigenous folk song and performance and suggestions for
related pedagogical strategies, which are believed to be essential to all professional music
participants. He is currently a Lecturer at the College of Music, Shaanxi Normal University,
P.R. China.
foreword
Musical performance is both an art and a science, and the importance of contributing to our
understanding of this and to supporting the evolution of practice cannot be underestimated.
Increasingly musicians across the world are finding themselves developing their artistic
voice whilst at the same time reaching for ever higher technical standards and navigating
a rapidly-changing and complex professional landscape. the opportunities and challenges
are equally huge. In this context, the kind of research and reflection on experience contained
in this book provides essential material to underpin lifelong development. the insights will
be invaluable to all those involved in music education, music psychology and performance
science, and indeed to performing musicians at almost any stage of their career.
the editors have brought together an unusual set of perspectives that are particularly
compelling and thought provoking in the consideration they give to performance across
diverse musical genres and cultures. the collection is also extremely helpful in combining
chapters more focused on theoretical concepts and their relevance across stages of musical
development with chapters charting particular musical biographies and the significance
of individual journeys. there is a great deal of meticulous research and forward thinking
gathered in the volume. i am delighted to see the book published and commend it to all
those involved with advanced musical performance.
the genesis for this edited collection was a major empirical research study into higher
education teaching and learning in music that formed part of the uK’s economic and
social research council’s teaching and learning research Programme (tlrP) from 2006
to 2008. the investigating Musical Performance (iMP): comparative studies in Advanced
Musical learning research project was focused on how musicians within four different
musical genres (Western classical, jazz, scottish traditional and popular) deepened and
developed their learning about performance at undergraduate, postgraduate and wider music
community contexts across the working lifespan (for example, see Papageorgi & Welch,
chapter 11 this volume).1 seven other members of the original multi-site, multi-genre iMP
research team (Whyton, duffy, creech, de Bézenac, Haddon, Potter, Morton) also make
important contributions to this book by authoring chapters that reflect their related areas of
research interest and expertise.
In addition, when we were reflecting on the overall design of this volume and its possible
contribution and usefulness to the field, it was very clear that the content would be enriched
and extended by embracing research that went beyond the original iMP remit, and which
could offer complementary insights. consequently, the overall narrative includes eleven
invited chapters by international colleagues that deepen and extend our understanding of
what is involved in advanced musical performance.
the contents of the book fall into four broad parts, each focusing on one aspect of music
performance and learning:
The first part (Chapters 1–6) outlines, from a teaching and learning perspective, the nature
and positioning of a variety of musical genres (Western classical, jazz, popular, scottish,
greek and chinese traditional) that are found within current higher education contexts.
The second part (Chapters 7–10) moves on to consider the musical journeys that
performers undertake during their development and discusses issues such as the influence of
musical ideals, enjoyment, creativity and learning outside the music studio. Also included
are the extraordinary musical journeys of highly skilled children and young adults with
special needs.
The third part (Chapters 11–17) focuses on more specific, including practical, aspects of
performance learning. Chapters in this part include an exploration of the influence of spaces
of learning, hidden aspects of learning and the value of free improvisation in learning.
The part also has a chapter discussing the influence of specialized abilities, such as the
1
the multi-site, multi-genre iMP study (http://www.tlrp.org/proj/Welch.html) complemented
the esrc tlrP ‘learning to Perform’ project that was based at the royal college of Music and led
by dr Janet Mills and rosie Burt (see http://www.tlrp.org/proj/phase111/l2P.htm).
xxvi Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Two others examples of advanced musical performance behaviours and learning outside
the Western classical music tradition are reported in the final chapters of this opening part.
Both reveal rich complexities in traditional folk performance practices that illustrate the
diversity that exists globally, whilst also challenging our conceptions of what it means to be
musically educated as a performer.
In the first of these two chapters (Chapter 5), Tsahouridis reports on his research into
Epirotic folk vocal polyphony in contemporary Greece. He narrates how the development
of this form of collective traditional vocal music making has been strongly influenced by
the requirements of ensemble performance. Each singer has a key role to play to ensure
that there is an expert collective sound in which no individual voice dominates. For many
readers, the narrative introduces us to a novel, contextualised set of musical performance
practices and provides insights into the inherent challenges of learning to perform this
music in the context of higher education.
Similarly, Yang’s chapter in this part (Chapter 6) provides a detailed case study of
advanced performance learning related to an example folk music in China. He highlights the
cultural contrasts in pedagogical approaches to performance learning between HE and the
folk community and suggests – in common with the four preceding chapters in this opening
part concerning musics outside the Western classical music tradition – that learning to be
an expert performer is often not well matched to the established HE pedagogical practice
culture. For example, although the folk ‘masters’ will have high status as a performer,
they are likely to be without any academic background in the formal study of the music.
Conversely, the university/college tutor will normally be well qualified academically in
the study of music, but may be less expert in the subtleties of authentic folk performance.
Arguably, this tension is inherent in a Chinese higher education system that has been
strongly influenced by Western cultural practices in music since the nineteenth century.
In Part 2, the underlying theme is centred on understanding how ‘Musical Journeys’
have an impact on the development of musical expertise in performance. The part opens
with Creech and Papageorgi’s chapter on the perceived characteristics of ‘ideal’ musicians
and teachers, as articulated by undergraduate music students and professional musicians
(Chapter 7). The authors unpack the importance of understanding how ideals are interwoven
into students’ perceptions, both of themselves and their teachers, and explore how such self-
imaging can determine the nature of subsequent success.
In Chapter 8, Swindells and de Bézenac explore an associated aspect of performer
development that concerns the relationship between motivation and the acquisition of
performance competence (see also Chapter 20 concerning the importance of motivation).
They suggest that there is likely to be a bias towards intrinsic rather than extrinsic
motivation in the collectivity of practice that characterises other-than-classical musics,
such as jazz and popular genres, with their cultural emphasis on self-directed and situated
learning. If so, then it becomes important for HE to ensure that its teaching and learning
approaches are sensitive to genre-related performance learning outside the classroom/
studio, as illustrated in the earlier chapters on jazz, popular and Scottish traditional musics
(and see also Chapter 12).
Chapter 9 by Haddon and Potter focuses on another key issue in HE music performance
curricula, namely that concerning ‘creativity’. Although it can be argued that making music is
a creative act, in that there is always a unique human element within a musical performance,
there are differences evident between genres in their emphasis on creativity and also in the
ways that HE institutions respond to such differences. The authors apply various theoretical
constructs from a wider literature review to suggest that the customary culture of HE
xxviii Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
curriculum design, with its emphasis on formal assessment, can be limiting when applied
to the nurturing of creativity in music learning, such as in enabling students to challenge
contemporary performance practices and to become more teacher-independent. Haddon and
Potter suggest that HE music courses need to review how they teach for creativity in order to
foster critically informed, yet independent lifelong performance learning and musicianship.
In the final chapter in this part (Chapter 10), Ockelford extends our perspective on
performance learning by focusing on children and adolescents in special education. These
young performers have a diversity of needs, but often share a strong lifelong interest
in music, with an unusually high proportion exhibiting absolute pitch ability (see also
Chapter 13 in this volume). Ockelford provides a strong theoretical underpinning for his
illustrations of example musical journeys of performers who are autistic and/or have visual
disability. In so doing, he also raises questions of how we define and recognise advanced
musicality and how this can be nurtured, even in what appears to be the most challenging
of personal circumstances.
Part 3 is concerned with illustrating particular social and musical aspects of ‘Performance
Learning’. The part opens with Papageorgi and Welch’s overview (Chapter 11) of the main
findings on performance learning from the Investigating Musical Performance (IMP)
project, which, as mentioned earlier, was the initial impetus for this edited book. The
authors note that particularly significant impacts on performance learning and expertise
development relate to different kinds of group membership, such as genre, gender and
professional status, with the implication that HE courses could be more effective if they
were sensitive to the potential benefits of adopting a multi-genre approach.
The significance of contextual learning is illustrated in Chapter 12, where Morton
reports on the ways that ‘spaces’ within the conservatoire in Glasgow (conceived as
literal, pedagogical, informal spaces) were experienced by students on the (then) newly
initiated Scottish music courses. The chapter complements the earlier narrative by Duffy
and Duesenberry (Chapter 4) by providing examples of the importance of learning spaces
in the development and definition of student’s performance identities and practices. Being
new to the conservatoire, the Scottish music students found that they needed to explore
and negotiate how best to use the literal spaces on offer. In addition, the conservatoire’s
customary pedagogical landscape was challenged by the expectations of students who were
already steeped in the Scottish folk tradition and its ways of learning.
Chapter 13 by Sergeant and Vraka focuses on the aetiology of one of the enduring
signifiers of advanced musical ability, namely ‘absolute pitch’ (AP). Their extensive and
insightful review of related literatures reveals that, despite its common usage by musicians
and others, AP behaviour is relatively ill-defined. It is also socio-culturally located, both
in terms of its description within a particular cultural setting and also in its development.
Early experience, musically motivated parents, persistent and focused practice and cultural
prioritisation are just some of the variables that have been shown to have an impact on AP
development and its longevity for the individual musician.
In the next chapter (Chapter 14), Rose and MacDonald report on the significance of
improvisation in music education, drawing on their experiences of working with young
musicians in special education-related settings. The ability to create music in real time
(known as ‘free improvisation’) is seen as widely practised across musical genres, but
relatively poorly understood and addressed in education. The authors review recent
developments and their antecedents, and also report on key findings from research to
make the case for the value of improvisation as a core educational process in developing
musicianship (see also Chapter 9 on the importance of creativity).
Preface xxix
The next chapter in this third part (Chapter 14) explores undergraduate music education
in a university setting. Haddon reminds us of how students’ learning frequently occurs in
situations outside the formal studio-based lesson and that are likely to be ‘hidden’ from
their instrumental teachers. As part of the evidence base, she documents music student
perceptions and aspirations to identify a possible disjunction between institutional and
individual goals and how such a divergence might be addressed.
In Chapter 16, Lã focuses on the specific challenges in learning to be a professional
singer. She discusses the need to ensure that both HE and studio-based vocal pedagogy
are informed by the latest interdisciplinary research data on voice function and on how
to build a solid vocal technique. She encourages the use of new technological tools to
support teaching and learning, not least because this particular musical instrument (the
singing voice) is not visible, whilst also being used habitually in everyday activities for
non-musical purposes. Lã provides a comprehensive illustration of the concerns raised in
the previous chapter by detailing key threats to the singer’s physical and mental well-being.
The chapter’s main strands are then woven together to form the basis for an innovative
HE curricula design that addresses more coherently the multi-faceted demands on the
vocal performer.
The final chapter of this part (Chapter 17) by Clark, Lisboa and Williamon broadens
the focus within this final part to embrace key generic features of effective learning across
instrumental groups in relation to levels of existing expertise. Although both expert and less
expert musicians share an understanding of the musical, non-musical and psychological skills
required for public performance, actual instrumental practice behaviours are often shaped
by current levels of expertise. Experienced performers tend to be more able to keep in mind
the ‘big picture’ of the target performance, whilst less experienced performers are more
likely to be concerned with the selected music’s inherent technical demands. Similarities
and differences are also evidenced – related to levels of current expertise – in these two
groups’ conceptualisation of the musical, non-musical and psychological skills required for
public performance. They also differ in their performance preparations in the days leading
up to a performance, on the day itself and in their reflective responses afterwards.
The fourth and final part of the book concerns ‘Developing expertise and
professionalism’. The part opens with Papageorgi’s chapter (Chapter 18) on how musical
expertise as a performer is developed and sustained over the career span. Sometimes
development is hindered by negative elements of self-esteem and self-efficacy, such as a
mismatch occurring between an individual’s perceptions of ‘ideal’ and ‘self’ in terms of
skills and current expertise. In addition, musical genre and gender also constitute important
variables in the shaping of a performer’s development, being also related to the experience
of performance anxiety and its severity. Papageorgi argues that HE courses need to be
designed more explicitly to address the psychological as well as the technical demands of
performance (a point reinforced in different ways by the authors of Chapters 17, 18 and 20).
In the next chapter (Chapter 19), Farruque and Watson draw on evidence from the
emerging field of music and medicine to signal the career importance of musicians’ health
and well-being. The authors rehearse the need for HE course design to provide structured
opportunities for students to engage formally with occupational health issues, both physical
and psychological. They report that the incidence of performance-related trauma amongst
musicians is regarded as being too high and, consequently, provide evidence-based advice
on raising awareness through appropriate HE course design and content. The inclusion
of sessions on anatomy, physiology and common ailments should be a natural outcome
xxx Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Graham Welch
and
Ioulia Papageorgi
series editor’s Preface
the enormous growth of research that has been evidenced over the past three decades
into the many different phenomena that are embraced under the psychology of music
‘umbrella’ continues, with new journals, books, media interest, an expansion of professional
associations (regionally as well as nationally) and increasing and diverse opportunities for
formal study, and not just in english-speaking countries. such interest is not only from
psychologists and musicians, but also from colleagues working in the clinical sciences,
neurosciences, therapies, lifelong health and well-being, philosophy, musicology, social
psychology, ethnomusicology and education across the lifespan. the society for education,
Music and Psychology research (seMPre) recently celebrated its 40th Anniversary
(2012) as one of the world’s leading and longstanding professional associations in the field.
seMPre continues to be the only international society that embraces an interest in the
psychology of music, research and education, seeking to promote knowledge at the interface
between the social sciences of psychology and education with one of the world’s most
pervasive art forms, music. seMPre was founded in 1972 and has published the journals
Psychology of Music since 1973 and research studies in Music education since 2008, both
now produced in partnership with sAge (see www.sempre.org.uk). nevertheless, there is
an ongoing need to promote the latest research findings to the widest possible audience
through more extended publication formats, especially books, if we are to fulfil our mission
of having a distinctive and positive impact on policy and practice internationally, within
and across our disciplinary boundaries. Hence the emergence of the strong collaborative
partnership between seMPre and Ashgate.
the Ashgate ‘seMPre studies in the Psychology of Music’ has been designed to
address this international need since its inception in 2007. the theme for the series is
the psychology of music, broadly defined. Topics include (amongst others): musical
development and learning at different ages; musical cognition and context; culture, mind
and music; creativity, composition, and collaboration; micro to macro perspectives on the
impact of music on the individual (such as from neurological studies through to social
psychology); the development of advanced performance skills; musical behaviour and
development in the context of special educational needs; and affective perspectives on
musical learning. The series seeks to present the implications of research findings for a wide
readership, including user-groups (music teachers, policy makers, parents and carers), as
well as the international academic teaching and research communities. A key distinguishing
feature of the series is its broad focus that draws on basic and applied research from across
the globe under the umbrella of seMPre’s distinctive mission, which is to promote and
ensure coherent and symbiotic links between education, music and psychology research.
it is with particular pleasure that we include this text on ‘Advanced Musical
Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning’ in the SEMPRE series. The text
brings together a wide variety of perspectives on the nature of musical learning required
for advanced performance, and also of the constraints and supportive conditions that have
an impact on development, including personal, musical or institutional. the book draws on
different musical genres to illustrate key aspects of higher education-based instrumental
learning and of how the development of performance expertise is both specific and generic
xxxii Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
in nature. The authors collectively represent relatively new and established researchers,
often working collaboratively to provide a more nuanced and composite understanding of
their specific focus area. We believe that the volume represents a welcome addition to our
understanding of performance learning. This edited book extends and deepens our existing
SEMPRE series publications on the theme of adult musical learning and teaching (see other
volumes in the series by Stakelum, 2013; McCaleb, 2014; Dylan Smith, 2013; Gaunt and
Westerlund, 2013; Burwell, 2012).
Graham Welch
Institute of Education, University of London, UK
Adam Ockelford
Roehampton University, UK
Ian Cross
University of Cambridge, UK
PArt i
Musics in Higher
education and Beyond
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 1
Western classical Music studies in universities
and conservatoires
Harald Jørgensen
there are more than 1,000 higher music education institutions that educate musicians
within the Western classical music tradition, and we find them on all continents. Even
though we tend to look at them as a relatively homogenous group of institutions, there are
also distinct differences.
first of all, we have two basic traditions that may suggest that there exist different
teaching and learning cultures, i.e., the European conservatoire tradition and the US school
of music tradition. Conservatoires within higher music education have primarily regarded
the education of professional performers as their major mission, while schools of music
have a broader scope where the education of music teachers has had a more dominant
role than education of performers. However, most conservatoires today tend to have a
wide range of programmes, and many schools of music have outstanding performance
programmes, so the traditions are developed and blurred, with a wide range of educational
policies and practices within both traditions.
similarities and differences within this large group of institutions and effects on
teaching and learning are sparingly addressed by research. An exception from this is a
small but important body of research on aspects of institutional culture. Two studies in
the united states, by Kingsbury (1988) and nettl (1995), give descriptions of life in a
conservatoire and in five university music schools, and focus on dominant values and
practices within the institutions. A study of an English conservatoire addresses its learning
culture(s) (Perkins, 2011). These are the practices through which people learn, and the
study concludes that the nature of the conservatoire’s learning culture(s) is four-fold:
cultures privileging the development of specialised performers; culture(s) of networking;
culture(s) of musical hierarchies; and culture(s) of vocational position-taking, where
students appear to come to know where they fit both in the conservatoire and in potential
future professional fields (Perkins, op.cit.). A broader institutional scope is addressed
by Papageorgi and colleagues (2010b, 2010c). Here, students in a university school of
music and two conservatoires in the uK revealed different attitudes towards performance,
academic knowledge and teaching as a career, apparently related to different institutional
cultures and learning environments. The three institutions’ ability to encourage and
develop a supportive community of learning was also perceived differently by the students.
differences in institutional cultures were also supposed to have important consequences for
socialization and occupational identity construction among undergraduate music majors
from three US universities (Austin et al., 2012).
4 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Another study demonstrated similarities between the two basic traditions. From her
study of teaching and learning in a school of music and a conservatoire in the US, Landes
(2008) concluded that students in one of the institutions could be transplanted into the other
and get along because of similar shared meanings and rules of participation in both schools.
However, the two institutions had a similar requirement of musicianship for admission
and Landes concluded that students from more anomalous institutions would have a more
difficult time making the transition.
Other institutional characteristics that may influence teaching and learning differently
in these institutions are their degree of autonomy (i.e., will autonomous institutions develop
another context for teaching and learning compared to institutions that are part of larger
organisations?); artistic basis (how is teaching and learning influenced by a context where
music is one of several art forms? See Blom, 2012.); combination of pre-college and higher
music education students and programmes in the same institution (how is teaching and
learning influenced by a context that includes students in all age groups?); size (is teaching
and learning influenced by the number of students in the institution?); standard of housing
and equipment (for instance, what about sound levels in practice rooms, see Phillips and
Mace, 2008); and funding (will better funding and equipment give better teaching and
learning?). Only a handful of studies have addressed these issues.
My conclusion is that we must be careful when we generalise research results and discuss
results in relation to the specific institutional context where the research has been carried out.
Except for a few conservatoires that specialise in a musical genre (mostly jazz or folk
music), Western classical music dominates in the majority of higher music education
institutions (e.g., Wang & Humphreys, 2009). From this, we would expect that research has
addressed the many aspects of this genre that influence teaching and learning. We have an
abundance of studies of Western classical music as a historical and theoretical phenomenon,
and much of this is vital for teaching and learning about the tradition. There are, however,
other issues that are not addressed, issues that deal with Western classical music as content
for teaching and learning and as supplier of attitudes and values to the institution. What is
the balance between music by dead and living composers in our teaching and learning, or
between national and international outputs? How is teaching and learning influenced by
personal, institutional and cultural values, behaviours and expectations in relation to this
overwhelmingly large tradition? How is solo, chamber and symphony repertoire included
in teaching and learning? Can the deep study and learning approaches required by this
tradition, so dependent on written music and a faithful rendering of a score, limit the time
and effort of music students to develop other skills that can expand their musical foundation
and influence their future job situation?
These and many other questions that address the Western classical music tradition and
its influence on teaching and learning, and, eventually, on the type of musicians we educate,
have hardly been addressed by research. Available studies are by Kingsbury and Nettl
who addressed the impact of the dominating Western classical genre, Nerland (2007) who
addressed how teaching is influenced by personal and professional values, Kedem’s study
from 2011 of how a student became a participant in a specific instrumental tradition, and
Hunter (1993) and Chu (2002) who looked at concert repertory in selected institutions in
the US. The project by Welch and colleagues that addressed students in classical, popular,
jazz and Scottish traditional musicians in several UK institutions is the only one with a
Western Classical Music Studies in Universities and Conservatoires 5
comparative approach (see Creech et al., 2008a, 200b; Welch et al. 2008). It gives important
information about how these different genres impact on students’ attitudes, musical values
and approach to learning. A study of how students’ background, especially their background
(or lack of background) in the classical tradition may influence their experiences in the
higher education institution is presented by Moore (2012). With these exceptions in mind,
my conclusion is that important teaching and learning aspects of the dominant Western
classical musical genre have been neglected as an area of study.
Each year, there are probably more than 100,000 young people who apply for admission to
a higher music education institution and several thousands are admitted. Many of them are
willing to travel around the world to get into the institution where they want to study. How
can we take care of their learning and develop them as musicians?
First of all, we can be aware of their individuality. Research on issues like personality,
self-esteem and identity has revealed a great variety of characteristics, reflections and
6 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
behaviours among music students. Some studies have compared groups of students in
relation to introversion and extroversion. These studies indicate that music education
students in England and the US in general are more extroverted than performance students
(see for instance: Kemp, 1982; Steele & Young, 2008). While this result may support
myths about differences between groups of musicians, a comparison of the personality
structure of classical and jazz students did not support popular expectations of differences
between the two groups (Fisch, 1982). Creech et. al. (2008a) found, however, that while
classical students emphasized notation-based skills and analytical skills, non-classical
students attached greater importance to memorising and improvising. A study of Danish
music students indicated that ‘rhythmic’ students (involving improvisation and electrically
amplified instruments, primarily associated with pop, rock and jazz) had significantly
higher sensation seeking scores than classical students (Vuust et al., 2010).
A study that addressed German violin and double bass students did point to a difference
in relation to dominance (tendency to aim to reach the top of a given hierarchy) and
affiliation (tendency to seek the company of other people). Here, Langner (2002) found that
the best violin students showed more dominance and less affiliation behaviour than not-so-
good violinists and double bassists. A study of Turkish music education students found that
these students scored high on openness, conscientiousness, extroversion and agreeableness
and low in neuroticism, all of this perceived to be very promising for a future career as
music teacher (Cevik, 2011).
Only one study has compared a personality-related trait in students in different
countries. Brand (2004) studied the self-esteem of music education students in the
US, Australia and China, and concluded that Chinese students showed a significantly lower
self-esteem (feelings of self-worth and self-respect) than their Western counterparts. When
we consider the large number of international students in most of today’s higher music
education institutions, research that deals with possible differences due to national and
cultural diversity and tradition is highly needed.
Higher music education is a time when performance students develop and refine their
identity as musicians. Students who enter institutions where performance is the foundation
and who engage in performance activities develop a self-concept as professional musicians
(Kadushin, 1969). A study of students’ self-assessment of skill and expertise revealed that
‘female musicians, other-than-classical musicians and undergraduate musicians may be
more prone than male, classical and professional musicians respectively to having less
positive attitudes towards aspects of their own performance skills and expertise’ (Papageorgi
et al., 2010a, p. 57f). This study also indicated that female and undergraduate students had a
larger gap between ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’ musical skills and expertise, an observation that
calls for attention from teachers and the institution. How students negotiate their identity as
performers from perceived rank and status within a continually changing student body was
illustrated by Juuti and Littleton (2010).
A specific identity issue is the way music education students may feel ‘different’ from
performance students (Conway 2010) and, at the same time, feel a conflict between an
identity as music educator and performer (see for instance: Bouij 1998; Huhtanen 2008;
Roberts 1993). To reconcile these identities is possible (Wilson, 1998), but it is a challenge
for institutions with music education students to develop their identity as music teachers
(e.g., Dolloff, 1999). A study of music education students in two universities, one in
Australia and the other in the US, indicated that the musical identity presents first and
that it provides a framework for making the educational course content relevant (Freer &
Bennett, 2012).
Western Classical Music Studies in Universities and Conservatoires 7
Studies about personality and identity are too few and restricted in time and context to
offer specific advice on teaching and learning. Group differences, where they are indicated,
must not overshadow the large variability in personality and identity characteristics within
the groups.
Music students, like all other students, have their worries. When Dews and Williams
(1989) asked students in the US what sources of stress they perceived to be most debilitating,
‘music progress impatience’ was a particularly important source of stress. Other sources
were ‘job insecurity’ and ‘musical versus personal life conflicts’. This reminds us of how
important it is to give students advice and support on life- and job-related issues, not only
for the sake of their personal well-being but also to maximise their ability and motivation
to complete their study and enter a professional life.
Another worry was ‘pre-performance nervousness’. This is a worry that practically
all music students experience (Tamborrino, 2001). For many of these students’ feelings of
anxiety influenced self-confidence and self-control and were accompanied by trembling,
cold hands and perspiration. Senyshin and O’Neill (2001) found that students, in relation
to the final-year music recital, for the most part experienced performance anxiety as
detrimental to performance. However, there were also references to anxiety as necessary
for a successful performance.
Treatment of severe cases of performance anxiety among students has attracted little
research interest. Studies reveal that instrumental teachers have little theoretical knowledge
of performance anxiety, that they underestimate the level of anxiety and its impact when
students performed in front of a jury and that the anxiety reduction techniques used by
teachers are diverse, with little commonality (Miller & Chesky, 2004). These observations
question the ability of teachers to counsel students with performance anxiety. Teachers
are, however, the first persons that students address when they seek help (Williamon &
Thompson, 2006). This directs our attention to the responsibility of the institution to
establish intervention programs (see for instance: Lee et al., 2012; Stern et al., 2012; Zander
et al., 2010). This is obviously an issue that institutions must attend to, and where research
may indicate good practice.
Several studies have reported a high rate of playing-related health problems among
students (for instance: Kreutz et al., 2008). Hearing damage is one of the potential
hazards of studying and playing music (see for instance: Barlow 2010; Chesky 2010).
Neck, shoulder and back are the most common sites for pain, regardless of instrument
(Williamon & Thompson, 2006). And then there are the instrument-specific injuries.
Playing-related health problems among music students are a relatively new issue for
research and most of the available research is descriptive. Even though Kreutz et. al. (2008)
found that students perceived health problems to interfere with practice and performance
to a lesser extent than what the researchers expected, this is an issue where questions of
treatment and intervention from the institution should have high priority (see for instance:
Lee et al., 2012; Schneider & Chesky, 2011; Zander et al., 2010) and where research can
provide important knowledge.
Gender issues have attracted some interest from research in the previous years.
A study by Welch et.al (2008) found that both female and male students reported
moderate perceived levels of expertise and both reported relative positive musical self-
efficacy. Self-efficacy is ‘the conviction that one can successfully execute the behaviour
required to produce the outcome’ (Bandura 1977, p. 193, see studies by McPherson &
McCormick, 2006; Nielsen, 2004; Ritchie & Williamon, 2011). Female students have
been observed to have a higher injury rate than men (see for instance: Barton et al., 2008;
8 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Cayea & Manchester, 1998), as well as a higher rise in level of fatigue from the first to the
second study year than male students (Hildebrandt et al., 2012), and the influences of role
models on experiences, attitudes, and expectations of male and female students have been
addressed in a couple of studies (Maidlow, 1998; McKeage, 2004). Here is also an area
where more research is needed.
The students’ first encounter with teaching and learning in these institutions is the
entrance examination. The major purpose of these examinations is to predict success in
the study programme, and the examination is used as a screening device. There are only
a handful of studies that have addressed variables that may predict success or failure in
music theory and ear training courses and no studies of how well the entrance examination
procedures predicts performance. Entrance examinations are also used as a diagnostic tool,
but there is no research on the specific use and outcomes of this practice. Taking into account
that students enter the conservatoire with different backgrounds (Lebler et al., 2009), it may
be that the entrance examination can function as an opportunity better to understand what
the students bring with them and use this knowledge in the curriculum development and
teaching process.
Some institutions offer introductory courses in learning or study skills for new students.
There is, however, no research on the content and effect of such courses. Some students
have been observed to approach learning in specific ways, for instance through a preference
for either an aural, visual, kinaesthetic, or reading-based approach and they may be field-
dependent (dependent on a highly structured learning situation) or field-independent (able
to structure the situation themselves). Students also demonstrate different attitudes towards
learning, in their understanding of the nature of knowledge and how knowledge is developed
(Nielsen, 2012). The vital question is if their learning is enhanced when teachers try to
adapt their teaching strategies to these learning preferences. Three studies (e.g., Reid, 2001)
have concluded that this seems to be the case. A similar issue is related to personality:
How do students and teachers with different types of personality react to each other? This
issue has been looked at in two studies by Schmidt (1989a and 1989b), on extroversion
and introversion in students and teachers, and a study by Atlas et al. (2004) about sensitive
students and teacher criticism. These studies reinforce the general advice to teachers that
they should try to adapt their teaching to the student’s uniqueness.
Instrumental (and, to a much lesser degree, vocal) practising alone has attracted a
fair amount of research. Students use their practice time for both performance activities
and non-performance activities (e.g., looking at music scores) and they distribute time
to warming up, technical exercises, and repertory practice, with considerable differences
between instrument groups in the distribution of time (Jørgensen, 1998). The total quantity
of practice has also been addressed by research. Descriptive studies have found that
there are differences in time used to practise among students in different programs, in
different instrument groups, and between different instruments within these groups (see
for instance: Jørgensen, 1997 and 2002; Schonk, 2007). When we compare results from
these studies, carried out in European conservatoires, with studies carried out in schools of
music in the US (Hamann et al., 1998; Kostka, 2002; Lammers & Kruger, 2006) and a UK
university (Burwell & Shipton, 2011), we observe that students in conservatoires in general
invest more time in practising than students in schools of music. Only two studies have
addressed the relationship between amount of practice and instrumental performance level
in conservatoires. One study, Ericsson et al. (1993) compared a group of 10 ‘best violin
students’ with 10 ‘good violin students’ in a German Musikhochschule, and concluded that
there was no difference in weekly practice time among the two groups. However, a study by
Western Classical Music Studies in Universities and Conservatoires 9
Jørgensen (2002), addressing 100 students on all instruments in the performance program
in a Norwegian conservatoire, found a significant positive relationship between weekly
practice time and the performance grade given by a jury at the final exam.
Descriptions of students’ use of practice strategies have revealed that they have a wide
repertory of strategies. Some of the strategies are concerned with planning, where goal
formulations and time management are important tasks. The study by Jørgensen (1998)
revealed that many students start practice sessions without an effort to plan and establish goals
for the session, while they are more concerned with short-term goals that change frequently
during practice (Nielsen, 2001). Motivation studies of different aspects of goals, e.g., the
students’ focus on mastering a task or focus on impressing others and focus on enjoyment,
have suggested that students are predominantly task oriented (Nielsen, 2008). So far,
however, there is too little research on this issue to justify conclusions and recommendations.
In addition, the relationship between individual students’ motivational dispositions and
teaching approaches has not been addressed by research. An important reminder of the
cultural aspects of motivation is provided by Brand (2001). He found that American students
relied more on extrinsic motivation and rote learning approaches than Chinese students.
Several studies by Nielsen (1997, 1999, 2004) have observed students that are skilful in
self-regulatory learning, that use a collection of executive strategies that help them select,
organize and connect problem areas and tasks, are able to use this to aid them in focusing
attention, mastering achievement and anxiety, or ensure efficient use of time and, in general,
apply a full range of cognitive, metacognitive and resource management strategies. Several
other studies (see for example: Dos Santos & Gerling, 2011; Dos Santos & Hentscke, 2011;
Hultberg, 2008; McHugh-Grifta, 2011; Miklaszewski, 1989; Miksza, 2006 and 2011) have
provided more details to our understanding of students’ use of executive practice strategies,
like mental rehearsal versus playing, strategies to master the whole piece versus smaller
parts, strategies for difficult and challenging parts, and strategies concerned with tempo.
Singers’ memorization of text and music has been studied by Ginsborg (2002).
A prominent observation in most of these studies about practising is the marked
individual differences in students’ use of strategies and allocation of time to practising.
Studies by Barry (2007) and Koopman et al. (2007) also observed that the way teachers
approached playing and learning in lessons influenced the way students approached
individual practice. Research on how teachers (through lessons) and institutions (through
seminars and courses) address teaching of practising is highly needed.
Practising with others in non-conducted groups (duos, trios, etc.) has only been taken up
in a handful of studies (see for instance: Davidson & Good, 2002; King, 2006, Pulman, 2009)
and is an issue that calls for research. The same goes for students’ performance activities.
Questions about what they perform, where and for whom, with what type of preparation
and support, and if and how performance in concerts is evaluated and given feedback, are
some of the many issues related to performance that is mostly ignored by research.
Students spend several years in higher music education institutions and we expect them
to develop skills and knowledge and attitudes. Nevertheless, the learning development
of music students has been little addressed by research. The transition from pre-college
institutions to a higher music education institution poses challenges that are not addressed
by research. The cognitive development of students has been addressed in one study
(Harding, 1986), indicating that some students still operated somewhat on the ‘concrete’
level in Piagetian theory, with consequences for their ability to reason formally and isolate
and control variables. A couple of studies based on Perry’s developmental stages indicated
that male students were operating on more advanced stages than female (Bennett, 1991) and
10 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
that participant female students did not reach the highest level (Kerchner, 2006). Attrition is
another issue: Why do some students drop out? This is a vital question for the institutions,
and there is (to the best of my knowledge) only one study of this issue, involving Mexican
students (Gonzáles-Moreno, 2012).
Another developmental task is to progress from student to professional musician.
K. Nielsen (1998) observed how conservatoire pianists progressed through three stages,
with changing involvement in the ‘community of practice’; other studies have been more
concerned with the mentoring role of teachers in this process and the importance of peer
networks (e.g., Creech et al., 2009). This is an issue that is strongly related to the question
‘Why do students want a career in music?’ (see, for example, Parkes & Jones, 2011).
From this overview it is evident that, while we have several studies of students and
their learning processes and development, there are many issues that are not addressed at
all, and several issues that need more studies of a greater variety, institutionally, culturally,
and nationally.
The qualifications and behaviour of performance teachers are of vital importance for the
students’ development. When Kazez (1991) conducted a nation-wide survey in the US on
hiring practices for performance teachers, the seven most important considerations reported
by the institutions (mostly schools of music) were, in priority order: teaching ability,
performance ability, teaching experience, degree earned, performing experience, references
and publications. Another study from the US, addressing Chairs of ‘search committees’
for college woodwind vacancies, revealed that performance ability was significantly more
important than other abilities (Wasson, 1992). A similar study in conservatoires in Europe
would probably give the same result.
The question of teaching qualifications for performance teachers is a delicate one.
Several US studies reveal that performance teachers have started their careers with no
intention to teach (e.g., Doubek, 2001), and Mills’ study (2004) in the UK found that only 4
of 37 interviewed performance teachers had some sort of teacher qualification and that they
felt that they ‘had learnt how to teach primarily by doing it’. However, is there more to
teaching than can be gained by observing and reflecting on one’s own teaching, even though
this is important? Here is a challenge to the institutions to provide instrumental teachers
opportunities to develop as teachers as well as performers.
The identity that instrumental teachers bring to their job can also illustrate this issue.
Harris (1991) found that 56% of a random sample of performance teachers in the US
identified more with the musician’s role than the teacher’s, while 29% indicated more
identification with the teacher’s role. In Mills’ study in the UK, all the 37 performance
teachers described their professional identity primarily as ‘performer’ or ‘musician’; none
of them looked at themselves primarily as ‘teachers’. This apparent difference in role
identity between teachers in the US and UK is interesting. Does the different role perception
influence teaching, in any way? There is no research to inform us on this issue. However,
an indication of how different role conceptions may influence content and focus of teaching
was illustrated by Nerland (2002, 2007). She observed three performance teachers in a
Norwegian conservatoire and found that they demonstrated a strong commitment towards,
respectively, artistic expression, the tradition and history of the teacher’s instrument and
the role of an orchestra member. The values that were important for the teachers had a
Western Classical Music Studies in Universities and Conservatoires 11
distinct influence on their teaching. The interface between performer and teacher is also
studied in a Greek University and a Greek conservatoire, with observations of how these
teachers can promote ‘authentic learning experiences for both themselves and their students
by assuming multiple roles’ (Triantafyllaki, 2010a, p. 84) and how the institution provided
roles and responsibilities that were related to the teachers’ experience in other workplaces
(Triantafyllaki, 2010b), as in the study by Nerland (op.cit.).
The last couple of decades have presented several studies of many facets of one-to-one
teaching. Some studies have described lesson content, for instance proportion of talk from
teacher and student, and proportion of talk versus play, and found that the teachers are the
‘talkers’ and the students are the ‘doers’ (see for instance: Sogin & Valentine, 1992; Young
et al., 2003). Several studies have also revealed that a majority of time devoted to talk has
addressed technical issues (see for instance: Karlsson & Juslin, 2008; Young et al., 2003),
while one study observed an even balance between the technical and expressive issues
(Laukka, 2004). This last study also emphasised large differences between the teachers.
Gaunt (2006) concluded that reflective practice might be falling short of its potential in some
of the teaching cases that she studied in a UK conservatoire, and Koopman et al. (2007) also
found that discussion of practising was virtually absent from the lessons of the six teachers
they observed in a conservatoire in Holland. This raises the question: Is it acceptable to
ignore an explicit discourse on practice issues in instrumental lessons?
Koopman and his colleagues also observed that none of the lessons included any
explicit communication about goals of the lessons. The dominating approach was ‘ad hoc’,
where students played a piece and the teacher commented on the playing. Only one teacher
provided the students with interconnected exercises that had a clear focus, whilst resuming
work on major topics in later lessons. These observations are in contrast to the teaching
behaviour of three ‘eminent performance teachers’ in the US. They emphasized goals and
expectations in their teaching (Duke & Simmons, 2006). Wexler (2009) found that teachers
across different instrumental groups in US colleges shared goals and values related to
teaching and artistry as well as individuality versus authority.
When Mills (2002) asked first- and second-year students in a conservatoire in UK
‘What are the ingredients of instrumental teaching that are effective for you?’, they wanted,
among other things, ‘to feel that they had made good progress with their technique,
musicality, practice skills and confidence’ (p. 79). A teaching strategy that focus specifically
on progress is based on ‘scaffolding’, where the teacher tries to close the gap between
the student’s actual developmental level and the level of potential development (e.g.,
Kennell, 1989, 1997). The development of confidence has partly to do with another basic
aspect of one-to-one teaching, dominance versus submission. To encourage independence
and responsibility from their students is probably regarded as an important task by most
instrumental teachers. Studies describe interactions between teachers and students where
the teacher dominates and expects compliance to suggestions (e.g., Persson, 1994, 1996),
or where all sort of relationships were demonstrated (e.g., Koopman et al., 2007), or studies
where collaboration and reflection dominate (see for instance: Hyry-Beihammer, 2011;
Wirtanen & Littleton, 2004). Gaunt (2010) found that some students in a conservatoire in
the UK worried about the power relationship between teacher and student, and that those
who had experienced difficulties in the relationship expressed anxiety about personal and
professional repercussions. She also found that dynamics of power made it difficult in
some instances for students to articulate difficulties with learning (Gaunt, 2011). This is a
complex issue where we must remember that some students are not ready for freedom and an
opportunity to structure their own learning experiences (Brändström, 1995; Burwell, 2005).
12 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Instrumental teaching is not only carried out in one-to-one situations, but is also
dealt with in group situations. The master class approach has only recently been looked
at (see for instance: Creech et al., 2009; Hanken, 2008). Students appreciate fresh ideas
for interpretation and technique, while performance anxiety is a potential problem. In a
study by Long et al. (2012) significantly more female than male students listened to master
classes, used peer-learning strategies while listening and were more likely to report negative
perceptions of the content of the master class. The master class is an approach to teaching
that asks for more research. The same may be said about teaching of groups of instrumental
students by two or more teachers, team-teaching. This is a fairly recent approach in many
conservatoires, and students and teachers who have experience from several models of
team-teaching give a variety of opinions on its strengths and weaknesses in a study at a
UK conservatoire (Wöllner & Ginsborg, 2011). From his study of piano students in groups,
Daniel (2006) concludes that the group model offers a more holistic learning environment
than the one-to-one approach, and recommends higher music education institutions to
develop this approach.
The ongoing (formative) assessment that students receive from teachers and peers is
very important for learning and progress. This type of assessment has been addressed in
some of the studies mentioned above and peers have also been involved in performance
evaluation in group settings. Studies (see for instance: Geringer & Madsen, 1998;
Hunter, 2006, Latukefu, 2010), indicate that this is an opportunity for learning both for the
evaluated students and the evaluators.
Students must also learn to assess their own strengths and weaknesses. Some studies
have indicated that students’ self-evaluation usually correlated poorly, and sometimes
negatively, with faculty and peer evaluations (e.g. Bergee & Cecconi-Roberts, 2002). Here
is an obviously issue for teachers and institutions to address.
Even though instrumental teaching has been addressed by comparatively many studies
with interesting perspectives and observations, most of the issues have only a handful and
fewer studies to inform us. Some issues are not addressed at all, and there are very few
studies of vocal teaching and learning.
We may ask: Who is responsible for student learning and development in higher music
education institutions (Jørgensen, 2000) and what is the role of the institution in supporting
learning (Welch & Ockelford, 2009)? The sensible answer is that students, teachers, and
the institution through its leadership must share this responsibility. There are arenas where
each of them has primary responsibility, but there are also grey zones where it is up to an
initiative from one of the three stakeholders to ‘intrude’ on areas that are traditionally looked
at as their task to take care of. Change (for the better) is often difficult, and it requires effort
from many stakeholders and an institutional climate that encourages sharing of experiences
and viewpoints. A study of one-to-one teaching in a Swedish conservatoire indicates how
personal experiences remain on an individual level and are not used as knowledge attainable
for the collective of teachers, students and institution (Johansson, 2012).
There are, however, areas where the institution has a primary responsibility and where
we have some research to inform us. Counselling of students, both study counselling
and personal counselling is one of them. Other areas are the way the institution monitors
persistence and dropout among students, the way the institution is organised so that students
Western Classical Music Studies in Universities and Conservatoires 13
and teachers can voice their opinions in a quest for improvement, and the opportunities
students have to perform. The social climate of the institution, with its group processes and
social interaction patterns has a potential effect on teaching and learning and is another issue
that should concern the institutional leadership. The way the institution keeps in contact
with the job situation for musicians, and the way students are prepared for a diversity of
jobs are also important. None of these issues have had a strong research attention.
I believe that research is helpful as one of the sources that can influence quality of
teaching and learning in the institutions. This chapter is based on Jørgensen (2009), where
the issues presented in this chapter, as well as other issues relevant for life in higher music
education institutions, are treated more extensively. One conclusion from the book’s
overview is that there are many issues in higher music education that are waiting for
research. There are, however, more than 850 studies from more than 25 countries that have
addressed the issues mentioned in this overview, as well as many others, and 90% of these
studies have been published in the last 30 years (Jørgensen, 2010). Most of this research
has been undertaken by doctoral students and staff in their institutions. This actualizes
the question: Who can we count on to do this research? Traditionally, we expect someone
from ‘outside’ to look ‘inside’ an institution. My suggestion is that the institutions must
encourage and develop expertise within their own walls from those who are qualified
to do this research. In addition to the most used research approach (empirical research),
there may be more historical and philosophical/theoretical investigations and the most
used empirical approaches (descriptive and relational) can be supplemented by action
research. Studies where many facets of an institution’s life are addressed are especially
welcome, not the least because they are potential meeting-grounds for different groups
within the institution.
References
Blom, D. (2012). Inside the collaborative inter-arts improvisatory process: Tertiary music
students’ perspectives. Psychology of Music, 40(6) , 720–37.
Bouij, C. (1998). Swedish music teachers in training and professional life. International
Journal of Music Education, 32, 24–32.
Brand, M. (2001). Chinese and American music majors: Cross-cultural comparisons in
motivation and strategies for learning and studying. Psychology of Music, 29(2), 170–78.
Brand, M. (2004). Collectivistic versus individualistic cultures: A comparison of American,
Australian, and Chinese music education students’ self-esteem, Music Education
Research, 6(1), 57–65.
Brändström, S. (1995). Self-formulated goals and self-evaluation in music education.
Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education, 127, 16–21.
Burwell, K. (2005). A degree of independence: Teachers’ approaches to instrumental tuition
in a university college. British Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 199–215.
Burwell, K. & Shipton, M. (2011). Performance studies in practice: An investigation of
students’ approaches to practice in a university music department. Music Education
Research, 13(3), 255–71.
Cayea, D. & Manchester, R. A. (1998, March). Instrument-specific rates of upper-extremity
injuries in music students. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 19–25.
Cevik, B. (2011). Personality self-perceptions of Turkish music pre-service teachers in relation
to departmental satisfaction’, International Journal of Music Education, 29(3), 212–28.
Chesky, K. (2010, March). Measurement and prediction of sound expose levels by
University wind bands. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 25, 29–34.
Conway, C., Eros, J., Pellegrino, K. & West, C. (2010). Instrumental music education
students’ perceptions of tensions experienced during their undergraduate degree.
Journal of Research in Music Education, 58(3), 260–75.
Creech, A., Gaunt, H., Hallam, S. & Robertson, L. (2009). Conservatoire students’
perceptions of master classes. British Journal of Music Education, 26(3), 315–31.
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Morton, F., Haddon, L., Potter, J., de Bezenac, C.,
Whyton, T., Himonides, E. & Welch, G. (2008a). Investigating musical performance:
Commonality and diversity among classical and non-classical musicians. Music
Education Research, 10(2) , 215–34.
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Morton, F., Potter, J., de Bezenac, C., Whyton, T.,
Himonides, E. & Welch, G. (2008b). From music student to professional: The process
of transition. British Journal of Music Education, 25(3), 315–31.
Chu, H. (2002). Investigation on piano recital program-building. (Unpublished EdD
Thesis). Columbia University Teachers College. DAI-A 63/03, 533.
Daniel, R. (2006). Exploring music instrument teaching and learning environments: Video
analysis as a means of elucidating process and learning outcomes. Music Education
Research, 8(2), 191–215.
Davidson, J. W. & Good, J. M. M. (2002). Social and musical co-ordination between
members of a string quartet: an exploratory study. Psychology of Music, 30(2), 186–201.
Dews, C. L. B. & Williams, M. S. (1989). Student musicians’ personality styles, stresses,
and coping patterns. Psychology of Music, 17(1), 37–47.
Dolloff, L. A. (1999). Imagining ourselves as teachers: The development of teacher identity
in music teacher education. Music Education Research, 1(2), 191–207.
DosSantos, R. A. T. & Gerling, C. (2011). (Dis)Similarities in music performance among
self-regulated learners: an explorative study. Music Education Research, 13(4): 431–46.
Western Classical Music Studies in Universities and Conservatoires 15
Dos Santos, R. A. T. & Hentschke, L. (2011). Praxis and poiesis in piano repertoire
preparation. Music Education Research, 13(3), 273–92.
Doubek, M. B. (2001). Career awareness of accomplished classical musicians in positions
of higher education. (Unpublished EdD Thesis). University of Houston, Houston,
TX, DAI-A 62/02, 442.
Duke, R. A. & Simmons, A. L. (2006). The nature of expertise: Narrative descriptions of 19
common elements observed in the lessons of three renowned artist-teachers. Bulletin of
the Council for Research in Music Education, 170, 7–19.
Ericsson, K. A., Krampe, R. Th. & Tesch-Römer, C. (1993). The role of deliberate practice
in the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological Review, 100(3), 363–406.
Fisch, S. C. (1982). Assessment of ego functions in classical and jazz musicians: A study
of personality differences. (Unpublished PhD Thesis). Michigan State University, East
Lansing, MI.
Freer, P. K. & Bennett, D. (2012). Developing musical and educational identities in
university music students. Music Education Research, 14(3), 265–84.
Gaunt, H. (2006). Student and teacher perceptions of one-to-one instrumental and vocal
tuition in a conservatoire. (Unpublished PhD Thesis). Institute of Education, University
of London, London.
Gaunt, H. (2010). One-to-one tuition in a conservatoire: The perceptions of instrumental
and vocal students. Psychology of Music, 38(2), 178–208.
Gaunt, H. (2011). Understanding the one-to-one relationship in instrumental/vocal tuition
in Higher Education: comparing student and teacher perceptions. British Journal of
Music Education, 28(2), 159–79.
Geringer, J. M. & Madsen, C. K. (1998). Musicians’ ratings of good versus bad vocal and
string performances. Journal of Research in Music Education, 46(4), 522–34.
Ginsborg, J. (2002). Classical singers learning and memorizing a new song: An observational
study. Psychology of Music, 30(1), 58–101.
Gonzáles-Moreno, P. A. (2012). Student motivation in graduate music programmes:
An examination of personal and environmental factors. Music Education
Research, 14(1), 79–102.
Hamann, D. L., Lineburgh, N. & Paul, S. (1998). Teaching effectiveness and social skill
development. Journal of Research in Music Education, 46(1), 87–101.
Hanken, I. M. (2008). Teaching and learning music performance: The master class, Finnish
Journal of Music Education, 11(2), 26–36.
Harding, R. A. (1986). An investigation to determine levels of Piagetian cognitive
functioning among college undergraduate music majors. (Unpublished DME Thesis).
University of Northern Colorado, Greeley, CO.
Harris, R. D. (1991). Musician and teacher: The relationship between role identification
and intrinsic career satisfaction of the music faculty at doctoral degree granting
institutions. (Unpublished PhD Thesis). University of North Texas, Denton, TX.
Hildebrandt, H., Nübling, M. & Candia, V. (2012). Increment of fatigue, depression, and
stage fright during the first year of high-level education in music students. Medical
Problems of Performing Artists, 27(1), 43–8.
Huhtanen, K. (2008). Constructing a conscious identity in instrumental teacher training.
In D. Bennett & M. Hannan (Eds.), Inside, outside, downside up. Conservatoire
training and musicians’ work (pp. 1–10). Perth: Curtin University of Technology, Black
Swan Press.
16 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Parkes, K. A. & Jones, B. D. (2011). Students’ motivations for considering a career in music
performance. Update: Applications of Research in Music Education, 29(2), 20–28.
Perkins, R. (2011). The construction of ‘Learning Cultures’: An ethnographically-
informed case study of a UK conservatoire. (Unpublished PhD Thesis). University
of Cambridge.
Persson, R. S. (1994). Control before shape - on mastering the clarinet: A case study on
commonsense teaching. British Journal of Music Education, 11(3), 223–38.
Persson, R. S. (1996). Brilliant performers as teachers: a case study of commonsense teaching
in a conservatoire setting. International Journal of Music Education, 28(1), 25–36.
Phillips, S. L., & Mace, S. (2008). Sound level measurements in music practice rooms.
Music Performance Research, 2, 36–47.
Pulman, M. (2009). Seeing yourself as others see you: Developing personal attributes in the
group rehearsal. British Journal of Music Education, 26(2), 117–35.
Reid, A. (2001). Variations in the ways that instrumental and vocal students experience
learning music. Music Education Research, 3(1), 25–40.
Ritchie, L. & Williamon, A. (2011). Measuring distinct types of musical self-efficacy.
Psychology of Music, 39(3), 328–44.
Roberts, B. A. (1993). I, Musician: Towards a model of identity construction and
maintenance by music education students as musicians. St. John’s, Newfoundland:
Memorial University of Newfoundland, 1993.
Schmidt, C. P. (1989a). Individual differences in perception of applied music teaching
feedback. Psychology of Music, 17(2), 110–22.
Schmidt, C. P. (1989b). Applied music teaching behavior as a function of selected
personality variables. Journal of Research in Music Education, 37(4), 258–71.
Schneider, E. & Chesky, K. (2011). Social support and performance anxiety of college
music students. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 26(3), 157–63.
Schonk, C. (2007). ‘Musst du denn immer noch üben?’ Wie viel und wie üben Studierende
deutscher Musikhochschulen?. Üben & Musizieren, 4, 24–7.
Senyshyn, Y. & O’Neill, S. A. (2001). Subjective experience of anxiety and
musical performance: A relational perspective. Philosophy of Music Education
Review, 9(1), 42–53.
Sogin, D. W. & Vallentine, J. F. (1992). Use of instructional time and repertory diversity
in university applied music lessons. The Quarterly Journal of Music Teaching and
Learning, 3(4), 32–6.
Steele, A. L. & Young, S. (2008). A comparison of music education and music therapy
masters: Personality types as described by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and
demographic profiles. Journal of Music Therapy, 45(1), 2–20.
Stern, J. R. S., Khalsa, S. B. S. & Hofmann, S. G. (2012, September). A yoga intervention for
music performance anxiety in conservatory students. Medical Problems of Performing
Artists, 27(3), 123–8.
Tamborrino, R. A. (2001). An examination of performance anxiety associated with solo
performance of college-level music majors. (Unpublished DME Thesis). Indiana
University. DAI-A 62/05, 1636.
Triantafyllaki, A. (2010a) Performance teachers’ identity and professional knowledge in
advanced music teaching. Music Education Research, 12(1), 71–87.
Triantafyllaki, A. (2010b). ‘Workplace landscapes’ and the construction of performance
teachers’ identity: The case of advanced music training institutions in Greece’. British
Journal of Music Education, 27(2), 185–201.
20 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Vuust, P., Gebauer, L., Hansen, N. C., Ramsgaard Jørgensen, S., Møller, A. & Linnet,
J. (2010). Personality influences career choice: sensation seeking in professional
musicians. Music Education Research, 12(2), 219–30.
Wang, J-C. & Humphreys, J. T. (2009). Multicultural and popular music content in
an American music teacher education program. International Journal of Music
Education, 27(1), 19–36.
Wasson, C. S. (1992). The impact of search committees on hiring practices for college
applied woodwind positions. The Quarterly Journal of Music Teaching and
Learning, 3(2), 46–50.
Welch, G., Papageorgi, I., Haddon, L., Creech, A., Morton, F., de Bezenac, C., Duffy, C.,
Potter, J., Whyton, T. & Himonides, E. (2008). Musical genre and gender as factors
in higher education learning in music. Research Papers in Education, 23(2), 203–17.
Welch, G. & Ockelford, A. (2009). The role of the institution and teachers in supporting
learning. In S. Hallam, I. Cross and M. Thaut (Eds), The Oxford Handbook of Music
Psychology (pp. 307–19). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Wexler, M. K. (2009). A comparative survey of goals and strategies of college music
performance teachers across instrumental groups. (Unpublished EdD Thesis). Teachers
College, Columbia University, NY.
Williamon, A. & Thompson, S. (2006). Awareness and incidence of health problems among
conservatoire students. Psychology of Music, 34(4), 411–30.
Wilson, L. E. (1998). The experience of music teachers/performers in public schools.
(Unpublished PhD Thesis). New York University. DAI-A 59/05, 1505.
Wirtanen, S. & Littleton, K. (2004). Collaboration, conflict and the musical identity work
of solo-piano students: the significance of the student-teacher relationship. In D. Miell
& K. Littleton (Eds), Collaborative creativity: Contemporary perspectives (pp. 26–39).
London: Free Association Books.
Wöllner, C. & Ginsborg, J. (2011). Team teaching in the conservatoire: The views of music
performance staff and students. British Journal of Music Education, 28(3), 301–23.
Young, V., Burwell, K. & Pickup, D. (2003). Areas of study and teaching strategies
in instrumental teaching: a case study research project. Music Education
Research, 5(2), 139–55.
Zander, M. F., Voltmer, E. & Spahn, C. (2010). Health promotion and prevention in higher
music education: Results of a longitudinal study. Medical Problems of Performing
Artists, 25(1), 54–65.
chapter 2
Brilliant corners:
the development of Jazz in Higher education
tony Whyton
education thus remains one of the most powerful discourses within the complex of
colonialism and neo-colonialism. A powerful technology of social control, it also offers
one of the most potentially fruitful routes to dis/mantling of that old author/ity. (Ashcroft
et al., 1995, p. 427)
Introduction
the proliferation of jazz studies programmes in europe and north America, from the 1960s
to the present, has provided a distinct contrast to traditional models of music making and,
in the uK alone, the music is now represented in the over 50 higher education institutions
(Whyton, 2010a). indeed, today, jazz functions as a stand-alone subject, as a modular
component within degree courses, or as a research interest of scholars working in a variety
of disciplinary contexts. However, despite the fact that jazz offers a refreshing alternative
to conventional modes of musical study, the perception of jazz as an academic subject has
remained quite limited.
Within the context of higher education, programmes in both the us and europe have
tended to focus either on jazz as a practical discipline (primarily exploring the acquisition of
technical skills), or on jazz as a subject that offers a platform for historical, social and cultural
investigation, drawing on methodologies that often sit outside the confines of traditional
musicology. this chapter explores the development of jazz in higher education and the
critical discourse surrounding jazz pedagogy today. Specifically, I engage with critical
tensions that have shaped the landscape of jazz education and examine the way in which jazz
pedagogy has adapted to changing social circumstances. By exploring the current context
for jazz education, i will discuss how the potential negative aspects of the current scene can
be viewed as opportunities both to explore music in higher education from a unique cultural
perspective and to develop innovative and world-leading initiatives that consider research,
education, and professional practice as integrated, interdisciplinary activities.
Whilst jazz studies is now recognised as a dynamic research and pedagogical field, tensions
still exist between the inherited practices of jazz and the educational environments in which
the music is taught today. in the late 1980s, for example, lewis Porter discussed the way
in which the early development of jazz studies was shaped both by amateur interests and
22 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
journalistic practices. Indeed, Porter suggests that, up until the late 1980s, the study of jazz
had largely been an amateur pursuit and that there was a growing need for educators to
come of age and demonstrate the potential for jazz to be regarded as a legitimate academic
subject. Within this context, Porter argued that musicologists needed to take jazz seriously,
devoting time to developing appropriate methods for musical analysis and historical
enquiry (Porter, 1988). Although Porter’s claims of the dominance of journalistic writings
and insights of the enthusiastic amateur were certainly true, notable jazz musicians and
writers played a significant role in creating an infrastructure for jazz education that has
remained until the present day. Marshall Stearns, for example, was instrumental in founding
the Institute of Jazz Studies in 1952, and the research centre moved to Rutgers University
in the mid-1960s (Institute of Jazz Studies, 2012). Furthermore, as Ken Prouty illustrates,
respected musicians such as George Russell and David Baker played an integral part in
promoting the theoretical aspects of jazz and, with Baker in particular, in negotiating a
space for jazz within higher education in the US. Prouty discusses how the development of
jazz education began to take hold from the late 1940s and 1950s in the US, with institutions
such as North Texas State College (now the University of North Texas) and the Schillinger
House (now Berklee College of Music) offering pioneering jazz-based education activities
(Prouty, 2012, p. 48; Prouty, 2005).
Come the 1960s, in both North America and Europe, there was a flourishing of
programmes and resources devoted to the exploration of jazz as a stand-alone subject for
study. For example, the Jazz Research Institute in Graz was founded in 1964 as the first
institution of its type in Europe and, from the late 1960s, began publishing materials on
jazz, from historical essays to musical analyses and transcriptions. In the UK, institutions
such as the Guildhall School of Music and Drama and Leeds College of Music developed
stand-alone programmes devoted to jazz by the late 1960s, although the latter’s
programmes were tinged with an air of Britishness and marketed under the banner of
jazz, popular and ‘light music’. From these early days in both North America and Europe,
there appeared an institutional separation in approach to the study of jazz, either treating
the music as an historical, archival resource to be studied by musicologists, critics, record
collectors and enthusiasts, or as a performance practice, designed for musicians to acquire
advanced musical skills.1 However, as Prouty discusses, jazz education has not developed
in isolation, devoid of changing social circumstances. Indeed, formal jazz education
evolved out of a period of social change where institutions responded to different cultural
conditions, and musicians had significant agency in stating a claim for jazz within the
educational sector.
Despite the 1960s providing a period of intense negotiation, transformation and
development for jazz in education, the value of jazz was not acknowledged by everyone
at the time, as the following statement by New York-based music teacher Harry Allen
Feldman illustrates:
1
Even today, the University of Music and Performing Arts Graz has two institutes devoted to
jazz; the jazz research institute and an institute for jazz performance.
Brilliant Corners 23
longer insures that he will not blow a safe. It may well blow him into delinquency, for
who can deny the close association between jazz and delinquency? (Feldman, 1964, p. 60)
These words, published as part of an article appearing in the Music Educators Journal, are
typical of a hostile view of jazz in education, where the music is regarded as contaminating,
without artistic value, and beyond the scope of formal musical methods. Elsewhere in
the article, Feldman’s argument reinforces a type of Leavisite position which presents
jazz as part of a corrupt popular culture that has no worth beyond mere degenerative
entertainment.2 In opposition to the degraded and dangerous entry of jazz into the education
sector, Feldman advocates the virtues of classical music and elitist approaches to music;
he discusses jazz as a vernacular form, the music is discredited and portrayed as deviant,
engendering feelings of disobedience and disorder. As an article written in 1964, there
is clearly a link to other romanticised or false perceptions of jazz from around this time
which link the music to a kind of pathological hysteria or delinquency; these arguments
also carry sinister racial undertones, which are evidenced in Feldman’s suggestion that the
study of John Philip Sousa’s work would be preferable to jazz due to it being ‘so purely
American’ (Feldman, 1964, p. 63).3
Although Feldman’s view might have been one extreme perspective in a vast spectrum
of opinions about the validity of jazz in education, the negativity towards the music, and
logic of this argument, would certainly serve to explain the strategies of musicians, writers
and educators who were seeking to justify the place of the music in educational settings
around this time. Whilst the momentum of the jazz education movement was significant
enough throughout the 1960s to guarantee the music a permanent place in educational
settings to the present day, the need to justify the music as a legitimate art form provided
the main impetus for establishing jazz within institutional environments. Here, rather
than questioning the grounds upon which assumptions of ‘high’ or ‘minority’ culture had
dominated educational environments until that point, and replacing these outmoded ideas
with a celebration of the virtues of vernacular forms, jazz writers, musicians and educators
served to adopt the rhetoric and value systems of the established order, shifting the ground
upon which jazz was understood. It is no coincidence, therefore, that Martin Williams’ book
The Jazz Tradition was published in 1970 – the title clearly evoking F. R. Leavis’s work,
The Great Tradition – and served almost as a triumphant indicator that jazz had come of
age as a canonical and timeless art (see Williams, 1993).4 By supposedly objectifying the
musical standards of the great art traditions, and laying claim to jazz as a form of America’s
classical music, jazz educators could begin to sidestep the accusations of vulgarity and
flippant entertainment and establish a legitimate position within educational institutions;
jazz was no longer popular music and could be studied as an art form with an accompanying
2
F. R. Leavis’s writings laid the foundation for many of the criticisms of twentieth-century
popular culture, offering despair at the standardisation of culture and the levelling of the arts to the
masses. Leavis promoted the idea that culture should remain in minority keeping (see Leavis, 1994).
For an overview and critique of Leavisism, see Storey, 2006).
3
We can consider Feldman’s comments in relation to broader studies and attitudes which
either celebrate the ‘outsider’ qualities of jazz or which fetishise the work of African American
men, essentialising black male subjects through depictions of hyper-masculinity and psychopathic
tendencies. See, for example, Becker (1963), Merriam & Mack (1960), and Mailer (1957).
4
For an overview of the politics of canonisation in jazz see Gabbard (1995) and Deveaux
(1991). For a critical evaluation of Martin Williams’ jazz criticism, see Gennari (2006).
24 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
tradition, canon of great masterworks and pedagogical methods that worked well alongside
the tried and tested norms of classical music.
Rather than viewing the jazz institution as something ‘imposed’ on the music from the top
down, as it is commonly asserted, the development of jazz education should be understood
more as part of a complex interrelationship and negotiation between musicians, educators
and institutions. Moreover, the period of rapid growth of education programmes also
corresponded to a period of social change where the work of jazz musicians in particular,
and the legitimacy of African-American art in general, was battling for recognition and
cultural status, and jazz was also renegotiating its place within popular culture and the
wider marketplace; these broader contextual factors are rarely acknowledged in detail and
often downplayed when discussing the development of jazz education. These historical
complexities and contextual differences have led to a situation where, today, jazz education
is littered with contradictory methods, assumptions and practices. In effect, ‘jazz studies’
is born out of a continued stream of negotiations where educators work both within and
outside different cultural paradigms and established value systems.
To unpack this further, I would like to demonstrate how these tensions play out
in practice. For example, jazz musicians and audiences have often promoted anti-
intellectualism as a marker of the music’s authenticity. Indeed, the perceived separation of
theory from the creative practices of jazz lies at the heart of these attitudes. The argument
that jazz is a music that is felt, innate and instinctive pervades the historical discourse of the
music and the representation of heroic jazz figures. Indeed, the assertion of the musician
as rebellious outsider is not far removed from Feldman’s description of jazz as a form
of delinquency. Like trailblazing rock stars, jazz musicians are often portrayed as natural
outsiders who produce their own distinctive sounds away from, or in reaction to, traditional
institutional structures and formal educational environments. This type of depiction can
be seen in a number of biographical representations of iconic jazz musicians, from the
presentation of Louis Armstrong as entirely self-taught to playing down the role of formal
training in the career of Miles Davis.5 Leonard Brown’s edited collection John Coltrane &
Black America’s Quest for Freedom offers a recent example of how formal education – and
the European influence - is downplayed or actively ignored in jazz. Despite John Coltrane’s
engagement and commitment to formal educational learning, the significance of training in
Coltrane’s biography is ignored in favour of a reading of Coltrane’s genius as rooted firmly
in the oral, mysterious, and exclusive domain of an essential African American tradition
(see Brown, 2010, p. 6). In reality, Coltrane – as with several other jazz stars – combined
formal and informal methods of learning in order to acquire the skills necessary to perform
at the highest level. This downplaying or exclusion of formal education in mainstream
5
See Kenney (1995, p. 59), for an account of Louis Armstrong’s interaction with conservatoire
tutors. Similarly, in the introduction to my Jazz Icons book (Whyton, 2010b), I discuss the way in
which formal education is represented as the antithesis of authentic jazz, drawing on the depiction of
Miles Davis and his experience at the Julliard School in Michael Mann’s 2004 film Collateral. Krin
Gabbard has also pointed out that Davis’s Julliard experience was not as clear cut as has been commonly
represented. Indeed, rather than severing all ties to the institution to seek out Charlie Parker on 52nd
Street, as has been commonly presented, Davis took resit exams at the end of his first year at Julliard.
This feeds into a broader issue about the control of the representation of Davis. See Gabbard (2009).
Brilliant Corners 25
discourse points to a need to preserve broader cultural mythologies about jazz as a ‘natural’
and rebellious music. Coupled with this, the journalistic writings that have shaped the
dominant discourse also tend to reinforce an anti-intellectualism that is prevalent within
popular culture at large. In his book, No Respect: Intellectuals and Popular Culture,
Andrew Ross describes the suspicion and resistance to training and intellectual thought
within mainstream popular culture:
[I]f acquired skills and accredited knowledge are often seen to be worthless in the face
of “natural” life, then the authority and privileges that come with them might also be
unwarranted. This is an anxiety that speaks to a general ambivalence about, if not distrust
of, the authoritative role of experts in people’s lives. (Ross, 1999, pp. 1–2)
In spite of the general antagonism towards intellectuals in popular culture, Ross’s work
points to an underlying hegemony within these debates that ultimately serves to reinforce
institutional structures and support for the status quo. He continues:
For Ross, rebellion and anti-intellectualism exist as a common theme within popular
culture but, through an interconnectedness of oppositional attitudes and values, these acts
ultimately serve to reinforce the organising characteristics of society and the authority
of individuals. In jazz, this can clearly be seen within the promotion of jazz mythologies
and the suspicion of academic study, especially when we consider the way in which anti-
academic attitudes co-exist with assertions of jazz musicians as role models, great artists
and transcendent icons. As jazz becomes increasingly distanced from popular culture and
its perceived ‘high brow’ status is continually reinforced, the music has inevitably become
bound up with the legitimising strategies of canonical art forms, including both a body of
masterworks and a backdrop of intellectual thought which justifies the music’s status as
aesthetically valuable. Here, a paradox exists where jazz mythologies continue to promote
anti-intellectualism on the one hand, and yet, the music has become increasingly reliant on
institutions and intellectuals both to reinforce its canonical status and to make the music
appear distant from popular culture. The popular-/high-culture tension is only one false
dichotomy that continues to play out in the current jazz scene. Indeed, false dichotomies
can also be evidenced in the contradictory practices of jazz musicians themselves. For
example, jazz musicians have played a significant role in promoting jazz as being on the
margins of mainstream education, displaying a mixture of scepticism and apathy towards
the institutionalisation of jazz. Here, musicians have continued to promote romanticised
ideals about jazz being an intuitive, natural music that has been in decline since the
advent of formal jazz education. Although several high profile musicians have questioned
the validity of jazz education, suggesting that institutions and the standardisation of
pedagogical methods stifle creativity, almost every high profile jazz musician working
26 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
today has some experience of, or affiliation to, jazz-based institutions. Ironically, this
scepticism does not prevent the majority of professional jazz musicians from having
affiliations with educational establishments or promoting their own pedagogical practice
through their own studies, transcription aids and ‘how to improvise’ publications. Roles
range from permanent appointments to visiting professors, clinicians to peripatetic tutors;
even though oppositional stances are the norm for many musicians, all have a stake in jazz
education in some way.6 In other words, musician educators are often able to have the their
metaphorical cake and eat it too, maintaining an air of rebellion and disdain for academic
life while continuing to enjoy the status of the intellectual and working within existing
educational structures.
Simon Frith uses the same social and cultural idiosyncrasies to explain why jazz
education is often distanced from the growth of popular music studies. In his article, ‘Is Jazz
Popular Music?’ Frith comments on the way in which, historically, jazz studies developed
in parallel to the larger popular music studies movement, largely retaining its journalistic
approach and emphasis on the lives and perspectives of musicians who perform the music
(Frith, 2007). For Frith, despite the proliferation of different approaches to musical studies
in the 1980s, jazz scholarship has existed on the periphery of popular music studies, with a
body of scholars and musicians remaining reluctant and resistant to exposing jazz to broader
social and cultural scrutiny. I would argue that the politics of the popular does not just exist
in the theoretical domain but is a very live issue in both jazz education and broader cultural
institutions at present. To illustrate this point, I recently attended a symposium on Popular
Music and Social Change in the Nordic Countries in Helsinki where a panel of archivists
and museum directors discussed the challenges of curating and exhibiting popular music.7
When the question of jazz cropped up as part of the discussion, the Norwegian and Danish
representatives described jazz as an integral part of their popular music museums whereas
the Finnish museum director stated categorically that jazz was not popular music and did
not form part of his institution’s current collection or curatorial policy.
The changing cultural status of jazz is reflected in these debates as the music is
frequently aligned with the structures of classical music; this has, inevitably, had an impact
on the way in which jazz is studied and researched. In addition to a limited number of
jazz programmes worldwide, jazz studies tends to exist either as enhancement to classical
music studies or as an historical perspective within popular music discourse. Within the
majority of European conservatoires, for example, jazz is not only placed in a minority
position but also is typically delivered within a structure that has been designed with the
practices of classical music in mind. The development of jazz education within these
environments has also created conditions where jazz is promoted as an extension of the
6
For examples of a range of musicians’ perspectives on jazz education, see Nicholson (2005)
and Whyton (2006). During my time at Leeds College of Music, I was always amazed by the range
of visiting workshop artists and performers who continued to perpetuate the myth of the outsider or
a general disdain for formal jazz education. For example, I observed a workshop with Dave Liebman
in 2007 where half the session was built around critiquing formal institutions and the working methods
of educators and the other half was spent promoting Liebman’s own publications and pedagogical
methods for learning.
7
The event, funded by Nordic Culture fund, took place on 13 and 14 April 2012 at the
Finnish Jazz and Pop Archive in Helsinki and was organised by Fabian Holt and Antti-Ville Kärjä.
The panel included Jonas Bjälesjö from the Svenskt Rockarkiv, Lena Bruun and Jacob Westergaard
Madsen from the Danmark Rockmuseum, Petter Myyr from Rockheim in Norway and Pekka Nissilä,
Populaarimusiikin museo in Finland.
Brilliant Corners 27
Western art music tradition, with parallel practices ranging from standard repertoire, scales
and exercises, performance examinations, histories and analyses that celebrate the ‘Great’
works (and men) of the jazz tradition.8 In many respects, the establishment of instrumental
examinations for jazz (such as the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music graded
examinations), institutional jazz archives (from Darmstadt to the Smithsonian Institute),
competitions and foundation awards (including the Jazz at Lincoln Center’s ‘Essentially
Ellington’ programme, projects funded by the National Endowment for the Arts, and the
Dankworth Prize for composition), have added to the canonicity of jazz and promoted
the vision of jazz either as ‘America’s Classical Music’ or, in a European setting, as an
autonomous art form detached from the supposedly corrupting influence of the commercial
music industry. This approach is typified by the comments of Walter Turkenburg, President
of the International Association of Schools of Jazz:
We cannot escape the popified world but we can step out of it temporarily. If you play jazz
or even if you listen really well to jazz, you are in another world. Interaction, creativity,
personal skills and identity are all at work in jazz, both as a listener and a player. All
these aspects do not match with the popified world in which interaction, creativity and
individuality are gone. (Turkenburg, 2006)
Although seeking to advocate for the power of jazz as an educational tool and the appeal
of the music to educators, the underlying rhetorical strategy within this statement is to
separate jazz from the ‘popified’ world, which is portrayed as lacking in creativity and
individuality. By separating jazz from the world of rock and pop music, jazz mythologies
are re-inscribed and the music is presented as transcendent and autonomous – enabling
us to ‘step outside’ the corrupting world – and to be more akin to romantic ideals of
classical music. Re-mythologising occurs within the context of graded examinations as
well. For example, ABRSM examinations, despite their innovations and encouragement
to bring more students into jazz, serve to place jazz within the environment of grading
structures which enable comparison to classical music. Whilst this is not necessarily a bad
thing, the objectifying of musicianship skills, and a desire for comparability, rides against
the popular myths of musicians being outsiders, non-conformists who have unique and
enigmatic voices.
A further dichotomy in jazz education is often marked in national or geographical
terms. Prouty (2012), for example, discusses the politics of the 7,000-strong membership
organisation, the International Association of Jazz Education (IAJE), which folded in 2008,
and partially blames the organisation’s failure to recognise the international spread of jazz
education for its ultimate demise (Prouty, 2012, pp. 156–62). In his book, Is Jazz Dead? (Or
Has It Moved to a New Address?), Stuart Nicholson (2005) explores the development of
jazz education in the US and Europe. Nicholson suggests that, in Europe, the development
of jazz education has worked more in parallel with local and national cultures, thus creating
an environment where the music can be studied not as an African American canonical
art form but as an expression of localised identity, a platform for experimentation and
self-discovery. In Nicholson’s view, jazz education in the US has become standardized
and formulaic whereas, in Europe, the refusal to reify jazz and revere a singular tradition
has led to jazz education becoming much more fluid and nuanced by local and regional
characteristics (Nicholson, 2005, pp. 99–127). As an educator working in the UK, I am
8
For a critique of this see, for example, Ake (2002), Nicholson (2005) and Whyton (2010b).
28 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
flattered by Nicholson’s positive analysis of the European jazz education scene. However,
as attractive as it might be to offer Europe as the home of creativity and innovation, I would
argue that the suggestion that jazz educational methods develop solely within geographical
boundaries is too simplistic and does not address the variety of educational institutions,
pedagogical philosophies and associated teaching methods at play in Europe and America
today. In the US, for example, one only needs to compare Nicholson’s critique of music
schools such as Berklee with the educational philosophies of educators such as David
Borgo and David Ake to get a sense of the differences in approach to teaching and learning
jazz.9 Borgo, for example, employs more of a ‘bottom-up’ approach to jazz pedagogy in
advocating a concept of learning and teaching that is informed by ecological psychology.
His work resists traditional assumptions of master-student relationships, and sets out a
participatory method of teaching and learning that is both organic and experiential in
approach. Here, Borgo blends methods of formal and informal learning and debunks
several myths about jazz practice, particularly linked to hero worshipping and the supposed
need for highly stylised approaches to jazz improvisation. The writings and methods
of performer-scholars such as Borgo and Ake offer a refreshing contrast to the types of
study that focus purely on the acquisition of musical skills and ignore the interdisciplinary
potential of jazz education.
The development of jazz in education and surrounding tensions and dichotomies has led
to a position where, today, jazz occupies an interesting and contested cultural space. As a
disciplinary field, jazz studies (or the new jazz studies as it has been described) can now
boast an array of perspectives and methodologies which can enable musicians, educators
and researchers to rethink the development of jazz in education. At the same time, they can
understand the potential benefits of working within a field that has changed and adapted
over time and infiltrated different disciplinary contexts, from music to film, and literature
to politics. Indeed, I argue that the false dichotomies and potential negative aspects of jazz
education, including the dominance of ‘lone’ scholars working in contrasting disciplinary
environments, perceived geographical differences, inherited romanticised and journalistic
codes, and anti-educational stances, can be viewed as opportunities both to explore music
in higher education from a unique cultural perspective and to develop innovative and
ground-breaking initiatives that consider research, education, and professional practice as
integrated and interdisciplinary activities. Over the last 10 years, I would argue that there
has been an increased understanding of the value and importance of jazz in education which
is not only evidenced through the presence and breadth of jazz within a range of higher
education programmes but also through an increase in large-scale funded research projects,
subject networks, academic conferences, education projects and publications for jazz which
span a range of disciplines from musicology to cultural studies. In particular, several large-
scale national and trans-national research projects have been funded within this timeframe
which use jazz as a central part of their research investigation, including the SSHRC-funded
Improvisation, Community and Social Practice, the ESRC-funded Investigating Musical
Performance: Comparative Studies in Advanced Musical Learning, the AHRC-funded
What is Black British Jazz? and the HERA-funded Rhythm Changes: Jazz Cultures and
9
See, for example, Ake (2002) and Borgo (2007).
Brilliant Corners 29
European Identities.10 These projects have examined the changing role of jazz, attitudes
to performance, and the music’s ability to influence and adapt to social change and, in the
majority of cases, have sought to integrate theoretical and practice-based research methods
and used different disciplinary perspectives on jazz to promote an interdisciplinary mode of
investigation. As an example, Investigating Musical Performance offered a holistic view of
learning and the development of musical excellence. Launched in 2006, the two-year project
was conceived as a multi-site, multi-methods research project that focused on different
types of music provision in four higher education institutions (the Institute of Education,
University of London; University of York; Leeds College of Music; and the Royal Scottish
Academy of Music and Drama, Glasgow).11 As a longitudinal study, Investigating Musical
Performance used a mixture of qualitative and quantitative methods and a comparative
approach to research into advanced musical performance to investigate how classical,
popular, jazz and Scottish traditional musicians could deepen and develop their learning
about performance in undergraduate, postgraduate and wider music community contexts.
From a jazz perspective, the research project provided some crucial data on the background
of ‘classical’ and jazz (‘non-classical’) musicians and their different paths to formal music
education, and also explored current values, attitudes and interests among targeted groups
of learners. For example, the project explored the relationship between students and their
mentors of musical role models, the relationship between improvisation, notation and
generative practice, the widespread desire for musicians to discover a distinctive voice
and, more broadly, the different ways in which institutional cultures can be perceived to be
inspirational, promoting a positive learning environment. Ultimately, Investigating Musical
Performance encouraged new insights into the way in which different musicians learn
and enabled researchers to consider and analyse the politics of genre and place in higher
education music today.12 Here, these findings not only have a relevance to jazz studies
but could also clearly benefit the development of classical, traditional and popular music
programmes. Most significantly, Investigating Musical Performance demonstrated the
inherent benefits of cross-genre working and developed an in-depth understanding of the
quality of different musical traditions and pedagogical approaches.
The uncomfortable cultural place occupied by jazz, and the range of disciplinary
perspectives on music, offers educators the opportunity to question the grounds on which
jazz has been organised within institutional settings to date and to evaluate the creative
potential of jazz in different social contexts and learning environments. The variety of
perspectives – or ‘Brilliant Corners’ (to borrow Thelonious Monk’s album title) – in jazz
education at present provide us with an opportunity to engage with the changing cultural
status of music and the dichotomies and political debates that surround jazz in educational
settings. Through innovative research projects, we can make connections between the
development of jazz education and broader cultural dynamics and begin to unpack the
political and ideological discourses that have helped to shape the attitudes and value
systems of musicians, students and educators in jazz since the 1960s.
10
For overviews of these specific research programmes, see www.improvcommunity.
ca, http://imerc.org/research_imp.php, www8.open.ac.uk/researchprojects/blackbritishjazz/, and
www.rhythmchanges.net. The IMP final report and major findings can be found via the following link:
http://imerc.org/papers/imp/imp_final_report.pdf (all accessed 12 May 2012).
11
The RSAMD is now the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.
12
From a jazz perspective, examples of this integrated approach can be evidenced in studies
including Parsonage et al. (2007) and Borgo (2007).
30 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
References
Introduction
Popular music in higher education has always thrived as a sort of cottage industry within the
wider higher education music community. following its emergence in the us in the 1950s,1
popular music has been almost entirely shunned by the academy in its home country.
the picture is quite different in the uK, scandinavia and Australia, whence the majority
of literature on the subject derives (Abramo, 2011); for this reason i will be focusing
principally on these countries in this chapter. in the uK a small number of independent
institutions and university departments have been teaching popular music for around 30
years – its genesis in the uK was in the mid-1980s. cloonan observes that ‘the development
of PMs [popular music studies in higher education] is inextricably linked to the rise of
popular music itself’ (cloonan, 2005, p. 78) and has been on the increase for decades.
However, as Krikun points out:
Although the academic study of popular music as a social, cultural, political, musical,
technological, and economic phenomenon has begun to flourish in undergraduate and
graduate courses, the teaching of popular music performance and composition is a rarity.
(Krikun, 2009, p. 82)
Krikun also acknowledges that ‘the debate over the role of popular music in the college
music curriculum is not a new one’ (2009, p. 82), tracing discussions back to as early
as 1937 in the us (2009, p. 79), when the popular music of the day would have been what
is today instead pigeonholed as jazz (which has now, as classical music, been canonized
and deemed worthy of scholarly attention by most if not all conservatoires). A significant
moment for popular music performance in higher education came with the opening of
Berklee college of Music in Boston, Massachusetts in 1945 (then schillinger House);
while Berklee is probably the world’s most recognizable brand in popular music education
worldwide, it remains an island in the us.
in this chapter i will look at four aspects of popular music performance in higher
education. The first task will be to define further what popular music is; second is the
question of what the aims popular music performance in higher education might be; a third
point concerns what and how learners are studying in order to realise these aims; and a final
key area is to do with how universities teach people to teach popular music – that is, popular
music education. At present (in the us especially) a movement is gathering momentum to
1
i am choosing to denote popular music as that which is primarily commercial in nature and
which originated in tandem with the emergence of teen culture in the us in the 1950s. for further
exploration of this, see frith, s. (1984). The Sociology of Youth, ormskirk: causeway Press limited.
34 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
learn about how this latter objective might be and is being achieved; scholars and musicians
from around the world are thus currently in a phase of what might be termed popular
music education. Meanwhile, throughout the UK, Scandinavia, Argentina and Australia,
universities are largely just getting on with the business of educating students in popular
music performance and the US, through its National Association for Music Education
(NAfME), is noticeably stand-off-ish, still at a stage of observing the phenomenon from a
distance and prodding it with a stick to see how it behaves.
Frith (1996, p. 42) suggests that popular music is any music that is not of the Western
art or classical tradition, and that is not folk music. He also points to the significance of
the microphone in the rise of popular music (Frith, 1996, p. 187); without it there would
have been no amplification of voices or instruments, no recording and, without these, no
consumerist pandemic of purchasing and (latterly and increasingly) freely downloading
music. Current trends in the UK music market point towards a significant rise in ticket sales
for large-scale live musical events at arena venues such as the O2 in London – popular
music, live as recorded, has always depended on amplification. Several other technological
developments during the twentieth century saw to the epic rise of popular music as a
phenomenon of mass culture – shellac and then vinyl records, radios, hi-fi, television,
the internet, etc. Popular music is music that is available to and, unavoidable for, most
people, which is partly why it is called ‘popular’ – it is music of the populace, of the
masses (Adorno, 1991) with which a majority of people are familiar. Popular music implies
(although is not restricted to) particular types of instrumentation, including electric guitar,
drum kit, electric bass, electronic keyboard, and voice. There is also a tacit understanding
among the music education community of what is meant by ‘popular music’. When Lucy
Green’s seminal book How Popular Musicians Learn was published in 2002, everyone
knew what sort of musicians and what sort of music she was referring to, although
a literalist might have been prompted to wonder how greatly the learning strategies of
popular musicians differ from those of, say, unpopular musicians! Semantics, though, lie at
the core of current issues in popular music in higher education and, for this reason, I would
like briefly to discuss some of the terminology in use in the field.
Students at the Queensland Conservatorium at Griffith University in Brisbane,
Australia can enrol on the undergraduate Bachelor of Popular Music degree programme.
The University of Southern California’s Thornton School of Music offers a Bachelor of
Music degree in Popular Music Performance. Other institutions, however, appear to shy
away somewhat from the word ‘popular’. For instance, the UK is home to the Academy
of Contemporary Music and the Institute of Contemporary Music Performance. When
‘contemporary’ is considered in the context of classical music it suggests the playing
of up-to-date music in the ‘classical’ tradition, written by living or recently deceased
composers and performed by the more avant-garde of classically trained musicians. When
‘contemporary’ is applied to popular music, however, it seems to capture – notionally at
least – the very essence of what is so important about that music – it is the music of the
present day, that is highly relevant to a large number of people comprising today’s society.
Paul Kirkham, Managing Director of the Institute for Contemporary Music Performance,
has said that the Institute is thus named specifically in order to maintain its focus on the
present and the relevant.
Popular Music in Higher Education 35
The UK also plays host to the Brighton Institute of Modern Music and its sister college
the Bristol Institute of Modern Music. When considered in a traditional music education
paradigm, ‘modern’ suggests that which is around 100 years old, evoking Webern,
Schoenberg and early Serialism. However, both BIMMs offer Bachelor’s Degrees in
Professional Musicianship, advertised on the colleges’ websites as ‘contemporary music
degrees’ (BIMM, 2010) – emphasizing again the focus of popular music education on that
which is current. Newcastle University’s International Centre for Music Studies offers
a programme more broadly named the ‘BMus in Popular and Contemporary Music’.
Marketing materials for this programme steer strongly towards the contemporary and away
from the popular, listing a range of more obscure, ‘niche’ or ‘cult’ bands and artists, and
enticing candidates who ‘can name check some of these acts’ (Newcastle University, 2010).
This programme, as others, seems to emphasize that which is hip, current and influential,
over that which is ‘merely’ popular.
‘Vernacular’ is another term that crops up repeatedly in the discussion of popular music.
Newcastle University’s BMus in Popular and Contemporary Music contains modules on
‘Understanding Vernacular Musics’ and ‘Vernacular Music Skills’. Paul Fleet (Fleet, 2010),
Director of the programme, explains that, by the use of the word vernacular, ‘we mean we are
inclusive of all music since the recording era’, tying in with Frith’s notions of popular music
being that whose wide availability has come about through the broadcast media. O’Flynn
(2006, p. 140) also suggests the use of ‘vernacular’ as an alternative or complementary term
for ‘popular’ or ‘contemporary’ music. He suggests that the word might ‘embrace a range of
musical genres and practices that people have access to throughout their lives’. This is rather
like Paul Kirkham’s defence of ‘contemporary’ to describe the music taught and learned
at the Institute. For O’Flynn, ‘vernacular’ is a word that captures much of the essence
of the music on which these colleges and departments focus. He writes that ‘the greater
our ability to map the matrix of everyday and vernacular aspects to music production and
consumption, the greater chance we have of inspiring our students to venture out on their
own diverse musical journeys’ (O’Flynn, 2006, p. 145). Rooting popular music education
in the experiences of learners is a topic to which I return below.
Institutions often talk in mixed (and perhaps even confused) terms about exactly what it
is they offer. For instance, the Institute of Contemporary Music Performance offers a BMus
in Popular Music Performance, and also claims to be ‘Europe’s finest school of modern
music’ (Institute of Contemporary Music Performance, 2012). It seems that the music
about which we are all talking is described imperfectly by any of these terms, but that by
considering possible combinations and interpretations thereof we are able broadly to define
the music with which these degree programmes are dealing. Of course, a key attribute of
any popular, contemporary, vernacular or modern music is the inherent fickleness of its
distribution, reception, appreciation and perceived cultural value; those musics to which
the terms apply are as fluid as the terms themselves. In order to know precisely what it is
on which we focus, perhaps it would be best to do as Steven Tyler advises on the classic
Aerosmith song ‘Let the Music do the Talking’ (Perry, 1980). However, a chapter such as
this requires a level of generalisation and is confined to the printed word; I hope that this
brief discussion has adequately begun to set the scene.
36 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Music and other arts often seem to struggle to justify their existences and relevance to
governmental departments and educational establishments. As Bennett (2007, p. 179)
acknowledges, ‘there is global debate concerning the effectiveness of performance-based
education and training in relation to issues such as continued transformation within the
cultural sector, the creative and professional needs of practitioners, funding and policy
initiatives’. The need for a raison d’être is felt perhaps all the more keenly by programmes
and institutions in popular music, for, as Cloonan (2005, p. 87) writes, the study of popular
music in higher education is ‘still treated with a certain amount of condescension’. He
suggests that even the more acceptable and scholarly Popular Music Studies may be
undervalued (2005, p. 81–2), citing, for example, the fact that the title of ‘Professor of
Popular Music’ had (as of 2005) been bestowed on only two academics in the UK– Sheila
Whitely and Allan F. Moore; others specializing in popular music have been recognised
with professorships in umbrella categories, such as Cultural Studies or Music. A possible
contributory factor to this under-recognition of some of the country’s leading popular music
specialists in higher education is probably that so much of popular music education in the
UK takes place at small, private institutions that do not use the traditional academic career
path structure or accompanying system of role titles. Another reason might be that the
culture of academia is perhaps somewhat anathematic to many exponents of popular music
performance; since the majority of popular music education historically has existed outside
of the academy, it would be perhaps rather at odds with the traditional culture of the music
to reward achievement with academic accolades; it would be akin to acknowledging the
achievements of fine scholars by giving them Grammy awards.
The music industry in many highly developed countries is a vital part of export markets
and GDP, and the music education infrastructure plays an important role in supporting these:
The UK has much to be proud of in relation to its music education. Provision is arguably
the best in the world – and it makes a major contribution to the strength of the creative
industries, which continue to play a crucial role in the UK economy. (Hallam & Creech,
2010, p. 329)
It makes sense to keep so strong and vibrant a tranche of a nation’s economic health alive
and well. Articles, books and advertising campaigns abound in which cases are put for
continuing a dynamic and exciting artistic and cultural life for the citizens of nations, towns
and colleges – here is not the place to indulge such self-justification: suffice to say that ‘there
are persuasive arguments for saying that in a society in which music is almost omnipresent,
the informed citizen must be aware of its power’ (Cloonan, 2005, p. 90). This may be all
the more true in the case of that most omnipresent of musics – popular music. Clearly,
an important objective of music in higher education is to prepare students for careers by
providing the relevant industries with the workforce of the future. While some may (and
indeed do) question the need to educate musicians formally, research reassuringly finds
that musicians’ ‘ability to obtain a livelihood … [does] seem to be intimately associated
with learning experiences’ (Coulson, 2010, p. 255). What it means to be a professional
musician is often unique to individuals, as each carves his or her own niche in the field
(Bennett, 2008; Cottrell, 2004; Smith, 2013a). The requisite skill-set for professional
musicians is, therefore, fluid, highly personal and forever evolving, so Coulson rightly
concedes that there are ‘complex connections between music education and learning … and
Popular Music in Higher Education 37
[popular music has] a rich history that is tied to our social political, cultural, and economic
history. What it lacks, in comparison to, say, Western European music, is the passage of
sufficient time to determine which practices, structures, persons, and places have most
influenced the genre.
Popular music has now been around for long enough, however, that it is beginning
to be canonized. Function bands have huge sets of staple popular songs that one must
learn in order to be able to play weddings, birthday parties, etc. Naturally, these lists are
somewhat fluid and susceptible to changes in fashion, taste and preference; however, to
deny popular music any recognizable canon is to miss an important feature of the music
(Reynolds, 2011). Perhaps popular music also differs from Western art music in that it
features a more democratized, individualized type of canonization, where the ‘great works’
paradigm applies – if at all – in thousands and millions of unique personal opinions and
narratives, for popular music is clearly very important to people as they go about their lives
(Herbert, 2011; DeNora, 2000). There is a balance to be struck at all institutions offering
popular music performance, between the creative and the curative, for a vital characteristic
of popular music is its perpetual novelty. Popular music must be constantly created, not
merely curated as has largely become the case with the mostly interpretive tradition of
education in classical (and much jazz) music. This right-here-right-now feature of popular
music is problematic for higher education, which is excellent at canonizing knowledge,
filtering it, and passing on.
Discussions at recent conferences, such as the 8th Suncoast Music Education Research
Symposium at the University of South Florida in February 2011 and the 3rd Reflective
Conservatoire conference at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in March 2012,
indicate that educators involved in popular music in higher education are keenly aware of
the preservation/creation dialectic. In the undergraduate popular programmes at the Institute
of Contemporary Music Performance (the Institute), Berklee College of Music, and the
Thornton School of Music at the University of Southern California, the shared philosophy
is that students need as broad a range of skills and experiences as possible in order to
prepare them for the fickle and unpredictable world of the working musician. This approach
38 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
has arisen from the increasing acceptance among the music education community that
‘a narrow focus does not demonstrably produce graduates with a range of skills and
abilities that equip them well for the their inevitable futures’ (Lebler et al, 2009, p. 243).
Conversely, such a set of graduates is not demonstrably produced by a broader focus either,
although longitudinal research is underway at the Institute and the Thornton School of
Music to monitor the perceived success among students of the new focus in popular music
performance programmes in higher education. The Thornton School’s ‘Program Overview’
summarizes the widely espoused view among HE institutions that this may prove to be the
case, stating that the programme ‘aspires to address the dynamic and changing landscape
of the music profession’ (USC, 2010, p. 1) by equipping students with a wide skill-set. This
sort of vision for the education of students in popular music addresses a need identified by
Bennett (2007, p. 179) who finds that ‘acceptance of, and preparation for a more holistic
career will enable many more graduates to find their own musotopia’ – their individual
niche of professional and artistic success. Thus maintaining students’ broad perspectives
while in the college environment will hopefully prepare them for an environment in which
‘the most reliable feature of musicians’ careers is their unpredictability’ and in which
musicians frequently ‘combine several types of work, and may spend considerable time
inventing new ways to create and present music’ (Coulson, 2010, p. 260).
Terrence Gregory, Programme Leader for the BMus programme at the Institute,
has described the approach that he takes to curriculum design as that of a ‘pedagogy
of employability’ (in conversation with the author, 2010). The BMus programme at the
Institute requires all first- and second-year students to take classes in Harmony and Theory,
Aural and Transcribing, Styles Studies (techniques of, for example, funk, disco, metal),
History of Popular Music, Music Technology, Keyboard proficiency, Music Reading, Music
Technology, Songwriting (sic.), Music Business (Employability Skills), and Arranging
& Composing. At the Thornton School, requirements are similarly broad; additionally,
compulsory Piano Proficiency classes are joined by Drumset Proficiency classes as these
are considered equally valuable – those students sufficiently proficient in either instrument
are required instead to take classes in guitar or voice.
In the final year of the Institute’s BMus programme, students are offered a Level-Six
qualification (on a par with modules taken on the third and final year of an undergraduate degree
in the UK) in instrumental teaching. Each year over 80% of students choose to study for the
teaching certificate, perceiving that this may provide them with an advantage in a competitive
market; the remaining 20% instead write a longer dissertation and stage a live music event.
Two other key features of the final year of this BMus programme are the Directed Instrumental
Skills (DIS) and Individual Instrumental Skills (IIS) modules. Musicians involved in popular
musics are often very used to collaboration among peers and to self-direction, so the two-
semester DIS course serves to provide students with the chance to interact, often for the first
time, with professional musical directors. Students engage in workshops with MDs of musical
theatre productions from London’s West End, work with singer-songwriters, directors for
big-name pop acts with successful international careers, and in recording studios creating
advertising jingles for television or radio. In addition to the requirements of the programme,
final-year students are afforded opportunities to audition for various promoters and agencies,
such as annual auditions for an international cruise operator. It has long been suspected by
those teaching in this sector (usually some of the very same people working professionally
in the sector) that versatility is more important to a career musician than ‘mere’ virtuosity.
Indeed, Coulson (2010, p. 267) finds that ‘those with the most opportunities for acquiring
musical capital have a better chance of becoming professional musicians’.
Popular Music in Higher Education 39
Gaunt and Papageorgi (2012, p. 268) suggest that musicians leaving formal education to go
out into the professional world will need to rely on a skill-set that includes ‘tenacity, artistic
imagination, personal confidence, the ability to recognise opportunities and to generate
work from these, as well as refined musical skills’. Westerlund (2006: 123) feels that the
onus is indeed on institutions of higher education to lead the way, finding that ‘university
environments, in particular, should encourage peer-directed learning and students’ own real-
life projects within their institutional borders’. Lebler et al assert that ‘as societies become
more complex and information-rich, people will need to constantly re-think, be adaptable,
and develop new problem-solving strategies for new challenges. Students, therefore, need to
develop keen reflective thinking strategies (Lebler et al, 2009, p. 242). As models of music,
education and arts provision change, so institutions seek to empower students to cope with
unpredictable and challenging respective futures. In January of 2010, the US’s College
Music Society held an inaugural summit for its new Committee on Music Entrepreneurship
Education. The committee’s publicity material lists five goals, the fifth of which seems to
capture the essence of what the higher education establishment is driving at in this area; the
committee aims to ‘promote understanding of how entrepreneurship can act as a catalyst for
the career aspirations of students involved in music programs across the country’ (CMS, 2010).
The imperative to keep entrepreneurship in mind and to focus teaching, curriculum and
lesson design, and students’ minds towards it is tangible internationally, aiming to help
students engage critically with their own futures. Students are on the cutting edge of today’s
music scene as consumers and producers and, as such, are perfectly positioned to craft the
scene(s) of tomorrow, reflecting and effecting the musical landscape of the future.2
2
A lone dissenter presented his case at the 3rd Reflective Conservatoire conference at
the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in March 2012; Atar Shafighian, from the Institute of
Contemporary Music Performance, suggested that, contrary to the zeitgeist, the true role of music
performance in higher education is to train musicians to become highly elite specialists, desirable
for their unique, narrow, finely tuned skills, thus set apart from the run-of-the-mill, jack-of-all-trades
musicians with which the popular music world is already teeming.
40 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
The Institute offers a Foundation Degree in Creative Musicianship (FdA), which focuses
primarily on students’ creativity and entrepreneurship:
The aims of the programme are to develop each individual’s unique ‘creative voice’,
their performance skills to industry standard, and equip them with the entrepreneurial and
business skills required to capitalise on their creative abilities. (Institute of Contemporary
Music Performance, 2010, p. 24)
The modules on this programme fulfil quite explicitly Gaunt & Papageorgi’s (2010)
criteria of addressing ‘tenacity, artistic imagination, personal confidence, [and] the ability
to recognise opportunities’ among undergraduate students. Arguably, completion of any
programme of study in higher education tests students’ tenacity; those without this attribute
will be far less likely to succeed. The criterion of developing artistic imagination is met
through a very strong focus on creativity – personally and collaboratively. There are
compulsory weekly modules entitled Creating Music, Creativity in Context, and Creative
Music Technology in the first year, leading to a Collaborative Project in the second; this
Project requires Institute students to work with students from their own or other colleges, in
areas such as fashion, art or dance. The design of the curriculum is geared strongly towards
helping students to realise the utility of skills acquired in the supporting pathway that runs
throughout the two years comprising classes in Technique (on one’s primary instrument),
Music Theory, Aural Perception, Arranging, and guitar or vocals and as a second study. As
to the criteria of personal confidence and recognition of opportunities, in the first year of the
programme around one quarter of the weekly timetable is devoted to a pathway called The
Music Industry, with classes on Music Business Practice and Management, and Marketing
& Promotion. In the second year of the programme this pathway is replaced by The Music
Entrepreneur, which includes modules on Interpersonal Skills, Practical Marketing and
Promotion, New Business Models, Career Development Plan, and Work Experience. These
modules involve lectures, reflective thinking, group-work and writing, and aim to put
students’ futures firmly in their own hands. It is hoped that this programme will graduate
students who possess a level of professional musical versatility, with a particular focus on
creativity – both in terms of intra-musical skills and of career/business savoir-faire.3
As musicians in popular music have traditionally forged (and continue to forge) their
own paths, mostly without the assistance of a formal education in this field, programmes
such as this may not be attractive to the most single-minded and visionary of students (I
think of the case one current FdA guitar student at the Institute who has carved himself a
niche working very busily as that rarest of breeds – a session musician; he almost never
attends classes, and uses the student-body to expand his network of contacts and employers.
It seems like he plays with everyone in bands outside of college!). Conversely, such
programmes may be to other candidates precisely the nurturing environment that they feel
they need, in which they can meet prospective collaborators and advance their creative
potential, using the college as the place to experiment and hone their approach before
abandoning the safety net of an institution. As the music business and industries continue to
redefine themselves, it remains an aim of institutions offering popular music performance
programs to produce graduates who are in the best possible positions to negotiate and
3
For a further discussion of this FdA programme, see Smith, G. D. (2013b) ‘Pedagogy for
employability in a Foundation Degree (FdA) in Creative Musicianship: Introducing peer collaboration’
in H. Gaunt & H. Westerlund (Eds) Collaboration in Higher Music Education. Farnham: Ashgate.
Popular Music in Higher Education 41
indeed to define the new and emerging terrain – innovative and flexible programme design
is vital to achieving this goal.
Lebler reports on one of the more progressive approaches to incorporating informal
learning practices into higher education. On the Bachelor of Popular Music degree at the
Queensland Conservatorium he has embedded ‘innovative learning practices that reflect
popular music-making practices outside structured learning environments’ (Lebler, 2007,
p. 207), where much of students’ work is self-directed (Lebler et al., 2009). Such practices
are to be found in other institutions, but few, if any, have adopted these practices as
wholeheartedly as Griffith Conservatorium. The roles of teachers must inevitably shift to fit
new pedagogical approaches, and tutors are increasingly positioned as guides and mentors.
Lebler finds that:
there is value in changing the function of the teacher to one of co-creating and co-assessing
rather than as instructor and final arbiter of the quality of the learning products … the role
is more nuanced than transmission and credentialising.(Lebler, 2007, p. 213)
Industry Connectivity
In line with Westerlund’s advice (above), that the higher education experience should
prepare students for work in the real world, there is a strong current of connection to the
music business and industries embedded in popular music programmes, some of which I
have already described. This connectivity often begins with students working with peers
in different institutions, encouraging collaboration among those who will become the next
generation of music and wider arts professionals. At Berklee College of Music, Kenneth
Brass chairs the Professional Music department and is as keen an advocate as one could
imagine for the networking and skill-ing of the professional musicians of tomorrow.
Berklee’s Professional Music Major programme offers students the opportunity to record,
produce and release CDs through two in-house record labels – Revelation Records (for
jazz) and Heavy Rotation Records (for rock and hip-hop) – along with ensuring students’
competence with industry-standard computer music technologies. The Thornton School of
Music offers students courses and collaborations throughout the University’s departments
(such as working in conjunction with students at the university’s School of Cinematic Arts).
The Institute has partnerships with various other establishments, including the School of
Audio Engineering, London College of Fashion and the University of East London, which
benefit students by helping them to develop a broad network of contacts beyond their
own institution.
Direct music industry connectivity is a central component of the one-year Professional
Diploma in Songwriting at the Institute:
Specifically designed for aspiring songwriters, this course provides the perfect learning
and development experience for students looking to develop a songwriting career in the
music industry. (Institute of Contemporary Music Performance, 2010a, p. 70)
This programme has a clear and specific focus – it is designed to help students learn the
craft of writing and recording songs, and the skill of presenting these to the right people
in ways for the songs to be musically and commercially successful artefacts. So essential
to the course is its overt connection to music markets that it has attracted sponsorship
from Columbia Records. Sophie Daniels, the Programme Leader, leads a successful career
in commercial songwriting; most other tutors on the course have similar credentials as
writers and/or producers, currently working in the music business. Students are each paired
with a Mentor, selected from among the specialist, visiting faculty to match the learning
needs of the students. Students visit Mentors at their recording studios, production offices,
performance venues, etc., gaining valuable insights into current practices in the music
business and often developing close working relationships with their Mentors that develop
beyond the programme.
The Thornton School of Music develops real-world connectivity for student musicians
through projects like its summer Grammy Camp, where high school students can study
at the university on a two-week summer school programme sponsored and supported by
the Grammy Foundation in conjunction with the university. This kind of clearly visible
connection of a popular music department to such a key organisation in popular music is
surely attractive to prospective and current students. In turn, it lends the School and its
undergraduate popular music programme greater credibility within the industry. Schools
such as the Thornton School and the Institute are also sponsored by and partnered with
various musical instrument and information technology manufacturers and suppliers, a
Popular Music in Higher Education 43
system that can work well for educational and business institutions alike: students see big-
name firms putting their stamps of approval on a college, and the instrument companies
in turn develop a customer base by seeing thousands of students playing and hopefully
developing preferences for the brands that they use every day. This sort of association in
education is of course nothing new or indigenous to popular music, as Steinway & Sons,
for instance, has struck exclusive deals with several institutions to use only its pianos. It is
perhaps highly desirable that the boundaries between business and education are in some
ways fused, in order that students and teachers sense the relevance of education to the
professions for which students are being prepared.
What these various approaches and emphases have in common is a sense of the
importance of nurturing in students the skills of what Sennett (2012, p. 14) terms
‘dialogics’ – that is, skilful and deliberate attention and responsiveness to other people. In
one sense musicians have always developed these attributes, through playing together in
ensembles, but the broadening of the focus underlines the need for musicians to expand
their purviews and become able to operate in a multitude of contexts.
‘Music Education’
‘Music Education’ in higher education in the US tends to refer to the teaching of music
teachers, rather than to the teaching of music as it does elsewhere in the world. While this
area is not the primary focus of the chapter, it is important to dedicate some space to it as
much of the current debate concerning popular music in higher education is focused on
this topic. Mark (2007, p. xiv) writes that ‘as national needs and tastes have changed [in
the US], so has music in schools. Schools continually evolved, striving to keep up with
changes in society.’ While admirable, this statement may not be entirely true, at least as
far as popular music is concerned, for, as Krikun (2009, p. 87) notes, ‘one wonders when
popular music performance and composition will become an accepted part of the higher
education music curriculum’ – for students of both music and music education. Krikun
identifies key problems facing faculty on music education programmes to be ‘the lack of
popular music pedagogy in music teacher education and the difficulty of acquiring a rock
music curriculum’ (Krikun, 2009, pp. 78–9). It seems that educators in the US and around
the world could learn a good deal from practices in Scandinavian countries where often
‘no strict line of preference is drawn between the teaching of art, folk and popular music’
(Vakeva, 200, p. 126). Westerlund describes the situation in music education departments
in Finland:
The curriculum in the Sibelius Academy, University of Jyvaskyla and University of Oulu
requires that teachers exhibit competence in the use of the instruments commonly associated
with rock bands, as well as knowledge of studio techniques, making arrangements in
different popular music styles, and on-stage performance. (Westerlund, 2006, p. 119)
This is certainly not the case in the majority of music education departments around
the world.
The paucity of popular music pedagogy internationally and in the US in particular is
currently being addressed through several means, including the nationwide Association for
Popular Music Education in the US set up in 2010 by Chris Sampson at the University
of Southern California’s Thornton School of Music. This network aims to share expertise
44 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
among and beyond the circle of those involved with popular music in higher education. At the
International Society for Music Education (ISME)’s world conference in Beijing in August
of 2010, a panel convened to discuss popular music in education; most of the focus was on
developments in higher education. This was very well attended, unlike a seminar convened
at a National Association for Music Education (NAfME) gathering in Washington, DC in
April 2010 at which attendance barely entered double figures. The University of South
Florida has recently advertised two vacancies for assistant professors in music education
with an emphasis on understanding popular music education; that university’s Center for
Music Education Research also held a conference in February 2011 on ‘Popular Music
Pedagogy’. The University of Michigan began running occasional five-day workshops on
songwriting and working with rock as part of its summer master’s programs from 2011.
Songwriting courses are increasingly available at a variety of institutions as part of music
education degrees. Lucy Green’s 2002 book How Popular Musicians Learn: A Way Ahead
for Music Education has ignited and fuelled debate in this area, and John Kratus in 2007,
citing Gladwell (2000) predicted that music education system in the US may be at a ‘tipping
point’ in its collective attitude to popular music.
In Conclusion
There is a tangible sense of excitement and innovation around popular music in higher
education. Even the previously hugely resistant US music education system is beginning
to sit up, listen to the noise and creak into action. For this reason among others, scholars
currently working in the field are seeking constantly to develop new and specifically relevant
pedagogies and curricula for education in popular music. We are still trying to figure out
exactly what popular music education is (in part because popular music never sits still),
what purpose it serves, and what the best pedagogical models are and will be. The key thing
is that educators and academics in the field must not stop asking questions, keeping our ears
on the present and our eyes on the future. A hub of the ongoing curiosity and debate is the
biennial conference of the Institute of Contemporary Music Performance, which in 2012
titled its event ‘Rock and roles: Philosophy and sociology of popular music education’. I
would argue that it is incumbent upon music educators and music educator educators to
teach and to teach teaching in popular music with an emphasis on that which is current,
creative, relevant (to learners) and exploratory for all (Randles, 2011, p. 7).
The gauntlet is laid down for music educators by acid-jazz band Corduroy, who, in the
lyrics of their song ‘Evolver’ (Nelson-Smith, Addison & Addison, 1997) emphasise that for
those who cannot evolve ‘it’s the end of the line’.
An institution whose tutors appear to take Corduroy’s word to heart is the British
Academy of New Music in East London, where forward-thinking teachers and programme
leaders such as Matt Gooderson and Luke Hannam urge students to see themselves as
products or brands, negotiating the perpetually-shifting commercial musical landscape with
a mind-set encouraged to be nimbly self-reflective and evaluative of the surrounding musical
and market terrain. Gooderson’s students are challenged to see themselves as innovators,
creators and scheming outsiders, carefully planning their chance to shine; their task is not to
perpetuate and re-create existing musics, but to identify what is not here yet, invent it, and
bring that to the music world, hopefully achieving commercial success in doing so. This can
challenge the perceptions of many students, who would much rather slot into a niche in the
familiar music scene within which they already operate (Gooderson, 2012, in conversation
Popular Music in Higher Education 45
with the author). It seems likely the junction of music and business will be where some
of the most exciting futures lie for popular music in higher education. As Hammersley
(2012, p. 134) notes, ‘disaffected youth once used music to rebel – but nowadays they’re
more likely to disrupt old-style businesses’; in higher education, the most successful future
students and alumni should be doing both. The job of popular music educators in higher
education is to ensure that our students can thrive in a fast-moving, creative and innovative
paradigm where the best ideas in music and entrepreneurialism collide.
References
Hallam, S. & Creech, A. (2010). Where now. In S. Hallam & A. Creech (Eds), Music
education in the 21st century in the United Kingdom: Achievement, analysis and
aspirations. London: The Institute of Education, University of London.
Hammersley, B. (2012). Tech gets rebellious. Wired; UK Edition, 12 December, 134.
Herbert, R. (2011). Consciousness and everyday music listening: Trancing, dissociation,
and absorption. In D. Clarke & E. Clarke (Eds), Music and consciousness:
Philosophical, psychological, and cultural perspectives (pp. 295–308). Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
The Institute of Contemporary Music Performance (2012). Retrieved from http://www.
icmp.co.uk/.
The Institute of Contemporary Music Performance (2010). The Institute: Course
Prospectus 2011. London: The Institute of Contemporary Music Performance.
The Institute of Contemporary Music Performance (2010c) FD Course Structure. London:
The Institute of Contemporary Music Performance: Internal publication.
Karlsen, S. (2010). Boom town music education and the need for authenticity – informal
learning put into practice in Swedish post-compulsory music education. British Journal
of Music Education, 27(1), 35–46.
Kratus, J. (2007). Music education at the tipping point. Music Educators Journal, 94(2), 42–8.
Krikun, A. (2009). Mixing Memphis soul into the community college curriculum stew.
Journal of Popular Music Studies, 21(1), 76–89.
Lebler, D., Burt-Perkins, R. & Carey, G. (2009). What the students bring: examining
the attributes of commencing conservatoire students. International Journal of Music
Education, 27(3), 232–49.
Mark, M. (2007). Preface to the Third Edition. In M. L. Mark and C. L. Gary, A history of
American music education, Third Edition. Plymouth: Rowman and Littlefield Education.
Nelson-Smith, S., Addison, B. & Addison, S. (1997). ‘Evolver’ from Corduroy’s The New
You. Big Cat Records ABB139CD.
Newcastle University (2010). Publicity fly poster.
O’Flynn, J. (2006). Vernacular music-making and education. International Journal of
Music Education, 24(2), 140–47.
Randles, C. (2011). ‘What is a Good Musician?’ An analysis of student beliefs. Arts
Education Policy Review, pp. 112, 1–8.
Rennie, F. & Mason, R. (2004). The connection: Learning for the connected generation.
Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing, Inc.
Reynolds, S. (2011). Retromania: Pop culture’s addiction to its own past. London: Faber
and Faber.
Rodriguez, C. X. (2004). The broader perspective. In C. X. Rodríguez (Ed.), Bridging
the gap: Popular music and music education. Reston: The National Association for
Music Education.
Sennett, R. (2012). Together: The rituals, pleasures and politics of cooperation. London:
Allen Lane.
Smith, G. D. (2013a). I drum, therefore I am: Being and becoming a drummer. Farnham:
Ashgate Publishing.
Smith, G. D. (2013b). Pedagogy for employability in a Foundation Degree (FdA) in
Creative Musicianship: Introducing peer collaboration. In H. Gaunt & H. Westerlund
(Eds) Collaboration in higher music education. Farnham: Ashgate.
Stålhammar, B. (2003). Music teaching and young people’s own musical experience. Music
Education Research, 5(1), 61–8.
Popular Music in Higher Education 47
Introduction
The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland’s BA Scottish Music: Brief History and Context
Performance of traditional music in Scotland entered tertiary education for the first time
in 1996, when the rcs began its BAsM degree. the course was the result of several years
of work by a working party of musicians, folklorists, and ethnomusicologists who had
been asked to consider what scotland’s national conservatoire could do for performers
of scottish traditional music.2 the working party quickly concluded that a three-year
ordinary degree including both practical and academic studies would be a huge asset to
young traditional musicians. A broad base of contextual studies would help traditional
musicians prepare for portfolio careers expected to include performance, teaching, and
community work. A course review in 2000 led to an honours year, a specialist route for
Highland pipers,3 and a stream for those wishing to qualify for a Pgce course afterwards.
1
the authors have retained interviewees’ use of its former name in excerpts from interviews.
2
the working party was led by rita McAllister, and included Jo Miller, Andrew Hunter, Peggy
duesenberry, Margaret Bennett, and Allan Macdonald.
3
the piping stream is offered in conjunction with the national Piping centre in glasgow.
50 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
The timing of the new course was both artistically welcomed and politically astute for the
RCS. The 1990s were a time when political momentum for devolution was high; one year
after the course began, a referendum approved the formation of a new Scottish Parliament.
Artistically, a greater number of traditional musicians were becoming professional, in other
words, they were able to make a living through performance and teaching traditional music
in Scotland and around the world. These twin forces meant that recruitment to the course
has been unproblematic, and that the course has been a great benefit to the profile of the
Conservatoire as a whole.
Consultation for planning the new degree included wide correspondence, a visit
to University College Cork in Ireland, and meetings with a large number of traditional
musicians from all over Scotland. The new degree was unique in Scotland, and there were
no other traditional music degrees for performers in the United Kingdom at that time.
Planning also drew on the resources of the RCS staff and facilities, and there were efforts to
make some parallels with the training for Western classical musicians in the conservatoire.
Very few Scottish Music staff had any prior engagement with the conservatoire sector, and
there were few preconceptions about what a conservatoire degree should entail. There was,
and still is, a dearth of research on traditional music pedagogy. These factors meant course
designers were not tied to any concepts of ‘normal’ in conservatoire education, leading
to an imaginative and forward-looking curriculum that now influences wider curriculum
reform at the RCS.
The ethos of the BASM degree is summed up in its mission statement as
‘provid[ing] reflective, confident musicians who will have a breadth and depth of skill and
experience combined with a wide knowledge and understanding of Scottish traditional
music, and who will be capable of making valuable contributions as professional
performers, scholars, educators, innovators and tradition bearers.’ In practice, this has
meant a broad base of contextual, historical and theoretical studies4 as well as a number
of modules oriented to the real world of public performance: technology of sound systems
and the recording studio, business studies, techniques of teaching traditional music, and
touring. This breadth of study, when added to performance studies, is designed to prepare
students for a portfolio career involving performance, teaching and organising traditional
music. A study of graduates shows that this is how the majority are working (Miller &
Duesenberry 2007). Many of the academic components of the degree are closely focused on
the study of performance, and wide readings in ethnomusicology bring performance studies
into many academic classes.
One area of concern for course planners was that it seemed dangerous for single
institution such as the RCS to become an arbiter of ‘correct’ style, or that a single style
of performance receive too much attention compared to others. Solutions to this problem
have included weekly master classes or workshops led by traditional musicians from all
over Scotland and sometimes abroad, and work placements which have taken students into
many arenas not represented by RCS Scottish music staff. In addition, most students have
had more than one principal study tutor, and staffing has been arranged with both depth
and breadth of inspiration for students kept in mind. In 2000, principal study groups were
added as classes in which principal study tutors could use aural teaching for a small group
of students. These methods of course organisation have ensured breadth as well as depth in
Scottish music principal studies.
4
These include traditional music history and contextual studies, transcription and analysis,
folklore, fieldwork techniques, and an honours project often consisting of a written dissertation.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 51
Another area of concern was the balance between commercialism and the importance
of community in traditional music. Commercial opportunities are often more attractive to
the young musician ready to break out and make a name, but traditional music students
also value opportunities to work in the community, both as facilitators or teachers, and
as learners. Students choose their fieldwork projects, and many want to go back to older
members of their home community to learn more about a local tradition of music-making.
Work placements give students the chance to experience community music work including
either arts administration, or teaching in a variety of non-formal environments. On the
commercial side, work placements might also feature a week playing in a professional band,
or work in a recording studio. The Scottish Music Department also puts considerable effort
into getting students on tour, and on stage at events such as Glasgow’s Celtic Connections
festival. A significant number of RCS students have participated in the BBC Scotland
Young Traditional Musician of the Year competition, with winners receiving noteworthy
commercial opportunities.5
Two aspects of the course stand out as very new in a British conservatoire: firstly,
students can be admitted without being able to read music. Although most have some
musical literacy at entrance, it is sometimes very limited: many pipers arrive with no
experience of standard Western staff notation, having only used pipe notation, while singers
may have learned most of the repertoire without using music notation at all. Applicants have
to pass an aural test to show that they can learn new repertoire by ear. Academic studies
in the course provide opportunities for students not only to learn to read standard staff
notation but to become familiar with piping notation and drum scores. The course ensures
a quite critical and sophisticated approach to the use of notation in traditional music, and,
somewhat surprisingly, graduates of the course have spoken of transcription and analysis as
one of the most important modules for them (Adams, 2001).
The second new area in conservatoire education at the RCS was the use of groupwork
as an important method for performance training. Groupwork sessions allow students to
work in bands or in smaller groups such as duos, working towards assessed performances
either in the RCS or in public venues. This module has proved difficult to supervise, with
students being given the opportunity to explore for themselves both repertoire and ways
of putting together an ensemble. The small size of the cohort (c12 per year) means that
personalities can sometimes cause difficulties, and managing these issues has emerged
as a learning outcome. Unlike classical music ensemble classes that rely on scores and
strong staff leadership, traditional music groupwork classes involve students in creating
the sound, the combination of tunes, and both harmonic and rhythmic accompaniment.
Groupwork also ties in with student touring, which gives students an intensive experience
of the professional performer’s life.
The success of the RCS’s degree in Scottish music has inspired several other higher
education institutions to begin similar programmes, notably the BMus (Hons) in Folk and
Traditional Music at Newcastle University, and a Gaelic and traditional music degree offered
by the University of the Highlands and Islands at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig. When the University
of Limerick planned to add an undergraduate programme to its existing postgraduate
programmes in traditional music, staff came to visit the RCS to observe teaching methods.
The RCS’s Scottish traditional music degree remains the only UK conservatoire programme
for traditional musicians.
5
The BBC Radio Scotland Young Traditional Musician of the Year award provides winners
with high-profile performance opportunities including recording, touring and broadcast sessions. http://
www.handsupfortrad.co.uk/youngtrad/
52 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Contrasting Scottish Music and Western Classical Themes from the IMP Data
Over the years, parity of esteem between Scottish Music and the predominantly western
classical genre of the HE curriculum has emerged as an important aim of the RCS’s
Scottish Music degree, although at its outset there was intentional separation from the
classical side. In this section we consider some of themes from the data collected from
students on the RCS’s BASM programme that often contrast with those following western
classical programmes. These themes came to light in responses to the IMP questionnaire6
[n=13], in 3 in-depth one-to-one interviews7 and in focus groups conducted over the
course of the IMP project. Although some of them are common to the ‘other than classical’
grouping in the IMP project (jazz and pop in addition to Scottish traditional music), some
are distinctive to Scottish traditional music and its emerging place in the conservatoire
curriculum. The themes we explore in this section are: learning encounters in pre-HE years;
the place of informal learning both in and outside the Conservatoire; contrasting aural/
oral and notated traditions, attitudes towards practice; values towards the tradition and in
particular a creative and open-minded musical outlook; and general musical knowledge
and influences.
The evidence from the IMP data suggests differences between non-classical musicians and
their classical counterparts in early musical development, early experiences, influences
and teaching. In their responses to the IMP Questionnaire BASM students reported higher
average ages for when they began to play music of any kind as well as when they started
regular learning or engaged with systematic instruction on their ‘first study’ instrument. The
BASM students reported average ages of 8.0 and 10.8 respectively as opposed to 6.6 and 8.8
for classical musicians (Creech et al, 2008, p. 226). Approximately half the respondents to
the questionnaire reported starting musical study on a different instrument from their final
first study choice;8 this has also been noted in several studies of fiddlers and pipers (Grant
et al., 2010; Cooke, 1988). One BASM student changed her principal study from accordion
to Scottish song as late as the end of her first year as an undergraduate, continuing with
accordion as her second study instrument. Interviewee 1 (first study clarsach – a Celtic
harp) took up what over time became her first study instrumental discipline around the age
of 15, very much later than is usual for classical musicians. This interviewee’s experience
of being taught was not untypical: lacking a regular instrumental teacher, her musical
development flourished at a traditional music summer school. She said:
Well I played for a year by myself because I couldn’t find a teacher then I had a teacher
for a year and that’s when I did it in school, … and then my teacher retired. So for the
year before the Academy, I didn’t have a teacher then either. But I got into the Splore, it’s
6
Described in Chapter 11 of this volume, and reported in e.g., Andrea Creech et al.,
‘Investigating musical performance: Commonality and diversity among classical and non-classical
musicians’, Music Education Research, 10/2 (2008), 215–35.
7
Interviews conducted by Frances Morton in 2007.
8
This is comparable with results from the pop and jazz respondents: approximately one third of
those respondents started their musical study on a different instrument.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 53
part of Aberdeen International Youth Festival, and they do a traditional music course for
a week, and that was major in my life as well. I got settled into that after I’d played for a
year, and I did 3 years of that before I came to the Academy. It was quite daunting coming
to the Academy because I had no idea of standards or anything like that, of anybody. I just
thought ‘I’ll audition and see if I get in’.9
Many Scottish music students have had experiences of informal learning – in the family,
in the community, via non-formal education provision such as the Fèisean – that have been
equally or more important than formal music education. Perhaps this partially accounts for
the higher ratings for fun and enjoyment in music making from the non-classical musicians
(Creech et al., 2008, p. 230), consistent with Lucy Green’s (2001) findings in the popular
music field in which ‘popular musicians unfailingly report … extremely high levels of
enjoyment that accompany their music-making and music-learning activities’. The Fèisean
also give participants exposure to tradition bearers and well-known performers as teachers
and music leaders; in the IMP questionnaire, well-known performers scored highly on the
list of influencers at an early stage.
Vacation schools like the Fèisean or the Splore Scottish traditional music school
provide community-based, non-formal music instruction. Fèisean, which celebrate and
foster the music and song culture connected with the Gaelic language, under the lead
organisation Fèisean nan Gàidheal, are among the most successful music education
initiatives in Scotland, and celebrated 25 years of existence in 2008. A high percentage of
Fèis participants have reported that it had a very positive influence on their choice of further
study (Broad and France, 2005, p. 23).
Conservatoire students of classical music in the UK have often come up through a
highly structured graded examination system and have had experiences of teaching and
ensemble playing which give a clear sense of standards expected; most would know exactly
how ‘good’ they are in comparison with their peers. There is equivalent benchmarking
in the traditional music world, particularly in the discipline of piping with its clearly
delineated standards and expectations for competition pipers as well as in new ventures by
both RCS and Trinity College in providing graded examinations in traditional music. Those
from the traditional music specialist school at Plockton10 (the traditional music equivalent
to specialist schools such as Chethams or the Menuhin School) will have a clear idea of
standards. Very often students coming onto the BASM course already have considerable
experience of public performance in gigging, community, or summer-school settings.
However, not all come up through these routes and this interviewee had very little clear
idea of conservatoire expectations.
Our questionnaire, interview and focus group data provided many examples of how
informal learning is a vital element in the BASM programme, an element that students
value and that the wider conservatoire curriculum could share. Interviewee 3, for example,
9
This, and all other interviews cited were conducted in 2007.
10
Arguably, this initiative by Highland Region Local Authority would not have happened
without the RCS’s pioneering BASM.
54 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
estimated that half of her learning takes place in the formal Conservatoire settings and the
other half outside:
I would say nearly half in half. … But with singing that’s what I do, that’s how I learn most
of my songs, it’s off my own back.
By contrast, two staff members of a focus group estimated that from the classical side:
… the amount, the quantity of music, the proportion of stuff directed by your teacher or
through the music college, the orchestra, is much much higher.
Informal approaches, including both informal and non-formal learning and teaching
environments,11 have had a significant impact on the design of the RCS’s degree course for
Scottish traditional musicians. We define informal approaches to learning broadly, covering:
1. How non-formal learning situations are set up within the formal conservatoire
environment: an informal approach, for example, allows students considerable
freedom and autonomy in devising their own small ensemble or groupwork activity.
2. Where learning occurs: much informal learning happens outside the institutional
classroom or studio setting or outside the Conservatoire building itself.
3. The nature of the musical content: learning new material by ear via by swapping
tunes with peers, or learning from recordings, includes visual information and
stylistic content not necessarily found in a notated score.
4. Tacit knowledge of musicianship and professional practice (see Torff, 1999;
Cianciolo et al., 2006).
The relationship of informal learning of traditional music, within families and within
groups in the community, to learning in higher educational settings is an emerging
research area. Green (2008) discusses enculturation, extended immersion, and the role of
watching and imitating in both popular-music and traditional-music learning. Although
many ethnomusicologists have addressed learning, transmission and acquisition of
competence in the field (e.g., Brinner, 1995), just one collection examines performance
classes in non-western music at US higher education institutions (Solís, 2004). Sheridan
and Byrne’s article ‘Cèilidh culture and higher education’ (2008) focuses on both how
people learn and the means of transmission, noting that it is important for HE institutions
to try to create something of the informal ceilidh within the degree curriculum. These
essential learning environments and practices markedly distinguish informal community
learning from standard conservatoire learning and teaching approaches in Western
classical music.
11
Micheal Eraut (2000) gives a useful typology of learning, noting that ‘the term ‘informal is
associated with … dress, discourse, behavior, diminution of social differences, etc. that its colloquial
application as a descriptor of learning contexts may have little to do with learning per se.’ We would
argue that these contexts are part of both enculturated and professional musical training.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 55
… for the first few months it’ll be a really good laugh, really good craic, throwing about
some tunes, throwing about some ideas, seeing what happens, having a bit of fun, possibly
having a few arguments about what’s going on. … what really gets me about the rehearsals
is that one week we’ll do something and it’ll be fine … and the next week they’ll want to
change, and I’m like, would you just make your mind up! But then it gets more focussed
towards that actual performance and that’s when the really good stuff comes out, because
we should be really focussed from the start but we’re just not.
The initial chaos is an accurate reflection of the group dynamic of a band in both
Scottish traditional and popular styles (Green, 2001 and 2008, p. 7; Symon, 1997). We also
heard accounts of when discussion and negotiation can turn to conflict due to personality
clashes in the group and some tactics for overcoming that. This kind of preparation for
professional working situations is an important element of all conservatoire courses, but is
brought into particular focus in Scottish music groupwork where there is a large degree of
student autonomy.12
Sharing of material among the student body (in addition to a myriad of other sources) is
a vital element of the Scottish music course. A staff member, also one of Scottish music’s
first graduates of the course, describes how ‘it is in the sharing of tunes and songs that
much of the informal learning by students goes on. Versions of familiar tunes and songs …
are learned, swapped, re-composed and re-imagined by students’. Interviewee 1 reported:
I love getting together for a tune. If we have an hour spare in the Academy, me and [x] will
go and find a practice room and we’ll say, oh I learnt this tune the other week, and teach it
to each other, and also in group work, because there’s no tutors there, most of the time it’s
informal, we learn tunes off each other there as well, and different chord sequences and
stuff like that. It’s very informal.
From the outset it was recognized that Scottish music students needed a particular sort
of studio space in which to work informally, a space that they ‘owned’ and were comfortable
12
In the questionnaire Scottish music students scored the importance of membership and
identification with groups very highly.
56 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
in, rather than one of the more formal concert or rehearsal spaces in the conservatoire building.
‘Getting together for a tune’ will also happen at the flat, after a gig, or in a pub session13
(although there are particular procedures and conventions governing the session14). The
importance of learning spaces is considered elsewhere in this volume;15 for Scottish music
students, informal spaces outside the Conservatoire’s walls were reported as being important
places for learning with interviewees estimating large percentages of learning happening
outside the Conservatoire (two estimated 50/50, another 60/40). The Conservatoire also
facilitates and enlarges the scope for musical networking. In the questionnaire non-classical
musicians attached more importance to networking than western classical musicians;
focus group participants described player-to-player networks as ‘a primary engine’ for
performance of traditional material. The function of the Conservatoire is at its best a hub
of creative activity; students both gravitate towards it for the BASM course and radiate
out from it; it facilitates informal musical interactions and encourages proto-professional
behaviours. This hub function continues after graduation, with the community of RCS
graduates, along with those from nearby Strathclyde University, seen as a pool to be called
upon as needed for specific performances and teaching gigs (Miller and Duesenberry, 2007).
BASM students rated exploration higher than practice. Although questionnaire results
show that, in common with classical musicians, BASM students rate lone practice highest,
attitudes towards practice nevertheless vary from those that might be expected from classical
students. In interviews, students prioritized exploration and experimentation over technical
proficiency. Interviewee 3 (a first study singer) expressed the opinion that ‘training’ is not
what the BASM is about:
We don’t have training as such, you know, obviously we get taught how to play the actual
instrument but we don’t get taught how to play an actual tune or how to sing a song.
Practice to me, well it depends what you’re talking about. I think there’s loads of different
ways to practice, because you can practice Scottish music by going along to a session and
playing and although you’re not technically … sitting down for a practice session, and
especially for me, playing accompaniment instruments, that’s really important practice,
because it’s developing different chord ideas, and it’s there you can start experimenting
with different chord sequences, different riffs, you can throw them in there and it doesn’t
matter what happens, if it goes wrong it doesn’t matter. So that’s important practice for
me, but also the sitting down and practising a piece is for your exams. I think experiment
comes into a lot of my practice because a lot of what I’m doing is arranging tunes …
13
See, for example, Nigel Gatherer’s ‘The Scottish Session’, http://www.nigelgatherer.com/
sess.html
14
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pub_session#References; Benford et al, 2012.
15
See Chapter 13 of this volume.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 57
… with singing it’s weird because I like to sing all the time, if I’m just, I don’t know, doing
the dishes or something, I’ll be like, singing away, practising, not thinking about it, so I
suppose that’s kind of practising. Because when I go to consciously sit down and practice
my songs, I feel like I know them already because I’ve just been singing them all the time.
It is perhaps also significant that Interviewee 3 came from an intensely musical family
background and was performing regularly before coming to the Conservatoire. All the
interviewees recognised the more planned and goal-orientated type of practice familiar
to classical musicians, alongside less formal practice behaviours that are more akin to
those of popular musicians (Green, 2008, p. 8). In an article which argues powerfully for
promoting opportunities for students’ independence in their learning Harald Jorgensen
(2000) nevertheless finds that ‘paradoxically, the absence of a teacher’s influence, advice
and discourse [in formal practice sessions] may limit the student’s development of
independence and responsibility’. There is clearly an interesting avenue of further study
on definitions of practice, practice objectives and behaviours in different musical genres.
In research concerned with the Sibelius Academy, Juniper Hill (2009) analyses the way the
traditional music course at the Sibelius Academy (SibA) in Finland has produced traditional
musicians with a particular set of values as regards traditional music making and how this
course sits both in comparison with the SibA’s western classical provision and Finland’s
traditional music community. Our research as part of the IMP project, particularly via the
interviews and focus groups, shows a striking similarity with some of the creative and
artistic attitudes Hill reports at SibA, specifically creativity and personal expression (as
opposed to some establishment view of correct style), the willingness of the students to
be open to all kinds of musical influences and the importance they attach to a wide range
of musical influences and being a rounded musician. An open-minded attitude towards the
tradition and the incorporation of wider aspects of traditional music into the course was an
overt, and political, decision made from the outset to guard against the Conservatoire being
seen as an arbiter of the tradition, inappropriately setting the agenda for its development.
Rather it wished to be seen as an expert arena for traditional music, supporting, contributing
to and nurturing the existing traditions:
As Hill suggests, a particular creative stance towards the tradition emanating both
from SibA and the RCS has subsequently been highly influential in the respective
traditional music scenes of both countries. Hill reports that in a questionnaire distributed
to both SibA-trained musicians and non SibA-trained musicians, that those trained at
58 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
SibA feel much more strongly that ‘folk musicians must have the freedom to express
themselves personally and incorporate contemporary influences in order for folk music
to be a living tradition’. Among BASM graduates, one notable example of this kind of
creative and broad-based musician is James Ross, who has made a name for himself
as an innovative composer of more extended compositions within traditional music.
He also received commissions for orchestral pieces from the Caithness Orchestra, and
a New Voices commission from Celtic Connections16 (Adams, 2006). Likewise, BASM
graduate singer-songwriter Findlay Napier has been described as ‘typical of contemporary
traditional musicians in that he has a wide skills base … and can move across musical
styles’ (McKerrell, 2010).17
Of all Scottish music disciplines, piping has the most codified repertoire and style of
playing. This is due to the strictures of piping competitions in the 20th century and permeates
piping teaching at all levels prior to higher education (Donaldson, 2000). It was interesting
to observe, in this context, that Interviewee 2, a first study piper, expressed strong views
about the importance of creativity and open-mindedness in a musician. This student (in his
second year of study) described how he was developing more independent attitudes to the
piping repertoire during his time at the Conservatoire:
I was taught solely how to play in competitions, how to pull off a good march, strathspey
and reel …. So I came here with that frame of mind, and I was really fussy about my
playing, but now I’ve been to different teachers … and just talking to other people as well,
all have their own different interpretation of music and of what they’re playing. … So it’s
really important to get to a certain level and then it’s time to have your own interpretation …
you pull yourself up and put your own ideas into it. … I don’t want to be so sanitised by
my playing, I want to be more open about things.
This same student also drew comparisons between good competition pipers and good
musicians, the latter being able to respond to and utilise musical influences from various
genres of traditional music from all over the world rather than playing ‘by the rules’. He
also spoke of how his aspirations as a teacher would be to pass on this view of the tradition
to his students:
I’d love to teach people, teach pipes, but in a way beyond teaching them maybe how
to play in a ceilidh or how to play in a competition but … how to make the most out of
it, you know?
… it’s just down to the way he’s so open about everything, and in his lessons he
doesn’t really teach me how to play as such, he teaches me how to listen and take on
board everything.
16
New voices commission from Celtic Connections, for An Cuan for piano, fiddles, cello,
bass, saxophone and percussion (January 2006); Caithness Orchestra commissions for a 10-minute
symphonic composition (March 2006).
17
Both were nominated for the Scots Traditional Music Awards composer of the year in 2010.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 59
He had bumped up against some conservative attitudes from piping audiences more
than once when extending his repertoire from more well-known, conventional Scottish
repertoire to include a set of Galician tunes in irregular metres. A staff member focus group
participant also reported disapproval of innovation in a traditional session:
I remember playing in one traditional session in New York and I threw in a few long
held harmony notes, and they all stared me down – don’t play funny stuff here mate. Fair
enough, it’s their session …
It’s totally different here, everybody’s doing their own thing, and if you’re doing something
different, everybody likes it more.
This is a somewhat idealized view (we also heard accounts of directive and controlling
attitudes from one-to-one teachers on the BASM), but nevertheless RCS students value
personal expressiveness and an exploratory stance towards the music. In the questionnaire,
BASM respondents rated very highly those teachers who encouraged students to take
responsibility for their own learning and to choose their own repertoire.
The overall IMP questionnaire results suggest that non-classical musicians attach more
importance to acquiring general musical knowledge than classical musicians. This trend was
not particularly marked in questionnaire results for the BASM cohort but all interviewees
highlighted it. In addition to the contextual, historical and critical side of the BASM course,
which aims to provide rounded musical knowledge for BASM students, Interviewee 1
reported taking full advantage of the multi-disciplinary context at the RCS:
… you get to work with a whole variety of different people. Totally cosmopolitan in this
place, it’s fantastic. And because there’s the Scottish Music Department, and Opera and the
Drama, if you want to, a lot of people don’t, but if you get the opportunity to and you take
the opportunity, you can work with classical musicians as well. A lot of Scottish musicians
won’t agree with me here but I’d say, as you draw on influences from all different Scottish
performers, you can also draw on influences from classical music, jazz, rock, pop and all
different things, and I really enjoyed working with some of the classical musicians. I do a
lot of stuff with an opera singer.
Even though all of our interviewees strongly valued the importance of a wide range of
musical influences, this student alluded to the fact that not many students actually take these
‘cross-over’ performance opportunities and there can still be an atmosphere of ‘them and
us’ between the BASM and western classical courses. This atmosphere was not helped by an
initial ban, that lasted for 10 years, on bagpipe practice inside the RCS building. The course
leaders did not, in the early days, encourage large amounts of work with the Conservatoire’s
classical musicians for fear of overwhelming the new traditional musicians with working
styles of the classical music world. Many orchestral students were in awe of the traditional
musicians’ ability to play without music, and at the drop of a hat. As the BASM course,
60 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
and the Scottish Music Department, has matured, the need to guard a special space for
traditional music has eased. The Conservatoire is working now to change towards more
encouragement of cross-over performance opportunities as part of its Curriculum Reform.
There is much to be gained from sharing pedagogical practices across different musical
genres, particularly in the conservatoire setting which tends to operate within the more
conventional – and still rarely challenged – pedagogical model of western classical music. A
culture of sharing and institutional conversation emerged at the RCS via its thoroughgoing
reform of the undergraduate curriculum. In common with other higher education institutions,
the RCS looked to provide a more broadly-based undergraduate curriculum in which multi-
disciplinary practices and collaborative activities are highlighted, both for their intrinsic
artistic merit and because they better prepare students for the changing demands of the
creative professions.
The RCS’s Curriculum Reform project was one of major institutional change. Starting
in December 2008, and proceeding through a process of consultation and engagement from
both students and staff, it has designed a radical new curriculum which is being rolled out at
the time of writing. The objectives of Curriculum Reform are to: deliver a curriculum which
is distinctive within the UK and internationally, relevant to the needs of students, employers
and society, flexible in terms of student choice and international in outlook; to create
opportunities for interdisciplinary study, thereby realising the artistic and academic potential
offered by the range of disciplines included in the Conservatoire’s portfolio (uniquely in the
conservatoire sector in the UK, these encompass the whole range of music, drama, dance,
technical and production arts and film and TV); and to establish a common philosophical
and academic framework through which all Conservatoire programmes are delivered.
Under the banner of ‘One Academy’ the mission of the Curriculum Reform project
included an element of challenge, a deliberate widening of the commonly accepted scope
of conservatoire training and a rallying call for change: ‘… The One Academy ethos means
providing educational encounters for all our students and staff in which arts practices
transform through collision, challenge and ultimately collaboration.’ The RCS put One
Academy thinking to work in the form of six curricular principles. These six principles
encompass the institution’s artistic and educational philosophy and values and they explicitly
guided the development of Curriculum Reform. The six principles encompass (1) the
necessity in the new curriculum for excellence coupled with high levels of reflective practice,
(2) collaborative, inter-disciplinary learning, (3) enabling students to take responsibility for
managing and evaluating their own learning, (4) work-based learning, (5) using theoretical
understanding to inform practice and to use practice to inform theory and (6) enabling
students to make a wide contribution in the world as artists, advocates and educators.
Perhaps it is not surprising that the curriculum reform design team often found that the
more newly-established course offerings in the Conservatoire such as the BASM (established
in 1996) or the School of Drama’s Contemporary Performance Practice programme18
18
The BA Contemporary Performance Practice programme works within diverse contexts
and draws upon a wider variety of disciplines and discourses (including improvisation, physical
performance, writing for performance, feminist studies, gender studies, queer theory, pedagogy, media
and popular culture theory and cultural studies) than conventional drama ‘training’.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 61
(established in 1998) led the way in curriculum reform thinking. These programmes started
from a clean sheet, unburdened by the baggage of the conservatoire history and traditional
practice and expectations.
The BASM from its outset has had a clear orientation towards ‘employability’. Through
various curricular activities such as touring in which students not only perform but take a part
in organisation, management and publicity, or community work placements, students gain
a realistic and informed understanding of employment opportunities. Although facilitated
by RCS, their learning situations are not restricted to within the Conservatoire’s walls and
there is a close relationship with the profession and with the community throughout the
course. The professional link is further strengthened by the staffing structure of the BASM
which, in addition to an ‘academic’ Head of Department, Dr Josh Dickson, includes an
Artistic Director, Phil Cunningham. As an artist, Cunningham’s music is firmly rooted in
the Scottish tradition, but his musical activities and interests span many different genres,
both traditional and classical, exemplifying the kind of open-minded musical outlook so
valued by student interviewees. The groupwork and creative interactions of the Scottish
Music rehearsal room provide an important pointer towards how the Conservatoire might
achieve the aspirations of Curriculum Reform to include multi-disciplinary collaborative
work for students of all disciplines. Another guiding principle of Curriculum Reform is to
allow students a large degree of autonomy and responsibility for their own learning: as seen
above, this is the basis for the Scottish Music groupwork classes, and the Department’s
experience is invaluable in the curriculum reform process.
In selecting themes for examination in this chapter we have sought to highlight where
practices diverge from those of other, particularly Western classical, genres. We should
bear in mind, however, that IMP data often reflected a good deal of commonality between
all the genres studied (Creech, 2008) and that the evidence also suggested that some of the
dichotomies between groups may not be so clearly cut. Nevertheless results from the IMP
project do support an empirically based argument for multi-genre musical expertise and
rounded performance excellence (Welch, 2008), a recommendation that institutions should
aim to promote collaboration between genres and take a more holistic view of what it is to
be a musician, should provide opportunities for small group working and take steps to break
down unhelpful barriers between genres.
In his article considering the extent of institutional responsibility for student learning,
Jørgensen (2000) makes two recommendations. The first is that the institution needs ‘a
thorough understanding of its dominant values, like “what knowledge is most worth”,
“what is a good musician”’ (Jørgensen, 2000, p. 75) The RCS, through its Curriculum
Reform programme and its establishment of basic curricular principles, has attempted both
to define its educational and artistic values and to devise a curriculum in which these values
can be promulgated. As Scotland’s national conservatoire, it also values and supports its
national musical culture. The Conservatoire is however mindful of the relationship between
‘explicitly formulated values, and values or a more tacit or hidden type’. These latter, tacit
values, may well play out in the subtle relationship and balance in the institution between
the dominant genre of western classical music and Scottish traditional music. Curriculum
Reform has helped to ensure that this relationship stays in balance and that the students
and graduates of BASM are not only articulate advocates for parity of esteem with western
62 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
classical music but also are expert and creative collaborators with other musicians of
many genres.
Jørgensen’s second recommendation concerns the necessity for the institution to
take a lead in promoting independence and responsibility in student learning, rather than
expecting this to simply happen. In its process of transformation of its curricular offering,
in its definition of curricular principles and by design in its approach to traditional music
in which the learner’s independence and creativity in performance are valued alongside
an open-minded approach to collaboration, the Conservatoire is striving to fulfil this vital
institutional responsibility.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Frances Morton the RCS IMP research officer, who conducted the one-to-one
interviews and the IMP questionnaire at the RCS, and Josh Dickson, Head of Scottish
Music at the RCS, for his helpful contributions to this chapter.
References
Adams, R. (2001). Arts: Rob Adams meets Iain Macfarlane, graduate of the first year of
the course. Glasgow Herald, 20 Dec. 2001. Retrieved from http://www.heraldscotland.
com/sport/spl/aberdeen/arts-rob-adams-meets-iain-macfarlane-graduate-of-the-first-
year-of-the-course-who-has-replaced-aly-bain-in-boys-of-the-lough-picdesk-has-web-
address-for-pix-c-w-rob-adams-meets-brian-mcneill-head-of-rsamd-s-scottish-music-
course-eddie-jones-pics-1.164251.
Benford, S., Tolmie, P., Ahmed, A. Y., Crabtree, A. & Todden, T. (2012). Supporting
traditional music-making: Designing for situated discretion. In Proceedings of the
ACM 2012 conference on Computer Supported Cooperative Work (pp. 127–36).
Retrieved from http://dl.acm.org/citation.cfm?id=2145228&dl=ACM&coll=DL&CFI
D=147450864&CFTOKEN=66093653. Accessed 25 November 2012.
Brinner, B. (1995). Knowing music, making music: Javanese gamelan and the theory of
musical competence and interaction. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press.
Broad, S. & France, J. (2005). 25 years of the Fèisean, the participants’ story: Attitudinal
research on the Fèis movement in Scotland. Retrieved from http://www.scottisharts.
org.uk/1/information/publications/1002519.aspx.
Cianciolo, A. T., Matthew, C., Sternberg, R. J. & Wager, R. K. (2006). Tacit knowledge,
practical intelligence and expertise. In K. A. Ericsson, N. Charness, R. R. Hoffman &
P. J. Feltovich (Eds), The Cambridge handbook of expertise and expert performance
(pp. 613–32). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Cooke, P. (1988). Notes for The Fiddler and His Art Scottish Tradition Series No. 9.
CDTRAX9009. (Originally published as LP record by Tangent Records, London, in
association with the School of Scottish Studies, University of Edinburgh).
Creech, A., et al. (2008). Investigating musical performance: Commonality and diversity
amongst classical and non-classical musicians. Music Education Research, 10(2), 215–34.
Donaldson, W. (2000). The highland pipe and Scottish society 1750–1950: Transmission,
change and the concept of tradition. East Linton: Tuckwell Press.
Wha’s like us? A New Scottish Conservatoire Tradition 63
Konstantinos tsahouridis
Introduction
the present chapter confers an approach to the vocal style of folk polyphony in epirus1, an
area located in north-Western greece. this vocal manner is common to singers on both sides
of the greek-Albanian border in the form of folk polyphony, antiphony and monophony.2
the chapter analyses the vocal performance of the polyphonic species and, also, discourses
on the impact of institutionalizing the genre into performance-based programmes in higher
education systems, such as Western-style conservatories as well as universities of greece.
Based on case studies and ethnographic data3 the objective here is not to collect folk songs
but rather to examine the vocal execution and illustrate the nature and extent of their
pedagogy in higher education.
the folk music of epirus4 continues as a vibrant tradition embedded within a specific
geographical area. in terms of folk polyphony, performance practice and performance
1
for many centuries epirus has been a north-western greek borderland. throughout its long
history this territory, now part of the modern greek state, witnessed the rise and fall of numerous
civilizations: ancient greek, roman, Byzantine and ottoman. its main urban centre is the historic
city of Ιωάννινα (ioannina), but the region also includes a great number of villages, perhaps over one
hundred. An operation similar to that of 1922 in Asia Minor was implemented when in 1944 greeks
from southern Albania were moved to modern epirus and Albanians from epirus to southern Albania.
the people who lived in epirus before the exchange of 1944 were called Tsamides while Liapides was
the name given to those greeks who lived in the southern part of Albania.
2
According to samuel Baud-Bovy (2005), the father of greek ethnomusicology: ‘Had there
been proper studies of the music of both sides, this cruel action would never have taken place’. His
point was that the similarities between these two music cultures are so overwhelmingly greater than
their differences.
3
data taken from the author‘s unpublished Phd thesis (2008), entitled: ‘folk vocal techniques
of Pontos and Epirus in modern Greece: A study in reflexive musical ethnography’.
4
Owing to its topography, the Epirotic land was difficult to cultivate and inhabitants were
obliged either to migrate or to start their own business of stock breeding. for this reason, most of their
66 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
history, the repertory seems to be exclusive. Instrumental music is also well attested in
Epirus but the most ‘authentic’ music for the Epirotes is purely vocal polyphony.5 Divided
according to function, the repertory ranges from mournful laments to love songs, and
from table6 to dance songs. Poetic themes generally refer: a) to those who have left their
homeland and migrated for financial reasons, and b) to the natural, physical, historical and
social circle of life.
In general, voices in folk polyphony are blended in such a way as to produce
‘homogeneous sound-shapes’ (Emsheimer, 1964, p. 44). Unification in the sound production
of Epirotic folk polyphony (and presumably in other kinds of folk polyphony) reaches a
point where it is impossible to separate one voice from another. This observation is based
on the fact that each voice (apart from that which leads) relies on the existence of the
neighbouring voice so that, together, they produce an interactive vocal result. Whenever
an attempt to distinguish the voices occurs, there is a great difficulty. The polyphonic song
in Epirus involves a vocal multi-part organization of three or more non-identical melodic
lines which aim to achieve an optimally balanced sound. Included are: a) the main melody,
b) the drone and c) the overlapping phrases (explained below). All voices employ vocal
techniques which combine different skills and give rise to relatively complex forms of folk
polyphony. The musical setting itself is strophic in form and is usually sung by at least three
singers, although this number can vary depending on the occasion. While male singers
predominate in such contexts, this does not imply the exclusion of female or mixed groups.
For the purposes of focus, the case studies in the present text are Anthoula and Vaggelis
Kotsou (son and mother). Having two different informants from two different generations
allows undertaking comparative research between younger and older practitioners. There
is a pragmatic element in this approach: on one hand the older generation with its greater
experience, and, on the other, the younger generation that perpetuates the vocal tradition
transmitted to them. Of primary interest, however, are the current vocal techniques in Epirotic
polyphony; therefore both old and young informants have contributed to the findings.
Informants
Anthoula Kotsou
Anthoula Kotsou was born in Ktismata (in the county of Pogoni, Epirus) in 1935, a village
considered to be in the heartland of Epirotic polyphony. At 10 years of age, during the Greek
civil war, she moved with her family to Ioannina and then to Athens where her father’s first
folk songs either relate to migration or extol nature. Aside from Epirus, folk polyphony can be heard
in certain songs from Thessaly (the Greek midlands), to a lesser degree in the counties of Kastoria and
Grevena (both located in Northern Greece) and in particular places of the entire Balkan peninsula with
different variations.
5
For the Epirotes, the term ‘polyphony’ usually means the synchronized and simultaneous
outflow of three or more different voices. This contrasts with the prevailing Western notion of the term
‘polyphony’ where it is often equated with tonic/dominant ‘functional’ harmony. A Western-trained
scholar might well describe Epirotic ‘polyphony’ as ‘heterophony’, which, by definition, is a ‘form’ of
polyphony in which: (a) there is a simultaneous execution of different melodic events; and (b) some of
the melodic lines are frequently improvisatory. Also, see Harvard dictionary of music, B. Nettl (1956)
& I. Markoff (1975, p. 137–8).
6
Or as it is known: της τάβλας, tis tavlas.
The Epirotic Vocal Folk Polyphony in Contemporary Greece 67
cousin resided. Owing to difficult circumstances she remained in Athens where she was
adopted by her aunts, yet every summer she returned to the village and to her parents. It was
there that she learned to sing polyphonic songs from her father, Spyros Matsias. Anthoula
has participated as a soloist in many recordings in Greece and abroad. Greek folklorists
such as Domna Samiou, and scholars such as Labros Liavas consider Anthoula to be a
‘living history’ of the polyphonic song. It is believed that she knows almost the entire
repertory of the known Epirotic polyphony and she is seen as someone who values tradition
in her everyday life, and is very loyal to the legacy of her forefathers.
Vaggelis Kotsou
Vaggelis (Anthoulas’s son) was born in Athens in 1958 and is a fourth generation singer
in the Epirotic polyphonic tradition, a genre that he learned from his family – especially
his mother and his grandfather, Spyros Matsias. He is a professional teacher of Greek
folk song and his years of performing have made him one of the most respected singers
and champions of Greek folk polyphony. He also studied Western classical music at local
conservatories where he cultivated his lyric tenor voice. Whatever he has learned about
Greek folk song has come from within his family environment. His passion for Epirotic
polyphony led Vaggelis to set up and direct his own polyphonic group which performs
worldwide and has produced recordings in Greece, France and America. By virtue of his
musical education he is able to explain aspects of polyphony in technical terms, a fact which
has contributed substantially to the author’s understanding of this repertory and its vocal
production. His group has also collaborated on stage with other polyphonic ensembles from
Albania, Romania, Bulgaria, the former Yugoslavia, and southern Italy, in concerts that he
conceived, organized and produced in Athens.
Vocal Execution
Each singer is given a title according to his or her role in the ensemble. Because the leading
voice is that which assumes (παίρνει) the tune, its singer is known as the ‘παρτής’ (partis,
‘the one who assumes the melody’). The second voice normally responds to the partis’
main melody and is called γυριστής (gyristis) or τσακιστής (tsakistis) (‘the one who “turns”
or “cracks” the melody’). The rest of the group sustains a drone and are appropriate called
ισοκράτες (isokrates, ‘drone holders’). In this arrangement one very often encounters a
functionary named the κλώστης (klostis, ‘the one who “threads” the melody’) in order to
liken this voice to the movement of the fingers that thread cotton through a needle. Less
frequently, we meet the ρίχτης (rihtis), the singer who ρίχνει (rihni, ‘throws’) the tune,
usually at the interval of a perfect fourth below the home note of the piece. Since his vocal
line is of limited range (only two notes), the rihtis’ part is usually sung by one of the drone
holders. This group formation can be modified only with respect to the gyristis whose role
may be assumed by the klostis; thus, of the ‘usurper’ the locals say, θα πάει κλωστό (it will
go to the klosto, if there is a part for the klostis) or θα πάει με γύρισμα (it will go with a
gyrisma, if there is a part for the gyristis). Rarely do the roles of gyristis and klostis occur
in the same group.
This arrangement can be found in both male and female groups. In the case of a mixed
group, however, the partis is usually female, the gyristis or klostis is male (though many
believe that female voices could better take the role of klostis, because of their naturally
68 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
high range) and the isokrates could be either male or female. There is no specific proportion
between male and female singers in these groups apart from the aforementioned fact
that in a mixed group the leading voice is usually female. In all other cases the gender
composition of the group depends on the occasion. The position of the singers is also very
important for achieving a satisfying polyphonic rendition. In order to visualize and clarify
the aforementioned vocal roles of this polyphony, Vaggelis Kotsou provided the following
information: ‘In the centre we have the main singer, the partis is the one who places the
gyristis or klostis either to his right or left hand side. Beside them we have the strongest
droners and by this I mean those most able to keep the tonality. All are usually placed
in a semi-circle before an audience or in a circle if the performance takes place in local
gatherings of the village. Occasionally we have a droner at the end of the first line of the
semi-circle (as shown below) who also takes the role of rihtis’. The rest of the second semi-
circle below shows a possible team of droners that usually join in during performance.
Figure 5.1, below, represents schematically this description as if it were before an audience
The partis is considered to be the leading voice of an Epirotic polyphonic group; he must be
in full possession of a song since the other singers rely on this vocal line. Vaggelis indicates
that: ‘He is the one who starts the song and therefore introduces the tune’s modality and
rhythm’. Not unusually, the rhythm may change during the course of a piece. All singers
follow and extemporise on the partis’ melodic line, especially at the openings and the
codas. The partis never sings in unison with any other voice in the group. Rather he is
considered to be the lead singer who introduces the ‘spiritual essence’ of the composition.
He invariably begins the song in a recitative-like declamation.7 This could occupy the
7
Such beginning could imply the use of another role called προλογιστής (prologistis, ‘the
one who introduces the song’) but we usually find that this introductory musical phrase is sung by
the partis.
The Epirotic Vocal Folk Polyphony in Contemporary Greece 69
entire first verse, half of it, merely the first syllable or a few of the opening syllables. He
then breaks off this vocal preamble (or πάρσιμο [parsimo, ‘taking’]) allowing the rihtis’ (if
there is one – this depends on the song) and all voices together to begin the song. What is
interesting in this vocal genre is that no song commences tutti. As a leading voice, the partis
is normally an experienced singer. Nevertheless, his melodic range covers no more than a
perfect fifth. The partis’ initial recitative-like introduction tends to be more accelerated than
that of the song, which begins at a regular pace once all the voices sing together.
Epirotic polyphony is formed from a unique pentatonic scale which eschews the
semitone (such as G-A-C-D-E). Within these parameters the partis is automatically obliged
to sing larger intervals than the ones performed in other folk singing which uses seven-
tone scales. That inevitably involves ‘wider’ vocal progressions between the notes and
requires accurate pitch movements; any inaccuracy could immediately ruin the polyphony.
The pitch range normally chosen for this repertory is related to the speaking ambit of a
partis’ voice, an observation also made by Lolis: ‘In every case the melodies are developed
within the middle register of the human voice’ (2006, p. 37). However, Anthoula recalls
that: ‘The older singers used to sing higher than us; I remember my father singing high
without becoming tired, I found that very hard. Vaggelis is now like him.’ Accurate as this
may be, one could argue that the chosen tonality of a piece is always subject to the people
who participate in this musical action.
Thus, for a mixed group (male and female) it is the partis’ responsibility to adjust the
key according to the vocal abilities of the group; the same would apply if the group is only
male or only female. Generally, the chosen pitch in this collective singing action extends
around the speaking range of the leading voice creating, in this way, a ‘safe’ tonality for
all other participating voices.8 Customarily, almost everyone who sits around the partis
joins in as ισοκράτες (isokrates, ‘drone holders’), the least demanding role in terms of the
vocal skills required. In this way, the ‘audience’ becomes a part of the actual performance,
a practice that summons collective musical action and, also, collective ways of learning.
All follow the flow of the partis so that ‘the song can be heard as clearly as a ‘bell’ (‘να
ακούγεται καμπάνα’, Na akougetai kambana), using a familiar adage.
In terms of articulation and vocal projection the partis regularly ‘spreads out’ his voice
rather broadly, by which it is meant that he widens his mouth in order to achieve more
volume. He does this by relaxing his throat and opening his mouth in order to create greater
space in the mouth cavity and also by maintaining a continuous ‘air’ flow. By widening his
mouth, the leading voice in the polyphony can maximize the volume of his voice. This is
not surprising since the partis has to be heard over the other singers who follow his melodic
line. Anthoula confirms this point when she says: ‘Being the leading voice in the group, you
have to sing loudly with your mouth wide open’. Employing an ‘open-mouth’ projection
of the voice has some further consequences. First, it creates more space at the back of the
mouth cavity and therefore allows air to be projected faster by releasing more air waves.
Second, it locates the singer’s focal point9 to the hard palate thereby creating a frontward
singing position. Thus, the partis is able to produce prolonged notes with greater clarity and
8
Most of the recordings indicate a baritone vocal ambit for the male singers and an alto or
mezzo-soprano range for the females. The tenor voice is preferred for the partis’ role since it offers
greater clarity and colour, appropriate for the main tune. Of course, being a tenor or soprano does not
necessarily mean that high-register singing is expected.
9
By using the term ‘focal point’ I, here, mean the position/adjustment taken in the mouth before
the voice is projected.
70 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
to render certain distinctive vocal ornamentations called ‘breakings’ (amongst the locals)
with less demanding speed.
In addition, the extensive use of the jaw also contributes to the execution of breakings
in Epirotic polyphonic song. The vocal line of the partis is always syllabic, but there are
occasional breakings in some phrases. In striving for a collective, homogeneous vocal effect,
the partis avoids singing embellished and individualistic vocal lines. His sensitivities turn
more to the timbre of the voice than to producing ornamentations. The strophic form of the
songs, their recitative-like character and the repeated leaps in the partis’ line collectively
run the risk of producing a somewhat monotonous vocalisation. To a large degree this is
avoided by the vitality and breakings of the other voices. Not to be ignored is the fact that
polyphonic singing in this northern region generally involves a large number of ad hoc
participants who cheerfully join the performance and take pleasure in becoming involved
in this action. As a result, the musical themes, their structure, tempo and the ‘laconic’
impulse (Lolis, 2006, p. 37) of the partis need to be comprehensible to all participants who
themselves come from heterogeneous backgrounds.
The role of the gyristis, generally sung by men, demands a flexible voice in order to perform
the ‘breakings’ – perhaps, the most flexible in the polyphony of Epirus. This voice usually
enters after the partis ends his/her preamble. The vocal range of the gyristis is somewhat
restricted; it moves solely between the tonic, the leading note and on occasion, a perfect
fourth below the tonic. Unique for the part of the gyristis is that at the middle and end of
each verse it cadences on the leading note or a fourth below, rather than the tonic.
In addition another voice with the same function is to be found in this context: the
klostis. The klostis probably has the most prominent voice in the polyphonic songs of Epirus.
His part demands significant vocal effort and imagination as the singer must embellish
the partis’ melody by combining unique vocal breakings without losing the polyphony
of the team. As such, the klostis must be extremely accurate in his vocal movements, and
this is why his part is conventionally sung by experienced singers who know the modal
vocabulary, the specific polyphonic style, and are capable of performing complicated vocal
embellishments. These unique melodic gestures are based on the intervals tonic-dominant,
tonic-minor seventh and tonic-major sixth.
The main difference between the gyristis and klostis is that the latter makes extensive
use of the falsetto voice during the breakings and that usually occurs above the tonic of
the piece. The gyristis, however, makes seldom use of falsetto voice and moves mainly
below the tonic of the piece. The sung melodies of both the klostis and gyristis bear little
relationship with the lyrics of the song because the soloist is confined to singing vowels
such as ‘a’ or ‘o’. In performing these movements, the klostis tries to create a ‘harmony’
on the main melody rather than a separate vocal line; the same occurs with the gyristis.
The performance practice of the gyristis and the klostis is highly distinctive within Epirotic
polyphony. Vaggelis argues that its specific vocal contribution reveals a ‘folk Epirotic
counterpoint as they sing on the main melody [the partis’ line] creating the harmony’. The
gyristis’ or klostis’ first line, usually a vocalisation on the vowel ‘o’ or ‘och’, signals the
entry of the remaining singers. At this point polyphonic progression is initiated.
The gyristis’ vocal line is not demanding in terms of its intervals or tessitura but is
highly demanding in that below the moving notes of the partis, he embellishes these
same notes with accentuated flourishes, formed by complex rhythmic improvisations. He
The Epirotic Vocal Folk Polyphony in Contemporary Greece 71
embellishes with great command in terms of tempo and also ‘harmony’. It could well be
argued that it is the gyristis or klostis who creates the polyphony since the partis has the
main melody and the isokrates merely holds the low drone. Vital to the formation of the
polyphony, the gyristis uses his jaw in a special manner in order to execute the intervallic
leaps tempo presto.
The greater his musical imagination is the more effective can the gyristis perform his
artistic tasks. Vaggelis states that: ‘This is in fact the only role where improvisation is
required; hence, the gyristis must be an experienced and gifted singer’. Here, the term
‘improvisation’ carries the sense of the singer’s ability to elaborate: a) harmony, in that
the selection of the intervallic steps will have diverse repercussions on the polyphony, and
b) rhythm, because the gyristis or klostis can innovate and influence the tempo or metre
of the group either by division or extension. Consequently, he is a function of exclusivity.
His enhanced vocal abilities reflect the soloist’s musical status; additionally, the ways of
transmission rely purely on acoustical and imitative methods.
The manner in which a relationship is formed between the partis and the gyristis or
klostis during a live performance is a lesson in itself. According to Anthoula: ‘Once we have
all begun to sing, the gyristis takes over as if he were competing with the partis’. The co-
ordination of the partis and the gyristis or klostis is also affected by simultaneous gesture and
ocular engagement: ‘You look into my eyes, to know when I am to come in, when to go back,
and when to recapitulate [the song]. With the eyes! Do you understand?’ (Labridis, 1998,
p. 25). In reality, therefore, no two performances of the same piece are ever identical.
Each song is its own composition ‘in the making’ because of the ‘vocal correlation’. A
correspondence has to be established between the singers in order to achieve the most
favourable conditions for homogeneous vocal projection. There is no rule that determines
whether the song includes a klostis or a gyristis. Anthoula testified that: ‘We can decide
either for the klosto or the gyrisma, there is no regulation about this. It depends on how we
learnt it; … also, there are certain songs that are compatible more with the voice that suits
the klostis or gyristis. This at least, is what we believe because this is how we were taught’.
The ison, one of the radical neumes in Byzantine musical notation, represents a repeated
note; the word ‘ison’ (Greek: ίσον, drone) refers to the graphic sign , which instructs
the chanter to sing the same pitch as the previous note. In Wellesz’s words: ‘All the time the
tone remains on the same level, the Ison is sung’ (1962, pp. 288–9). The bourdon or drone
can be found in many musical genres around the globe; its role in Epirotic polyphony is to
‘fill in’ or ‘support’ the main melody and is considered to be a vital part of every singing
group. The isokrates should be understood as a group of singers who hold the fundamental
note of the scale and follow the flow of the composition. Using a local expression, the
Epirotes refer to this function as gemisia (‘filling’) or kambana (‘bell’).
Essentially, there are two ways of performing the ison: a) when the isokrates sing
nasally throughout the whole piece, usually on the vowels ‘a’ or ‘e’ or ‘i’ (depending on
the last vowel of the lyrics), b) as a syllabic ison, where the isokrates sing the lyrics of the
song on the drone note but following all the dynamics, rests and note values in the main
melody. The isokrates begin singing once the partis, gyristis, klostis or rihtis have ended
their assigned melodic phrases. On the surface it may appear that the part of the isokrates is
somewhat simple to perform. At the same time these singers are required to provide a rich
sound, perhaps the most important factor of homogeneity in Epirotic polyphony. Chiefly,
72 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
however, they are faced with the highly responsible musical task of maintaining a single and
steady note over a long period. Any minute tonal digression could destroy the polyphony
and with it, the entire performance. If these conditions are not satisfied, it is said that the
song ‘does not ring’; it ‘dies out’. Occasionally, when things go badly, performances have
been stopped for rectification.
Because the part of the rihtis is very brief he is often chosen from among the isokrates.
The musical contribution of the rihtis is made at the end of the partis’ preamble where he
intones, legato, the note a perfect fourth below the tonic. In so doing, he creates a feeling
of ‘casting’ (rhino = ‘cast’) the tonality of the piece. This melodic gesture is followed by
a break before the singers continue with the next phrase. Vaggelis adds that: ‘This void
resembles a pause wherein every participant considers the forthcoming phrase to be sung’.
This same point was confirmed by Anthoula: ‘It is (a short silence) placed there to make
space for the others and prepare for the ensuing polyphony’.
The rihtis is not featured in all songs; not uncommonly, his vocal exclamation is sung by
the klostis (singing a perfect fifth above the tonic), or even by the partis (at the minor third
above the tonic). Conventionally, the rihtis performs sedately and in a slow tempo. His long
glissando carries associations of painful sorrow. The soloist is placed in the centre of the
ensemble beside the partis and the gyristis or klostis. The only vocal demand imposed on
him, beyond the largo pace, is, as before, accuracy in performing the leap of the descending
fourth. This requires aptitude in vocal stability and pitch control. On occasion, when the
partis concludes a phrase, the rihtis may introduce a breaking, thereby bringing the line
back to the tonic by means of a long glissando.
Finding a traditional transmission from ‘older to younger’ seems to be the most common
case in Epirus, specially, within families. Formal transmission settings are to a certain
extent unpopular; most of the times it is an individual’s passion for the genre that creates
organized efforts in the promotion, preservation and transmission of this sort of music. This,
consequently, means that individual ideas are put forward undertaking the responsibility of
producing a desired or ‘authentic’ performance. Changes in transmission patterns are not
that new, however. Vaggelis and Anthoula, who are considered to be austere followers of
this musical scene, declare that: ‘Whatever cannot be renewed is destined to die’. This is
also testified to from the perspective of the actual tactics used for transmission: listening and
imitating. Both embryonic virtues of learning imply the constraints of the ‘individual’ and the
insertion of inevitable changes to the chain of transmission especially in oral/aural cultures.
At first, when I considered isolating the partis and gyristis voices from the isokrates in
order to concentrate on the individual melodic lines, a negative reaction from all members
in Vaggelis’ group took place: ‘Polyphony is sung collectively; we cannot perform the song
that way’. Anthoula also asserts: ‘this is a collective musical action not only in performance
but also in learning’. Moreover, a proper positioning of the singers is very important in such
polyphony both for acoustic and physical reasons. It is crucial for the leading voice to be
heard above the communal sound of the ensemble. Furthermore, if the location of a singer
distracts the direct ocular and acoustic contact with the others, this can ruin performance
homogeneity. Consequently, proper eye contact and accurate acoustical ‘access’ by all voices
in the group are deemed to be fundamental for the success of a performance. These are only
some elements a beginner has to face in order to learn to perform Epirotic polyphonic songs.
The Epirotic Vocal Folk Polyphony in Contemporary Greece 73
In the Hellenic higher education there is no organised attempt10 to teach the Epirotic
polyphony. Although the department of ‘Music Science and Art’ in the University of
Macedonia (Thessaloniki, Greece), the Polytechnic School (Greek = T.E.I.) in Arta (Epirus)
and the Museum of Folk Instruments (Athens) offer seminars in Greek folk singing,
the Epirotic polyphony remains neglected by many teachers in the field. The reason is
debatable from a range of points; one could argue that is the ignorance of scholars, the lack
of knowledge by the governors, the degree of how popular or unpopular the genre is or even
the lack of academic documentation. Whatever the reason is, Epirotic polyphony should
be treated as a rare genre of folk polyphony deeply rooted in the Greek musical tradition.
It is still a debatable argument whether oral/aural traditions should be institutionalized.
The most common discourse in this case deals with the fact that systematized education usually
leads to ‘Westernization’ (Nettl, 1985; Stock, 2004) or ‘artification’ or ‘modernisation’.
Western-style institutions have created a well documented system which most of the times
seems to work in terms of producing operatic singers, classically trained musicians in
virtuosic level as well as scholars and theoreticians. This, however, was invented from and
for a given society with specific needs. The ‘copy and paste’ of this system that prevailed in
numerous institutions around the world can create strong controversies. The fact that Arabic
or Turkish orchestras have a conductor in front of them can be amusing or even surrealistic
from an aesthetic point of view; and this is because the aesthetic values and performance
practices of these given societies often differ drastically from those of the aforementioned
Western style.
While Western classical music is governed by the prevailing notion of the composer’s
authority, standardised notation and faithfulness to the score, harmony, orchestral hierarchy
and elite status, most of the music of folk cultures around the globe is governed by the
value of improvisation, the anonymous composer and the status of the everyday people.
Thus, every attempt of organized transmission in oral/aural cultures should be done with
great care for the social constraints and the idioms of the culture itself. Formal education
programmes should avoid the imposition of Western-style fundamentals not only on music
but also on aesthetics, repertoire, style, performance practices, creative opportunities and
hierarchies (Hill, 2009).
We should also take into consideration that Western classical music values and
conventions had an impact in many folk/traditional styles of the West as well. For instance,
Irish folk musicians at the University of Cork are required to have notation and reading
skills on the keyboard and knowledge of Western music theory while students at the Sibelius
Academy (Finland) have to emphasize that ‘since we are here in this Academy in which
classical music has such an enormous role, we have to remind ourselves every day: we have
a musician-ideal that is different’ (Hill, 2009, p. 215). In his book, The Western Impact on
World Music (1985), Bruno Nettl provides valuable information about the Western-style
programmes established in India, Iran, Korea, China, Ghana and native America observing
that such institutions were firstly founded for teaching Western art music and then the
system applied to non-western musical idioms.
In the case of Epirotic polyphony, and, before any detailed systematization, it is essential
to value as well as promote oral/aural transmission and comprehend that such transmission
is the most significant component in the creative and learning process. Emphasis should
be given to the creation of the moment of performance and therefore expand the notion
10
By the term ‘organised attempt’ it is meant the involvement of the government in
state universities.
74 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
of improvisation in the context of this particular genre. In this way, one avoids treating
Epirotic polyphony as a museum object which, by definition, is an antithesis of the current
performance practice and living aesthetics. The fears of standardisation should be kept
away from this environment which actually promotes the individual style although is a
collective musical action.
The ideal policy, according to the author’s opinion as a native researcher-performer,
would be to create a separate department of folk music (under the auspices of the Greek
State Universities) where students would be able to maintain autonomy from the rest of the
conservatory-style environment. As a start, the committee should bring a high profile to the
genre through virtuosic performances and artistry of folk musicians who have contributed
to the promotion of the style. Recognition of the music itself comes with growing respect
for folk music conventions as well as realisation that Western-style methods might interfere
with the ‘virginity’ and beauty of this rare folk polyphony. In this way, pedagogues will
be able to form an initial curriculum with regards to teaching methods, valuation, musical
material, performance practice and history, personal expression and improvisation, which
can be later developed to a proper programme of study.11
Apart from workshops by experts, the department should be able to organize fieldwork
trips in lesson form offering to the students the valuable experience of learning in situ12.
In that, students will have the opportunity to come across the acoustics of the natural
environment of the genre, with informants and also people who can instinctively join into the
polyphony. Such realisation contributes significant to the acquisition of the style in terms of
performance and also aesthetics. In addition, it is important for each student to experience
all roles in the polyphony and then decide which one (and in which song) is the most
suitable for his/her voice; thus, vocal pedagogy should be an essential module in this sort of
music. Teaching a wide range of improvisation, from melodic to rhythmic and minimalistic,
seems to be vital not only in terms of performance but also of musical development.
All participants should be aware that research, systematized teaching and performance
practice comprise all together a creative process which inescapably leads to experimental
thoughts and further progress of the genre. In order to control such instinctive actions the
department should allow a separate module in the course dedicated to young generations’
creativeness, musical ‘curiousness’, academic anxieties and the feeling of continuing folk
music as a ‘living’ tradition can be fulfilled. Having said that, it is not implied that the
freedom of creation will be controlled but it will be perceived as a separated value by
students, making clear what is the ‘traditional’ (or the one that handed down) and what is
the progressive style of genre.
Conclusion
Epirotic folk vocal polyphony may be summarized under three headings: a) collective,
b) homogeneous and c) interdependent. Epirotic singing is collective in that it is not only
11
Being the only folk vocal polyphonic genre in Greece, the Epirotic singing actions can offer
valuable information in a series of disciplines such as ethnomusicology, aesthetics, anthropology,
history, etc. and also a real chance to apply collectiveness and ‘team work’ to young generations
since singing even from preschool ages has a drastic impact in the development of the individual
(Brown, 2004; Mang, 2006; Fuchs, 2007).
12
See also Baily’s article ‘Learning to perform as research technique’ (2001).
The Epirotic Vocal Folk Polyphony in Contemporary Greece 75
considered to be an artistic but also a social form of interaction within a given society. It
is also homogeneous in that: i) all renditions of the tune follow a standardized vocal line
throughout the song; ii) only minimal improvisation is employed, except for the vocalizations
of the gyristis or klostis and, moreover, melodic resources are highly constrained (repeated
phrases and predictable variations); and iii) vocal timbre is consistent in every performance
by each role-singer so that the characteristic sound is immediately recognized by Epirotes
and non-Epirotes alike. Ultimately, the Epirotic vocal style is interdependent since no single
voice can be performed separately. Whenever one voice errs, the entire song must begin all
over again.
Epirotic polyphony has remained neglected by educators and governors in the Greek
higher education system. Individual efforts appear to be the most ‘organized’ form of
transmission in this oral/aural vocal genre implying at the same time individual conventions
and restrictions. An ultimate form of institutionalized transmission, according to the author
(as a native researcher-performer) would include a separate department, under the auspices
of state universities, which would encourage the individualism of the genre, the virtue
of improvisation, the collective singing action and the avoidance of any imposition of
the Western-style fundamentals. It is also of great importance to accentuate the fact that
workshops in situ should be involved in order, for the students, to experience contact with
the locals and performance with the ‘experts’.
Research and any kind of investigation should aim to note the fact that this sort of
musical genre was created under different conditions from the ones we live today and that
what is known as Epirotic polyphony should be taught and studied with self-reflexivity
and self-consciousness in terms of transmission and promotion. One, however, can always
ask: is this a truly ‘living’ condition of the Epirotic polyphony? Is it still ‘authentic’?
Many answers can be given to such questions with regards to the perspective one has on
authenticity and its relative aspects. Anthoula Kotsou’s opinion in the matter of authenticity
is very ‘simple’, as she reported: ‘we can make new music but no new rules; we cannot
change polyphony, pentatonic scales, the (vocal) roles, etc. this is the only way to produce
a decent transmission showing respect to our grandfathers’.
Thus, it is significant to supervise three important actions in terms of ‘shielding’ the
so-called ‘traditional’ or ‘authentic’ style: a) collection; the term refers to the gathering of
the available ‘traditional’ material from private or public archives, b) decision; the term
refers to the selection of certain representative material of the style and apposite for higher
music education, c) categorization; the term refers to the creation of different levels to the
degree of difficulty in performance practice. Any attempt similar to the above should be
guided by pertinent bibliography and existing documentation. In the same vein, as oral/
aural traditions continue to be systematized in specific formulas in higher education, it is
of great importance that researchers, scholars, pedagogues, musicians and administrators
scrutinize with self-reflexivity and criticism the impact and transformation of their tactics
in the tradition they teach.
References
Brown, S., Martinez, M. J., Hodges, D. A., Fox, P. T. & Parsons, L. M. (2004). The song
system of the human brain. Cognitive Brain Research 20, 363–75.
Emsheimer, E. (1964). Some remarks on European folk polyphony. Journal of the
International Folk Music Council, 16, 43–6.
Fuchs, M., Meyret, S., Thiel, S., Taschner, R., Dietz, A. & Gelbrich, G. (2009). Influence of
singing activity, age and sex on voice performance parameters, on subject’s perception
and use of their voice in childhood and adolescence. Journal of Voice, 23(2), 182–9.
Hill, J. (2009). The influence of conservatory folk music programmes: The Sibelius
Academy in comparative context. Ethnomusicology Forum, 18(2), 207–41.
Labridis, A. (1998). ‘Τραγούδια για Μοναχοκοιτάρηδες’ (‘Songs for Self-Reliant’). 2nd
Edition. Apeiros: Athens, No. 1:23–5.
Lolis, K. (2006). Το Ηπειρώτικο Πολυφωνικό Τραγούδι (‘The Epirotic Polyphonic Song’).
Ioannina: Theodoridi Printing House.
Mang, E. (2006). The effects of age, gender and language on children’s singing competency.
British Journal of Music Education, 23(2), 161–74.
Nettl, B. (1985). The Western impact on world music: Change, adaptation, and survival.
New York: Schirmer.
Stock, J. (2004). Peripheries and interfaces: The Western impact on other music. In
N. Cook and A. Pople (Eds.), The Cambridge History of the Twentieth Century Music
(pp. 18–39). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Tsahouridis, K. (2008). Folk vocal techniques of Pontos and Epirus in modern Greece:
A study in reflexive musical ethnography. (Unpublished PhD thesis) Goldsmiths,
University of London.
Wellesz, E. (1962). A history of Byzantine music and hymnography. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
chapter 6
Music Performance in a
‘transitional era’ of education:
A case study of folk song Performance in china
Yang Yang
Introduction
the focus of this case study is on addressing the challenges inherent in bringing authentic1
folk singing performance into the mainstream higher education music curricula in china. to
contextualise the pedagogical issues emerged with a recent state promotion of indigenous
music culture in education sectors, this research adopted a multi-methods approach for
data analyses. research participants comprised experienced folk musicians, music
tutors and undergraduate students in local higher education colleges in gansu, Western
China. The chosen music was Hua’er, a genre that is culturally significant and, therefore,
has been inscribed on the representative list of the intangible cultural Heritage of
Humanity in 2009 by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation
(UNESCO). The initial observation was intended to identify distinctive musical features
of videoed folk song performances within the oral culture, as well as to note the social
context where it originated. Quantitative data of 18 field-based folksong recordings from
five contemporary folk practitioners were subjected to psychoacoustic analysis to search
for common musical features in performance. At last, teaching and learning approaches
of Hua’er music were observed in four higher-education-based lessons. Methodological
implications are drawn from a proposed collaborative learning approach that may able to
ensure positive educational outputs and enrichment of music culture in He, which was
criticised to be dominated by non-indigenous musics. By providing research-based insights
into indigenous folk song and performance, suggestions for related successful pedagogical
strategies are also discussed.
chinese traditional music has been threatened by two powerful forces since the early 1900s
(Guan, J. H., 1995; Hu, C. Y. & Wang, Y. L., 2001). The first threat is from the increasing
1
Contemporary Chinese folk song comprises at least two distinctive genres: (a) new
compositions that adapt certain traditional musical elements; (b) authentic Chinese folk songs in a
traditional social and musical context. Whilst the former are often somewhat mistakenly referred to
as ‘traditional folk song’, the latter are named ‘authentic’ folk songs in this research as the english
equivalent of ‘Yuan sheng tai’ [原生态] (meaning traditional and original) in Chinese.
78 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 6.1 Policy Changes in China’s Higher Music Education in relation to four key
concepts of change
Westernisation of the traditional music culture through widespread access to the global
music media in which Western musics predominate. The potential for a non-Chinese bias in
music curricula is exacerbated by another by-product of this cultural importation, namely the
‘translation’ of a few token traditional Chinese musical examples into modern performance
idioms by Chinese contemporary musicians. Although this allows the folk adaptations
to become accessible and enjoyed by a wider public, there is a danger that the original
source material might be lost. This is because the oral folk tradition, by which succeeding
generations of family musicians pass on both the music and its ‘authentic’ performance
styles, is being overtaken by Westernised musical arrangements. This transformation is now
evidenced in Hua’er music.
Whilst formal music education in China was reportedly can be traced back to the period
from the eleventh to the eighth centuries B.C.,2 modern music education was not introduced
into Chia until the early 1900’s (Zhang, Y. Q., 2005). In the twentieth century, a landmark
for Chinese formal music education was the release of Regius School Rules [‘钦定学堂
章程’], published by the Qing government in 1902. This government decree was considered
to provide the ‘rudiments’ of Chinese higher education (Zhang, Y. Q., 2005; Zhu, K., 2006;
Ren, S. R., 2007) and, more importantly, established the foundation of the values, curricula
and systems that were practised in China’s education across the twentieth century. Today,
it still strongly, however implicitly, influences the content of music education from school
to higher institution levels. In this document, emphases were seen on social and aesthetic
functions of traditional music, which even survived the evolution and reforms of music
education in the preceding hundred years (1910–2009). To be concise, the evolution of
traditional music practice in twentieth-century China can be summarised as falling into four
2
A government organisation for music training was set up in the period between 1100–800
B.C. Music was regarded on as a tool for governing citizens and was promoted among aristocrats.
It also brought some folk musicians into the training process and provided courses such as music
aesthetics, singing and dancing. The training lasted for seven years from age 13 to 20. The organisation
held more than 1,400 students, of whom 600 were musicians (Qu, W. J., 2006).
Music Performance in a ‘Transitional Era’ of Education 79
Westernisation
From its beginning in the twentieth century, China’s modern music education had been
strongly influenced by the German/French conservatory curriculum3, which was initially
brought over from Japan (Dong, X., 2004; Zeng, H. H., 2006; Zhu, K., 2006; Ren,
S. R., 2007). This conservatory model developed slowly across the period of the Republic
of China (1911–1949) and survived the two World Wars and the subsequent civil war.
In 1927, it was firstly implemented by the Shanghai Music Conservatory, the first modern
music college in China, and subsequently by many other conservatories.
Modernisation
There has been no record of any official music curriculum or equivalent documents published
until 1952 when the Outline of Music Course in Colleges was released by the Ministry of
Education, People’s Republic of China (PRC) (Ju, Q. H., 2006; Sun, Y. M., 2006). Based
on this outline, music courses in music colleges and conservatories were reconstructed with
an emphasis on a combination of Chinese and Western music, which was actively applied
during 1952–1982. These educational practices consequently crafted a modernised version
of Chinese traditional music, which embraced not only traditional drama and folk musics,
but also a number of elements of contemporary orchestral composition.
Globalisation
Following the Open-up Policy from 1980,4 Chinese musicians became more actively
involved in international musical events and competitions, and were able to share their
music with audience worldwide (Li, L. S., 1987; Zhao, Q., 2005). This intention to achieve
an international recognition of Chinese music also contributed to a ‘globalising’ vision of
China’s musicology and music education practice.
Tradition
3
The National Musical Conservatory, the first official musical conservatory in modern China,
was founded in Shanghai in 1927. It was led by its Principal Xiao You-mei who studied Music in Tokyo
(1904–1909) and finished his music PhD degree in the Leipzig Conservatory (1913–1915). The first
curriculum of the National Musical Conservatory adopted a system which was widely applied across
European conservatories, such as those of Leipzig and Paris. The components of this German/French
model consisted of: composition, form, instrumentation, counterpoint and fugue, harmony, scoring,
singing, chorus, declamation, dramatic and scenic art, opera, piano, organ, all the instruments of the
classical orchestra, cor anglais, trombone, quartet and orchestra, ensemble, history of music, aesthetics,
metre, Italian, and the piano were obligatory for all pupils studying singing (Cogan, 1974).
4
The Open Policy of China that launched in 1978 proposed an economic opening up of both
domestic and international markets, alongside reforms of the old political system.
80 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Amongst issues that concern China’s music education at policy and pedagogical levels,
a more fundamental question arises and remains controversial: ‘What counts as traditional
Chinese music(s)?’ The situation was whilst resources have been allocated for indigenous
music in college curricula since 1982 (Ministry of Education, P., 1982), music teachers
and researchers realised that there was no music that can be easily agreed to be traditional
(Du, Y. X., 1996; Zheng, S., 2001; Wu, X. Z., 2004). This ambiguity inevitably caused
controversy and frustrations within recent attempts to teach indigenous music in Chinese
higher institutions.
From the 1980s, indigenous music has drawn increasing attention in Chinese society.
In response to this ‘cultural arousal’, so-called ‘traditional Chinese music’ became
a compulsory course for musicians and music teachers from college level across many
regions (Li, L. S., 1987; Lei, K. Y., 1996; Yang, S., 2001; Fu, X. L., 2006; Yin, L. X., 2006).
Hua’er music has also been valued as one of the National and UNESCO intangible cultural
heritages in China, but it is still far from being recognised as an essential part of Chinese
folk song studies (see Figure 6.2). The same applies to many other traditional folk musics
that seem to have been neglected in formal education.
This analysis shows that since 1900, only six studies have been undertaken specifically
on traditional Hua’er performance (see Hua’er & authentic) amongst over 400 publications
about China folk songs (see China & folk song). Although over 6,000 articles and degree
theses concerned Chinese folk music in major CNIK5 academic publications, Hua’er music
is obviously under-representative in contrast to its unique role as an intangible music
heritage. Meanwhile, recent researches suggested that the focus of Chinese academies has
shifted from the question of ‘whether or not traditional Chinese music should be taught?’,
to that of ‘what type(s) of Chinese music will be taught?’, and ‘how they can be taught and
learned?’. This change of objective in China’s music education indicated an increasing
5
CNKI: China National Knowledge Infrastructure Database covers over 90% of academic
publications, journals and newspapers from 1900 onwards.
Music Performance in a ‘Transitional Era’ of Education 81
educational concern with the cultural essence – ‘traditional folk music’ – that has been
neglected for decades (Qiao, J. Z., 1985; Yang, S. G., 2004; Jin, T. L. & Xu, T. X., 2005;
Wang, X. P., 2005; Wang, X. P., 2005).
In a wider social context, the issues discussed in this case study were conceived as four
extensional factors: Policy Reform, Musical Components, Cultural Awareness, and
Pedagogical Innovation, which together comprise folk music education in China today (see
Figure 6.3).
Each of the four factors embraces three topics that were investigated progressively
across the development of data analyses and discussions in each research phase. The research
outcomes suggested that: amongst the four factors, policy reform and cultural awareness
appeared to be closely related in the research interviews, whilst Musical Components
and Pedagogical Innovations are technically associated with each other in the observed
practice of Hua’er songs. The topics within these interrelated factors also responded to
each other. Firstly, with regard to ‘Musical Components’ and ‘Pedagogical Innovation’,
psycho-acoustic observation of Hua’er music identified authentic Hua’er singing as a style
different from that of Western/Chinese Classical singing. This indicates that innovations in
current pedagogy should embrace and be more compatible with different musics. Secondly,
performing styles often seemed to be determined by the different ways that folk music was
learned in formal (stage) and informal contexts (field). Thirdly, ‘creative music teaching/
learning’ was promoted as one core element of a ‘Quality Education’ (State Council,
PRC, 1999), in which diverse music practices can be achieved by embracing and recreating
‘local and indigenous art forms’ in formal music education. This mapping also illustrates the
reason that the influence of policy and musical issues needs to be addressed and analysed
prior to the primary observation and discussion of learning/teaching pedagogies.
Consequently, three research questions were proposed for the initial inquiry into folk
song performance:
These questions derived from an overarching hypothesis: if we (as researchers) were able to
define ‘what is authentic performance’ and the ‘traditional approach’ through which Hua’er
music is taught and learned, we may be able to create a similar experience in the context of
higher education. This would possibly ensure the successful promotion and celebration of
this particular music style, and perhaps other traditional musics in the future.
In the research fieldworks, audio/video recordings of authentic Hua’er singing were
used to investigate the musical and technical gestures of this music. Individual interviews
were conducted with folk singers and music teachers in order to study the musical traditions
and pedagogies of the original cultural setting of this music. Videoed observations were
82 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 6.3 The four extensional factors that shape the transition of folk music
education
made of Hua’er music teaching and learning in both formal and non-formal settings
to 1) identify the challenges of transferring authentic performance to stage performance;
and 2) to explore potentially useful pedagogical strategies that may be applied in formal
classroom teaching. These data were subsequently combined to provide a comprehensive
answer to the observed pedagogical challenges. Consequently, the musical and pedagogical
observations of Hua’er music were developed across the three research fieldworks (phases)
as shown below (see also Figure 6.4):
In total, seven participants of different social status (see Table 6.1) were interviewed, along
with over 20 hours of audio/video recordings of their singing performances and teaching/
learning sessions.
Employing a multi-method research model (see Figure 6.4), a mathematical algorithm for
quantitative data preparation was initially developed (using MS Excel) to identify possible
tuning pattern of the recorded song examples. First, a PC software toolkit6 was used to capture
and analyse additional acoustic features of singers’ voices. Then, the qualitative data from
interviews and teaching observations were coded and analysed using NVivo (QSR, 2008).
Finally, behavioural patterns of music teaching/learning in formal (music studio) and
informal (field singing) contexts were coded and quantified for pedagogical comparisons.
6
Praat (Boersma & Weenink, 2009), WaveSurfer (Sjölander & Beskow, 2006) and PeakFit
(Software, 2007).
Table 6.1 Demographic information of singers
The data from research fieldworks were processed using a three-stage data treatment
(data collection, data analyses and data synthesis) to construct the base of the pyramid
model (see Figure 6.4). This model ensured the methodological consistency of data
processing across research phases and approaches (qualitative and quantitative), as well
as the reliability of the synthesised outcomes of data analyses. Namely, it retained a
strong tie between the ‘raw’ data and the interim findings of each phase, through which
all findings are technically ‘retrievable’ down to the base level – the recorded song
examples, transcribed interviews and studio sessions. In the final stage, qualitative and
quantitative findings/evidence were linked to and compared with one another in case
discrepancies emerged.
Because this methodological orientation was grounded in current pedagogical issues
of authentic performance in formal music teaching, a ‘bottom-up’ approach was developed
as the primary methodology of this research. One benefit of this methodology, or rather a
conception of research logic, was that research findings may emerge from multiple aspects
of the studied phenomenon, and thereby provide the possibility to observe it from different
angles, either underpinning or challenging each other. It also contributed to a comprehensive
understanding of individual components in relation to the entirety of Hua’er music, and
was consequently less influenced by possible bias/restriction imposed by a prescribed
‘theoretical’ framework.
In phase 1, four folk singers,7 whose singing performances were reported to be ‘authentic’
and of high status, were recorded and analysed. In contrast, recordings were also acquired
from a trained male singer (HQX), who is known as a established performer in this style,
but is regarded as less ‘authentic’ by the others. The analyses of singers’ tuning strategies
7
Two males (MES and MJS) plus two females (HJX and LLF).
Fig. 6.5 The overall process of F0 tracking and tuning identification
86 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
started from the fundamental frequency8 (F0) tracking of the 15 unaccompanied song
examples, through which a four-anchor pitch pattern was identified across singers (see
Figure 6.5 exampled by Rec_001).
The tuning analysis suggests that: 1) there is a four-anchor pattern across the examples
of singers and songs, although individual variations were perceivable; 2) more similarities
were shown amongst songs from one singer, as compared with songs by different singers.
In two cases, male and female singers tended to use the same pitches and tuning for the
same song; 3) four anchors emerged at around 200 cent, 700 cent, 900 cent, 1400 cent
above a3 = 223. These are roughly equivalent to So, Do, Re and the higher Sol of a diatonic
scale. These results indicate a possible solution to the conventional notation of the examples
of folk songs, with the proviso that the ‘scale’ could be Pythagorean as discovered later in
Figure 6.6.
Figure 6.6 shows that both authentic and trained singers had a tendency towards
Pythagorean tuning in their performances in terms of matching cases and overall
percentages. This primary finding of singers’ tuning strategy/strategies is partly
supported by an alternative method, in which intervals of each two adjacent anchors were
observed individually (Yang & Welch etc., 2014). Other aspects of the acoustic outputs
of singers’ voices were also investigated and compared at a more ‘microscopic’ level to
investigate whether authentic and trained singers are also differences in any other acoustic
measurements of their voices, such as and, by implication, musical features of ‘Gliding’,
‘Shan’ and ‘Jiasheng’.
‘Gliding tone’ is a musical inflection that was manipulated (deliberately or
unconsciously) by folk singers to produce a continuous rising or falling of the initial pitch.
A similar concept associated with this singing skill is ‘sliding tone’ in Everett’s detailed
discussion of Chinese opera singing. Everett defined ‘sliding tone’ as ‘a glide between two
notes in a continuous motion, somewhat akin to a glissando’ (Everett & Lau, 2004, p122),
which indicates a strong relationship between speaking intonations and Chinese operatic
8
A fundamental frequency is the lowest frequency in a resonating system, such as human voice.
In this particular example, it suggests the vocal pitches produces by the singer.
Music Performance in a ‘Transitional Era’ of Education 87
sliding. In the case of Hua’er singing, gliding tones were also influenced by intonations of
the local dialect, however, most observed examples do not necessarily have a ‘destination’
pitch. Rather, these tones often ‘cut off’ suddenly after a short rising or falling of the pitch,
leaving a tiny sound ‘gap’ that approximates a demisemiquaver rest.
‘Shan’ is a special vocal ornament that sounds more like a sustained trill periodically
interrupted by an abrupt ‘break-up’ during continuous phonation. Visual inspection of its
acoustic output, using Praat, demonstrated that ‘Shan’ can be described as an expanded
Western Classical vibrato in term of pitch range (see Figure 6.7). It was often used as a
transitional vocal ornamentation between two pitches. Some examples also suggested that
it worked as supplementary sound event that helped singers to maintain or balance the
structure of phrases.
‘Jiasheng’ was observed to be a featured singing technique that shares similar acoustic
features as Western Classical falsetto singing. It often shows:
In MES’s voice, c#5 (554Hz) was seen to be the shifting point of ‘Jiasheng’ and ‘Zhensheng’
(a lower vocal register), which were commonly used to refer two significantly different
types of phonation by both authentic and trained singers (see Figure 6.8).
9
In acoustics, it refers to a peak in the sound envelope and/or to a resonance in sound sources.
It is often measured as an amplitude peak in the frequency spectrum of the sound, using a spectrogram
or a spectrum analyser. They can be used as distinguishing frequency components of different singing
styles in research (Oliveira et al., 2001).
88 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
In Figure 6.8, the ranges of the vocal formants (F0–F5) of the two voices were separated
by vertical dashes, where four sets of vocal formants of an authentic folk singer (MES) and
a trained singer (HQX, the trained singer) singing vowel ‘e’ at two similar pitches. Whilst
significantly different from each other in terms of phonation, the two singers were highly
consistent with themselves at both high and low pitches. Compared with MES, HQX had
a much higher F1 frequency, which tended to be a typical feature of a ‘throaty voice’. This
was reported to be associated with a higher F1, a lower F2 in front vowels, and a lower F4 in
all vowels (Laukkanen et al., 2006). HQX had a clear ‘Singer’s formant’ (Sundberg J., 1977)
at 2900Hz (F3), whilst MES showed signs of a ‘Speaker’s formant’ (Cleveland et al., 2001)
at 3300Hz (F3). Interestingly, the F4 (around 3500Hz) of the trained voice was also
approximate to a ‘Speaker’s formant’. Subsequent Long-term Average Spectrum (LTAS)
analysis of all examples confirmed that HQX had a clear ‘singer’s formant’ and MES had a
strong ‘speaker’s formant’ (see Figure 6.9).
Although the acoustic outcomes above may not give direct directions as to what should
be done to reproduce an authentic singing style exactly, two key points had emerged from
the analyses:
The tuning analyses in this phase indicate that the performances of authentic singers
may apply a non-equal-tempered tuning scale of four anchor pitches (can be five in some
examples). Therefore, the piano, because of its equally tempered tuning, may not be suitable
for authentic folk song accompaniment, even though it has been one of the most popular
accompanying instruments in formal music training, especially vocal instruction. Attempts
to notate authentic folk songs with the aid of pitch tracking software (such as SoloExplorer)
showed staff notation to be insufficient, as it appeared to be less compatible with the pitch
Music Performance in a ‘Transitional Era’ of Education 89
and tuning strategies used by authentic singers. Especially in the case that pitch variations
were identified within a note, along with a variable reference pitch (a3). As a result, it
would be better to introduce traditional musical instruments that have the identical tuning
method to authentic singing into music classes. With these psychoacoustic analyses, certain
vocal features of Hua’er performance appear to be possibly describable and demonstrable
in a visual form, which 1) provides additional clues to develop students’ understanding
of vocal phenomena, 2) help teachers and learners to acquire in-depth understandings of
authentic folk singing, which in turn 3) offer insights into the generation of new teaching
pedagogies. It was also suggested that: without addressing these issues properly in formal
music training, young musicians and teachers in conservatories or college settings are very
likely to fail to achieve the ‘authentic singing’ style that they seek to reproduce. When a
belief persists that folk song singing is only related to technical minutiae and/or a simple
pentatonic style, both teachers and students are very likely to disregard the complexity
of folk singing and underestimate the musical and pedagogical challenges in folk music
learning. As a consequence, a less promising outcome of folk song learning is foreseen.
Authenticity in Hua’er performance had always been integrated with particular Hua’er
singers whose performances were considered to be faithful to the originals (the so-called
tradition). As the modern media has been transforming the context of the ‘original’ Hua’er
music style through a changing social identity of folk singers in local society, musical
interactions amongst singers and genre became increasingly active. Comparisons between
the older/younger and male/female singers indicated that the concept of ‘authentic’ is both
dynamic and ‘master oriented’. The key issue in the diversification of ‘authenticity’ was
reported to be associated with the adherence of singers’ performances in relation to the
expectations from local people. Authentic singers are, consciously or unconsciously, trying
to rescue traditional folksongs from ‘modern music transformation’. They ‘hold tight’ to the
original musical elements, and tend to resist the modern performance practices and tastes
90 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
of audiences. In contrast, trained singers and some young singers, who are also committed
to the renaissance of Hua’er, are more likely to combine, develop and popularise traditions.
Whilst these two approaches work in parallel with constant dialogue so as to develop a
prosperous future for Hua’er music, it was argued that if traditions were not going to be
adhered to, where would be the folk music to be ‘improvised’?
Pedagogical challenges are also in need of researched in order to ‘transplant’ authentic
performance into a formal learning context. In contrast to the ‘homogeneous’ outcomes of
formal music training that has been criticised since the 1990’s (Xu J.D., 2005), authenticity
became a key word implicitly associated with diverse musical expression. Due to the
dynamic nature of folk music practices, ‘authenticity’ in this research was initially used
to denote the traditionalism within the recorded folk songs. The definition of authenticity
remained a subjective judgement until coherent research evidence emerged from phases 1
and 2, which underpin the three dependent conceptual components of authenticity (see
Figure 6.10).
The authenticity of folk music performance seems to rely on: 1) recognised master
performance from particular folk singer(s); 2) the presence of representative musical
features in singers’ singing; and 3) the approval of a majority of local folk audience.
Through these elements, Hua’er music was transmitted and shaped across the oral folk
tradition continuously. Therefore, musical authenticity is an evaluation and/or judgement
that people made on particular musical features of a performance (or performances) under
the influence of certain social and cultural values.
Music Performance in a ‘Transitional Era’ of Education 91
Four individual music sessions were recorded with a student (TLW) and two tutors (MES
and YMN). Each tutor was given two Hua’er songs (Rec_002 and Rec_018 from Phase 1)
to teach, one for each session. Short individual interviews were also conducted with the
three participants after sessions.
A series of examples were drawn from the qualitative data collected from these interviews
and classroom observations. The data analysis revealed a set of musical components and
pedagogical strategies that were used by the two tutors in teaching (see Figure 6.11).
Figure 6.11 shows a comparison of tutors’ teaching activities during the four sessions
in terms of time expenditure. The teaching style of YMN appeared to be more inwardly
consistent than MES. The teaching/learning experience and the outcome were reported to
be positive and encouraging by the students (TLW).
Whilst the analysis of the sessions offered an explicit representation of the teaching
process and the behavioural patterns of each of the participants, it provided relatively
less information about the interrelations amongst these activities. In other words, it
only evidenced what types of musical components and pedagogical strategies possibly
contributed to the effectiveness of the teaching/learning in a particular context.
Consequently, a rounded approach, which might ensure an effective teaching and learning
of authentic folk song, was observed in the light of the ten effective learning and teaching
principles (TLRP, 2008, 2009) and Entwistle’s (2009, p. 119) learning cycle, in which folk
music, student and tutors were conceived as the three interactive elements who connected
together all the classroom activities and learning phases (see Figure 6.12).
As shown in Figure 6.12, folk music is the base material that the student and the tutors
to work with. This diagram indicates that neither tutors nor the student actually ‘have’ the
music (authentic folk music) in place when learning/teaching is initiated. Even the expert
folk singer (MES) would only be able to present one type of authentic folk singing, which
is involved in the evolutionary cycle of musical authenticity (see Figure 6.10). Therefore,
teaching/learning turned out to be a communicative process between the three elements
wherein knowledge development took place. The tutors may not necessarily be the
92 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 6.12 The three interactive elements within folk music education
‘knowledge holders’, rather, they tend to play roles of helper and co-researcher to support
student’s learning of folk music, which they are less experienced.
This education arrangement may bring potential technical challenges to university
music teachers in China who are mostly trained as Western classical or Chinese classical
musicians. The first challenges is that although music teachers in HE are likely to be at
the same stage as their students in Hua’er music practice, they are expected to have an
equivalent level of professional knowledge of folk music, as they have with classical
genres. On the other hand, authentic folk musicians who were usually regarded as
authorities were hoped to support and instruct teachers and students in this context, but
few of them may have experience of higher education. As a result, the reproduction of
authentic Hua’er songs in a university classroom demands a cooperative relationship
amongst authentic singers and teachers, along with space for peer learning amongst
students and/or learning participants. This model also requires an interactive learning
process that embraces authentic performance and pedagogical strategies with organised
classroom activities, in which both school and non-school participants will find
comfortable, familiar and inspiring. Nevertheless, both teachers and authentic singers
who are admired as elites in their fields may inevitably confront challenges to their
professional authority.
Music Performance in a ‘Transitional Era’ of Education 93
Implications
The research findings above suggested that the challenge of teaching authentic folk singing
is not solely a pedagogical issue, but also associated with cultural tradition and academic
bias. The pedagogical issues became more challenging in HE due to the difference between
formal and informal approaches to teaching because the current college curriculum tends
to understand any non-classical Western or Chinese music as incompatible with a highly
organised teaching system. The strategy to promote the practice of authentic folk music in
HE not only implies the introduction of indigenous music material to students, but also the
development of their musical and cultural understanding of related music traditions.
It was seen that college music teachers, who tend to perceive themselves as well trained
educators and musicians, are less prepared to deal with other-than-classical music and are
sometimes resistant to experimental folk music teaching. Consequently, the introduction
of authentic folk music into colleges may also initiate a movement from teacher-organised
learning to a more cooperative approach, which can be developed by tutors and students
with the support from folk singers. For students, their learning procedures can be more
diverse in a dual-channel input of knowledge (the college tutor and the folk singer). This
may require students to balance the two approaches constantly, and to develop appropriate
learning strategies in line with their learning stages. For teachers, in order to achieve teaching
objectives, a carefully designed teaching plan must embrace knowledge of resources, as well
as appropriate pedagogical strategies. Also, the evaluation process (or system) should be
compatible with this new course design, and be able to reflect the effectiveness and efficacy
of teaching/learning outcomes in folk music competency and cultural understanding.
Peroration
Whilst this research topic responded to developments in China’s national music curriculum,
it is not a policy-driven study of folk music education. Rather, it was developed from personal
learning and professional teaching experiences of music, and was greatly influenced by the
spontaneous awakening of indigenous musics in contemporary Chinese society. The policy
change reflected the increasing demand for musical diversity in China’s higher education
and music market. Taking advantage of the national scheme dedicated to the protection of
the folk music heritage, pedagogical challenges to ensure the continued survival of folk
songs that has long been discussed as a crucial issue since the 1970s. The findings and
indications of this case study have sought a more comprehensive understanding of folk
music education in the light of a ‘cultural music practice’ in a student-centred learning
environment. Formal and informal learning experiences were encouraged to join together
to achieve effective learning outcomes. As one of the pioneer researches in this field, most
research findings that have been addressed are original and, yet, open to further research
inquiries. However, it is apparent that all these aspects of folk music education are evidence
of a development in college-based music practice alongside reorganisations of music
pedagogy and curricula. This also contributes to the shaping of a feasible framework, which
may be termed ‘post-conservatory’ model (see Jørgensen, 2009, p. 78), for the education
of music students with different musical demands. By this I mean that, rather than being
confined to one or two genres of music, professional music education at college level
should offer opportunities for diverse musical practices, in which multiple musical idioms
are celebrated and contribute to the development of young musicians.
94 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
References
Introduction
the concept of an ideal musician is elusive. Arguably, several other concepts may be
interpreted as a proxy for ‘ideal musician’, such as musical expertise (lehmann and
gruber, 2006), musical ability (Hallam, 2010), musical aptitude (Boyle, 1992) and musical
role models (ivaldi and o’neill, 2008).
Hallam (2010) investigated understandings of ‘musical ability’ and reported that
amongst musicians, the idea of ‘communication’ was central. six-hundred and sixty-six
participants, including 132 amateur musicians and 102 professional musicians, responded
to a five-point rating scale comprising 77 individual statements. Amongst the musicians
the concept of musical ability was strongly related to items referring to communication
of emotions and musical interpretations with both the audience and other performers.
similarly, Holtz (2009, p. 207) found that musical artists pursued aesthetic ideals that had
communication at their core. using qualitative interview methods with 17 composers and
jazz musicians, Holtz identified those whose ideal was to communicate the abstract beauty
of musical structures, those who thought of music as the ‘true language of the heart’ and
those who were driven to disclose their ‘feelings and sensations’ through music.
similar discourses relating to musical ideals may be traced to the nineteenth century.
Music critic, conductor, pianist and composer e. t. A. Hoffman, whose life spanned the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, claimed that ‘to move us mightily, the artist must be
deeply affected in his [sic] own heart’ (Harich, 1924, as cited in lowinsky, 1964, p. 325).
robert schumann (1849, cited in Macdonald, 2002, p. 527) elucidated this view when he
stated that:
100 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
You are not musical if, eyes glued nervously to the notes, you play a piece painfully
through to the end. … But you are … if you have music not just in your fingers but in your
head and your heart.
Indeed, the ideal musician has been characterised as someone whose primary responsibility
is to rise above technical matters, ‘to increase his [sic] sensitivity to the inner spirit of
the music and to communicate this spirit to others’ (Sigel, 1966, p. 65). Great musicians,
according to Fano and Gregory (1917, p. 339), ‘aspire to widen the horizons of technical
expression in musical art’.
In contrast, Ivalidi and O’Neill (2008) investigated reasons for admiring musical role
models amongst 55 participants aged 13–14. Focus group interviews revealed that the
adolescents (amongst whom 16 played instruments, 28 had dropped out of instrumental
learning and 11 had never played) admired musicians who were dedicated, were popular
and who had ability. ‘Ability’ was conceptualised here as perseverance through difficulties,
rather than representing musical attributes or communication.
Frederickson and Rooney (1988) proposed a broad concept of ideal musicianship that
comprises artistic accomplishment, recognition, uniqueness, creativity and expressivity.
Ideal musicians, according to this view, are dedicated to artistic performance and engaged
in expressive tasks requiring recognition and aesthetic responses from audiences. This
notion reflects the view of Westby (1960), who described idealized self-images of
symphony musicians as gifted and highly skilled artists with strong commitments to
aesthetic values.
The pinnacle of musical development, according to Hargreaves (1996), involves both
mastery and the capacity for self-reflection, as well as the ability to transcend conventions.
In Swanick and Tillman’s (1986) spiral model of musical development the highest
metacognitive mode is distinguished by the ability to reflect upon and convey emotional
and expressive power in music, with this being guided by universal understandings about
music. However, Bennett (2007, p. 185) challenged such concepts of ideal musicians,
asserting that an ideal musician in the music profession of the twenty-first century requires
more than musical attributes and creativity: ‘In addition to performance skills, musicians
require the skills to run a small business, the confidence to create new opportunities,
pedagogical and communication skills for use in educational, ensemble and community
settings, industry knowledge and strong professional networks.’
Ideology in relation to musical expertise thus reflects notions of ‘absolute expertise’,
whereby ‘greatness or creativity arises from … unique innate talent’ (Chi, 2006, p. 22)
as well as an alternative rational approach involving the deliberate acquisition of skills
and knowledge. The former perspective on musical excellence is critiqued by Howe,
Davidson and Sloboda (1998) who contend that the extent to which musical potential
may be realized is influenced more by environmental factors such as training and practise
than by any potentially genetically determined individual differences in special abilities.
However, the competing discourses of ‘mystery’ (relating to innate, absolute expertise) and
‘mastery’ (relating to a rational process of acquired expertise) were found to be prominent
in the constructions of musical identities amongst professional jazz musicians (Wilson &
MacDonald, 2005).
Lehmann, Sloboda and Woody (2007) emphasize the central role that musical mental
representations play in the formulation of socially constructed views of musical expertise.
According to this view, developing musicians construct mental representations of their
musical ideals, which in turn serve as a framework for musical aspirations, musical self-
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 101
efficacy and musical self-regulation. This framework may be interpreted through the lens
of ‘possible selves’, or ‘individuals’ ideas of what they might become, what they would
like to become … the manifestations of one’s goals, aspirations, motives, fears and threats’
(Markus and Ruvolo, 1989, p. 212).
Possible Selves
The theory of possible selves (Markus and Ruvolo, 1989) arose from social-cognitive
understandings of self-concept and interprets individuals’ conceptions of future selves
as a medium through which growth and goal achievement may occur (Rossiter, 2007).
Possible selves may be ideal and hoped-for selves, but also may include those that are
feared and dreaded. According to this theory, possible selves function as a motivational
driver and conceptual framework that underpins choices and goal directed behaviour. Thus,
possible selves may serve as a link between self-concept, motivation and socio-cultural
understandings of concepts such as those concerned with ideal musicians, noted above
(Erikson, 2007).
Possible selves are not abstract or vague notions of ‘other’ ways of being. Rather,
they are selves that are psychologically accessible and personally meaningful for each
individual (Rossiter, 2007). Key features of possible selves are salience and elaboration
(King and Hicks, 2007). Salience refers to the personal investment in a possible self
and the extent to which that possible self functions as a motivational force. Elaboration
refers to the depth of understanding an individual holds in relation to the possible self,
for example, the ‘vividness, emotionality and detail’ in which it is conceptualised (ibid.,
p. 627). Thus, possible selves may in some aspects be known in the present through
inner experiences that provide a ‘concrete notion of being in a distinct future situation’
(Erikson, 2007, p. 349).
Ibarra (1999) focused on the place of role models in the construction of possible
professional selves, suggesting that they function as reference points for experimentation
with provisional selves and evaluation of new possible selves in relation to internal and
external standards. Rossiter (2007) added that the teachers and mentors can, as role models,
motivate learners to develop vivid conceptions of who they would like to be and elaborate
vicarious knowledge of what it would be like to be that person. Through observation,
interactions, experimentation and collaboration, students may thus develop ideal musical
selves into well-understood possible selves.
Rossiter’s research (2007), carried out in the context of adult further education,
revealed great potential for teachers to mediate the space between ideal and possible selves.
For example, teachers supported students in the process of elaborating and embellishing
their understandings of their possible selves. Furthermore, where teachers provided
opportunities for incremental success and supported students with encouragement and
strategies for perseverance, students’ self-efficacy beliefs were strengthened in relation to
their possible selves. In some instances, the students even rediscovered or resurrected lost
possible selves.
The next section of this chapter will explore concepts of ideal teachers. We will, later in
the chapter, assess whether ‘ideal teachers’ may be interpreted as those who are equipped
with strategies for mediating any gap between students’ possible and ideal selves.
102 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
What constitutes a successful, or ideal, educator has been explored by researchers for some
time now. Van Gennip and Vrieze (2008) believe that the evaluation of a good teacher
should be based on the core role of teaching, comprising (1) content knowledge and
matching didactics, (2) the pedagogical-didactical interventions that are needed and (3) the
teachers’ personality. Other authors focus on teacher identity in determining teacher quality.
Søreide (2006) described four identity constructions: (1) the caring and kind teacher, (2)
the creative and innovative teacher, (3) the professional teacher and (4) the typical teacher.
Søreide proposes that the negotiation between multiple identities is a necessary part of the
construction of teacher identity.
After reviewing extensive music-related and general education literature, Pembrook
and Craig (2002) concluded that teacher effectiveness relates to the possession of certain
personality traits that can be grouped into three categories: (1) internal qualities, (2)
relating to others and (3) social control/group management. Internal qualities may include
confidence, conscientiousness, creativity, emotional stability, enthusiasm, happiness,
independence and self-control. Relating to others involves the evidence of certain
behaviours towards the student, such as empathy, emotional sensitivity, extroversion,
encouragement, friendliness, interest, humour, relaxed approach and trust. Social control/
group management relates to characteristics and behaviours such as authority, cooperation,
fairness, flexibility, leadership, patience, persistence and realism. According to Arnon and
Reichel (2007), research looking into student perceptions what constitutes a good teacher
points to two important components: 1) professional knowledge (both of the subject taught
as well as didactic knowledge) and 2) an appropriate personality.
In the context of music, much research has demonstrated the central influence of the
teacher in supporting the development of performance skills, guiding learners, acting as
a role model that students look up to and sustaining student motivation (Creech, 2009;
Davidson et al., 1997; Howe and Sloboda, 1991; Manturzewska, 1990; Sosniak, 1990).
It is not surprising that the biographies of great musicians often reveal the presence of a
key adult (e.g., a teacher) that acts as an external motivational factor (Sloboda et al., 1996).
Undoubtedly, the teacher has an influential role in the process whereby young musicians strive
towards their possible selves. Previous research suggests that teachers have the capacity to
support students in making a personal investment in their ideal musical selves. Furthermore,
teachers may be key figures who help students to understand these ideal selves in sufficient
detail so that any gap between their ‘possible’ and ‘ideal’ musical self-concept is diminished.
Concepts of ideal musicians comprised one focus of the Investigating Musical Performance
research, involving higher education music students and professional musicians specialising
in jazz, popular, Scottish traditional and Western classical genres (Welch, Duffy, Potter and
Whyton, 2006).
Thematic analyses of in-depth interviews with 27 musicians revealed an account of ideal
musicians whereby aspects of musical expertise were embedded within a more complex
model of ideal musical selves (Figure 7.1). According to this model, ideal musicians were
conceptualised as those whose performance skills and musical versatility were underpinned
by innate absolute expertise, specific personality factors and a commitment to excellence.
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 103
(An ideal musician is) trying to express something that is inexpressible in other means
(classical). Completely focused … Everything that you do should be to advance yourself
as a musician (jazz). You need to be very confident … To be a good performer you have
to have a sort of imperviousness to danger … you have to have a sort of inner strength,
which is very powerful. And also personality – the sort of virtuoso showman kind of thing
(classical). Someone who had very good communication skills … to be able to draw people
104 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
in and to find ways of making the music comprehensible and accessible to people in order
to generate audiences (jazz). … people with a sense of purpose … anybody who just goes
for it really, but with real passion and definitely things that stir things up and cause people
to laugh or to cry. If you want to make somebody cry then don’t do it in half measures. Put
them in tears for either a good reason or a bad reason (popular). Somebody who knows
what they want and they’ve gone out there and achieved that. Internal drive, because you
have to be able to dedicate a lot of time and energy to go for that and nothing else over a
number of years (classical). They also work extremely hard practising. … you’ve got to
have an amazing character … other than the phenomenal technique, and you’ve got to be
very single minded. A level of discipline that I could only aspire to (Scottish traditional). A
very high degree of technical competence, but they would have the musical intuition not to
have to demonstrate it all the time (jazz). You have to have humility as a performer; if your
ego is too powerful, as it very-very often is, then you’re not going to be really the best. To
my mind, the very best performers have that sense of humility (classical). Somebody who
is in control of their own musical destiny (popular).
Absolute Expertise
A discourse describing ideal musicians in terms of natural, innate talent and creativity
was evident in the texts of undergraduates and professional musicians. According to the
professional musicians:
(An ideal musician is) massive talent, a hugely able musician, prodigiously talented
musician. I do believe in ability, natural ability but then it has to be cultivated in the right
way (classical). You’ve got to have some talent. There’s a lot of people making music
with no talent but they’ve got the technology which is sort of irritating as well (popular).
Talent … She was multi-talented too. I think a lot of it is their natural abilities (Scottish
traditional). Ideally … to have a vision of what you want to do with your music and where
you want your music to go and to try to transcend this notion of quality (jazz). What I think
is unique about them and important is that they found their own sound and they found their
own way of making music. That’s someone who’s just brimming over with love of music.
So, no, I think it’s got to be all internal really (classical).
The musician that I would love to be … is someone who is naturally very very musical,
not naturally just very good at an instrument, but whatever they do, whatever instrument
they play, music comes out. I really admire that in people (classical). … I would love to
be a natural musician who is creative and original. I think that’s important in any music
(jazz). I think there’s a spectrum on talent and work and depending on how talented you
are, you can either not have to work very hard and get a satisfactory result, but if you’re
not very talented you can work very hard and achieve, I wouldn’t say as much (classical).
Obviously some people are more gifted (popular). (Ideal musicians are) highly talented in
whatever they choose to do (Scottish traditional).
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 105
Pursuit of Excellence
Performance Skills
You have to develop your artistic side. What you have then is the beginnings of musical, of
deep musical skill. But then you have to learn about all the things that produce this music,
which you want to try to interpret, you have to learn about the context, you have to learn
about the history and the philosophy, you know. You also have to allow yourself to melt
into the music, to absorb it, to find in it what’s there … You’ve got to find a sort of softness,
in order to make yourself sensitive to those things in music. You need to have a fantastic
memory. (An ideal musician is) totally musical, charismatic, absolutely loves his playing.
I think he’s phenomenal (classical).
Both jazz and classical musicians highlighted the importance of ensemble playing, in their
conceptions of ideal musicians:
Incredible musicality, magnificent ensemble playing. You need that ensemble feel. It’s
convincing. It’s so musical. Their understanding of what they’re doing, their intelligence
comes through. And I think that really is what you listen to (classical). They didn’t
necessarily spend too long practising on their own, to developing their own way of
playing, but much more evolved within a community of musicians that they’re part of. I
think that way of being a musician, who you’re not the lone virtuoso musician, sort of out
there defining themselves through that, you’re actually part of a group of musicians and
you define yourself through the musical relationships that you have, but at the same time
you still have a vision (jazz).
106 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Undergraduate musicians representing classical, jazz and Scottish Traditional music referred
to aspects of individual and ensemble musicianship in their accounts of ideal musicians:
(An ideal musician is) someone who has an enthusiasm for the repertoire (classical). It’s
important to have a knowledge of all the repertoire and be excited about it all (Scottish
traditional). An ideal musician – someone with a good memory, I think! Someone who has
a huge awareness of what they’re trying to portray, I think, in whatever genre that may be
(classical). (My ideal is) playing in ensemble and doing something with other people – I
think that’s quite important (jazz).
Versatility
The theme of versatility was given equal prominence by the undergraduate and professional
musicians. Undergraduate musicians representing all of the musical genres alluded to
concepts of musical versatility:
(An ideal musician) is expert in a range of genres, certainly (classical). (Ideal musicians)
play what is needed. Any more than that is too much. … if they have to take the lead, to
take the lead; and if they have to sit back, to sit back. That is my whole approach (popular).
A jack of all trades, would be my overall best musician, that’s somebody not who would
just be considered a trumpet player but somebody who could sit down in a recording
session, a jazz session, folk, anything, an all round, anything (classical). Versatility as well.
That’s the thing – you don’t learn an instrument – you’ve got to be able to sit down and
do everything, If you’re a musician, it shouldn’t really matter what you do (classical). It’s
a musical performance at the end of the day. … they (musicians) need to really broaden
their mind out and decide just what’s musical performance instead this whole idea of by
the book, sort of thing which is, seems to be the rule everywhere nowadays (Scottish
traditional). Very good musicians, because they do listen for everything in music all over
the world, any sort of influences they can, and they do it in their music, and that’s what
makes them different, that’s what makes them stand out (Scottish traditional). (An ideal
musician is) available to play in lots of different styles and do whatever anybody asks of
them. Being able to play a lot of different styles is important to me; to be able to say ‘yeah,
I’ll do that no problem’ (popular).
Similarly, professional musicians representing all of the four musical genres placed a high
value on musical versatility:
(An ideal musician) will work in any genre, jazz, concert band, hard core rock and punk
projects, but also classical … at a very high level (popular). The profession has changed
so much now that it’s not really a lot of space to specialise. An ideal classical musician
for me is somebody who’s not just into classical music (classical). You know, I’ve got a
broad taste in music and I’ve listened to everything from jazz to rock, to pop … yeah,
everything. I think it’s important to get inspiration from lots of … lots of sources, really. I
think that makes into a better musician, more rounded and more open-minded (classical).
That feeling of being able to take things anywhere and being able to work together to
create something on the spur of the moment … I find that it’s really exhilarating … very
challenging intellectually, emotionally, musically (jazz). An ideal musician is somebody
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 107
Fig. 7.2 The composition of the perceived identity of ideal instrumental teachers
who is very-very secure in their own tradition, but who is also quite happy to take
influences from other traditions and leave out what they don’t like (Scottish traditional).
The analysis of the interviews revealed a number of qualities forming the components
comprising the perceived identity of instrumental teachers. These are summarised under
four overarching themes, as indicated by Figure 7.2:
In total, 62 passages of text from the 27 interview transcripts made reference to
characteristics relating to the perceived identity of ideal instrumental teachers and were
categorised under the four overarching themes illustrated in Figure 7.2. These are described
in more detail below, including examples from representative quotations within each of
the themes.
Personal Skills
A good teacher is someone who cares that you’re learning something and that inspires
you … (jazz).
108 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
The best teacher I ever had … was so fun, and she was completely off the wall, and
she would invent really silly things to get you excited and interested in the music
(Scottish traditional).
A teacher who allows – who’s open-minded – that’s very important, and not set in their
own ways … (classical).
Somebody with charisma, somebody that’s inspiring, somebody that can facilitate, that
doesn’t take a dictatorial approach (Scottish traditional).
… the patient technicians who wheel away at things, but who still make it fun … very
intuitive people needed for teachers (classical).
Social Skills
The social aspect of the identity of a good instrumental teacher was also mentioned during
the interviews. This was considered to be particularly important in the establishment of
rapport between teacher and student, as well as effective communication. Musicians spoke
about the positive effects of teachers forming a personal relationship with students, being
friendly, being understanding and empathetic, and being good communicators. Notions of
the social dimension of the identity of instrumental teachers were held by musicians across
all musical genres, and varying levels of expertise:
… he was my friend more than my teacher … The fact that he was a friend I think helped
a lot; I felt the he was interested in seeing me progress (popular).
He’s very positive, even though he does say things that need doing. … he doesn’t stay in
his ivory tower overlooking – he can relate to you and treat you as a person … he’s more
friendly, I would say (classical).
I think first of all you’ve got to have humanity, you’ve got to have empathy with people …
you’ve got to be able to imagine what it’s like inside their head and try to imagine what
their difficulties are so that you can then help them (classical).
The most important thing is that they need to be a good communicator. I mean, some people
are not good at that … some musicians are great players and terrible teachers … I don’t
know, my feeling about it is that a good teacher is somebody that can really communicate
what they want (Scottish traditional).
Whilst I haven’t had much formal teaching experience, I have been to the odd lesson from
a ‘great’ saxophonist and they’ve not been uniformly good experiences. Because many
fantastically gifted musicians are not particularly good communicators and they tend to
say ‘well, this is what I did, and this is what you must do … So, basically, ‘you can’t play
like me, there’s problems here, here and here, go do x, y and z and then you’ll be a good
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 109
musician, right now you’re a bad musician’. So, [ideal teachers are] people that avoid that
particular approach and are able to go to somebody else’s place and say, well, you know,
and inspire people. Make the lesson enjoyable, as well! (jazz)
Teaching Skills
He’s one of those players that can do everything: he can teach me scales and how to
play arpeggios, one week, and the next week he’ll teach me to play some random Primus
(alternative metal band) track. I really like that (popular).
… an ideal teacher would listen and make sure they’re going at the pupil’s pace, and
sticking to things that they know they want to do, and maybe when they’re moving on and
progress, pushing them more and more and getting them into stuff that maybe they want
to do (Scottish traditional).
… even though I was only 16 or 17, from the very first lesson I had with him, he kind of
treated me as a professional … He was very strict, but it worked … he treated me like I was
already looking to get professional work, from the age of 17 (classical).
An ideal teacher would be someone who had faith in me. I had one in the past who hand-
picked me to be his violin pupil … he saw me playing in a group … that felt very good,
and that’s how I improved the most – him having faith in me and saying ‘you need to
practice’ (classical).
I think now I would prefer it if my teachers treated me like I was a bit younger – I’m not
so good with being told ‘you work on that and let me know what you want to do next
lesson.’ I like stuff to be quite directed, in that sense. Maybe not with other things, but with
learning instruments, learning violin, I need someone to tell me what I need to have done,
because I think I don’t really know for myself yet what I should expect, and so I quite like
targets (classical).
Actually he’s good at demonstrating things but also … he’d find little things for me to
imagine, like certain bowing things – imagine you’re drawing this shape, or I was shifting
up to a high position – ‘think of the Death Star in Star Wars’ – I get it now!! He’s good
at finding ways – if I don’t really get it he’ll find something else that makes sense to
me, and will come up with something – usually some ridiculous mental image! He’s
great! (classical)
110 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
… you’re there to assist, you’re there to help, guide, you’re not there to beef up your own
importance. So you are a servant, really of the student in many ways … you’re looking to
answer the question ‘how can I help this student? How can I help this student to become a
better player?’ … Whether it be through a technical, sorting out of a technical problem, or
perhaps more often, motivating them to just practise more, play more, be more interested,
get more fun out of it, find the fun, find the value that you yourself feel (classical).
I think to be responsive to the person’s own motivation … I think it’s all about finding out
where they’re at, what they’re interested in and then supporting them as they find out about
that. So it’s much more facilitation rather than teaching. So I think having the confidence
and also the sort of broad range of skills to be able to help somebody to do that makes a
good teacher (jazz, portfolio).
I don’t want a trumpet teacher. I want a musician that plays really nice tunes that has got
the time, the patience, the understanding, to come along, talk people through scales and
bits and pieces that you need to know, but then develop the group on their terms rather
than having a particular pattern of how to do things and then we’ll all copy that (popular).
Musicianship Skills
Musicianship skills were considered by all of the musicians to be very important in the
identity of ideal instrumental teachers. These references focused on notions of being
knowledgeable, a holistic musician, an expert performer, as well as seeing oneself as a
lifelong learner:
An ideal teacher for me is someone who’s going to stretch me … I want someone who is
influenced by loads of different styles so that they can give me that, they can transfer onto
me, rather than someone who’s only interested in one style (Scottish traditional).
Ideal teacher, he’s a performing artist and a scholar put together, which in my mind is
perfect. A scholar related to playing the cello, he’s an absolute specialist in performance
styles and stylistic interpretation of works. But he’s also a very nice guy, and a family
guy, and someone who’s worked in the profession for 15 years and at the top of his game,
but still learning constantly. And he’s sort of bringing that over to his students (classical).
Obviously being knowledgeable – I always hate that if you get someone and you know
they don’t really understand it themselves, but instead of saying ‘I’m sorry; I don’t know –
I’ll refer you to somebody who can help’ they make something up. Several times in my
life I’ve been confused by something when someone’s just tried to get out of the situation
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 111
rather than say ‘I don’t know that either – let’s find out’. So I think being knowledgeable,
being honest and being enthusiastic – quite general (classical).
They need to know the stuff, like, backwards. You know, they’ve got to be 100% secure in
their knowledge, technical knowledge, you know, have good training themselves, lots of
experience in different … different areas … (classical).
I think it’s someone who has to be an amazing musician that you admire … For me, a
teacher is someone who brings you into the community within which he is part of, he or
she is part of … and for that to happen, they have to be telling you about things they’re
doing at that time, you know? (jazz)
Implications for Practice: Can Teachers Mediate the Space between Concepts of
Ideal Musicians and Possible Musical Selves?
Overall, musicians across the four musical genres held similar perceptions about what
characterizes ideal musicians and ideal teachers. With regard to ideal musicians, concepts
of innate talent and creativity seemed to persist. This dominant discourse relating to ideal
musicians does not thus appear to have significantly altered since Robert Schumann
positioned the ideal musician as a performer with music in his fingers, head and heart
(Schumann, 1849, cited in Lowinsky, 1964). However, a broader discourse, privileging
the role of personality and the value of musical versatility was also evident. Furthermore,
an alternative discourse of rational, acquired expertise was apparent, echoing the mastery/
mystery discourses identified by Wilson and MacDonald (2005).
The responses indicated that musicians conceptualised the identity of ideal teachers
as a complex construct, comprising four skill areas: personal skills, teaching skills, social
skills and musicianship skills. Most references were made to teaching skills, followed
by musicianship skills, which lend support to Davidson et al. (1998) who suggested that
teachers’ professional qualities become more relevant for advanced learners.
Some synergy was evident between the concepts of ideal musicians and ideal teachers
articulated by the IMP participants. For example, ideal musicians as well as teachers
were thought to be those who were excellent communicators who demonstrated integrity,
perseverance and a commitment to excellence. They also possessed high levels of musical
expertise as well as a deep knowledge of the wider musical community. Interpersonal as
well as musical attributes were emphasised in the concepts of ideal teachers, who were
enthusiastic, flexible, empathic and inspirational. In short, ideal teachers embodied the
salient attributes of concepts of ‘ideal musicians’.
The key message for higher education music institutions is that ideal teachers are
those who, supported with professional development opportunities, develop the capacity
to recognize students’ concepts of ideal musicians, support students in developing deep
understandings of the characteristics of ideal musicians, and are equipped with the skills
for bringing these ideals into the realm of possible selves. There was some evidence that the
students as well as the professional musicians perceived the role of the teacher to involve
guiding students towards achieving their possible musical selves, for example ‘getting them
into stuff that maybe they want to do’. Participants thought that ideal teachers ‘imagine
what it’s like inside their head’, ‘get you interested in music’, ‘have faith’ in their students
and treat their students ‘as professional’.
112 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
As Van Gennip and Vrieze (2008) propose, effective teachers draw upon interpersonal
and intrapersonal skills, subject expertise and pedagogical strategies. Each of these areas,
we would argue, can be utilized by teachers in higher education music contexts in such a way
as to facilitate learning, providing students with authentic, inner experience of their ‘ideal
musician’. Interpersonal and intrapersonal skills may be modelled and employed in such
a way as to support student self-efficacy beliefs. For example, the discourse of ‘absolute
expertise’ can be challenged with an alternative discourse that privileges the possibility of
incremental progression and acquisition of attributes that characterise the musical ideal self.
Pedagogical strategies such as scaffolding, providing specific feedback and differentiating
for individual student needs may support students in building a store of concrete, inner
experience of something that resembles their musical ideals. A holistic approach, involving
collaboration and responsiveness to student ideals may support students in developing
authentic, autonomous musical possible selves.
References
Arnon, S. and Reichel, N. (2007). Who is the ideal teacher? Am I? Teachers and Teaching:
Theory and Practice, 13(5), 441–64.
Bennett, D. (2007). Utopia for music performance graduates. Is it achievable, and how
should it be defined? British Journal of Music Education, 24(2), 179–89.
Boyle, J. D. (1992). Evaluation of musical ability. In R. Colwell (Ed.), Handbook of research
in music teaching and learning (pp. 247–65). New York: Oxford University Press.
Chi, M. (2006). Two approaches to the study of experts’ characteristics. In K. A. Ericsson,
N. Charness, P. J. Feltovich & R. R. Hoffman (Eds), The Cambridge handbook of
expertise and expert performance (pp. 21–30). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Creech, A. (2009). Teacher-parent-pupil trios: A typology of interpersonal interaction in the
context of learning a musical instrument. Musicae Scientiae, 13(2), 163–82.
Davidson, J. W., Howe, M. J. A. and Sloboda, J. A. (1997). Environmental factors in the
development of musical performance skill over the lifespan. In D. J. Hargreaves and
A. C. North (Eds), The social psychology of music (pp. 188–208). Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Erikson, M. G. (2007). The meaning of the future: Toward a more specific definition of
possible selves. Review of General Psychology, 11(4), 348.
Fano, G., & Gregory, J. (1917). The creators of modern musical idealities. The Musical
Quarterly, 3(3), 319–39.
Frederickson, J., & Rooney, J. (1988). The freelance musician as a type of non-person: An
extension of the concept of non-personhood. The Sociological Quarterly, 29(2), 221–39.
Holtz, P. (2009). What’s your music? Subjective theories of music-creating artists. Musicae
Scientiae, 13(2), 207–30.
Hallam, S. (2010). 21st century conceptions of musical ability. Psychology of
Music, 38(3), 308-330.
Hargreaves, D. (1996). The development of artistic and musical competence. In I. Deliege
& J. Sloboda (Eds), Musical beginnings (pp. 145–70). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Howe, M. J. A. and Sloboda, J. A. (1991). Young musicians’ accounts of significant
influences in their early lives: 1: The family and the musical background. British
Journal of Music Education, 8, 39–52.
Concepts of Ideal Musicians and Teachers 113
Howe, M., Davidson, J. & Sloboda, J. (1998). Innate talents: Reality or myth? Behavioural
and Brain Sciences, 21(3), 399–406.
Ibarra, H. (1999). Provisional selves: Experimenting with image and identity in professional
adaptation. Administrative Science Quarterly, 44(4), 764.
Ivaldi, A., & O’Neil, S. (2008). Adolescents’ musical role models: Whom do they admire
and why? Psychology of Music, 36(4), 395–416.
King, L. A. & Hicks, J. A. (2007). Whatever happened to ‘what might have been’? Regrets,
happiness, and maturity. American Psychologist, 62(7), 625.
Lehmann, A. C. & Gruber, H. (2006). Music. In K. A. Ericsson, N. Charness, P. Feltovich
& R. Hoffman (Eds), The Cambridge handbook of expertise and expert performance
(pp. 457–70). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Lehmann, A. C., Sloboda, J. A., & Woody, R. H. (2007). Psychology for musicians:
Understanding and acquiring the skills. New York: Oxford University Press.
Lowinsky, E. E. (1964). Musical genius – evolution and origins of a concept. The Musical
Quarterly, 50(3), 321–40.
MacDonald, C. (2002). Schumann’s piano practice: Technical mastery and artistic ideal.
Journal of Musicology, 19(4), 527–63.
Manturzewska, M. (1990). A biographical study of the life-span development of professional
musicians. Psychology of Music, 18(2), 112–39.
Markus, H., & Ruvolo, A. (1989). Possible selves: Personalized representations of goals. In
L. A. Pervin (Ed.), Goal concepts in personality and social psychology (pp. 211–41).
Hillsdale, New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Pembrook, R. and Craig, C. (2002). Teaching as a profession: Two variations on a theme.
In R. Colwell and C. Richardson (Eds), The New Handbook of Research on Music
Teaching and Learning (pp. 786–817). New York: Oxford University Press.
Rossiter, M. (2007). Possible selves: An adult education perspective. New Directions for
Adult & Continuing Education (114), 5.
Sigel, A. (1966). The search for expressiveness in instrumental performance. Music
Educators Journal, 53(2), 65–8.
Sloboda, J. A., Davidson, J. W., Howe, M. J. A. and Moore, D. G. (1996). The role of practice in
the development of performing musicians. British Journal of Psychology, 87, 287–309.
Sosniak, L. A. (1990). The tortoise and the hare and the development of talent. In
M. J. A. Howe (Ed.), Encouraging the development of exceptional skills and talents
(pp. 149–64). Leicester: British Psychological Society.
Søreide, G. E. (2006). Narrative construction of teacher identity: Positioning and
negotiation. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 12(5), 527–47.
Swanwick, K., & Tillman, J. (1986). The sequence of musical development: A study of
children’s composition. British Journal of Music Education, 3, 305–39.
Van Gennip, H. and Vrieze, G. (2008). Wat is de ideale leraar? Studie naar vakkennis,
interventie en persoon. ITS: Radbout Universiteit Nijmegen.
Westby, D. (1960). The career experience of the symphony musician. Social
Forces, 38(3), 223–30.
Wilson, G., & MacDonald, R. (2005). The meaning of the blues: Musical identities in talk
about jazz. Qualitative Research in Psychology, 2(4), 341–63.
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 8
Music, Motivation and competence
Acquisition across genres
Introduction
this chapter examines issues of motivation and competence acquisition in music learning
in higher education by contextualising quantitative and qualitative data gathered as part of
the investigating Musical Performance (iMP) project (Welch, et al., 2006–2008; creech
et al., 2008). drawing upon research from psychology, ethnomusicology and music
education, it explores differences between the sample of Western classical musicians, on
the one hand, and popular, jazz and scottish traditional (other-than-classical) musicians, on
the other. three interrelated factors will be considered: musicians’ motivations for and on-
going experiences of learning/making music; the divergent learning practices they employ;
and the distinct types of musical competence that result. In addition to reflecting on these
three elements and the reciprocal relationships between them (see figure 8.1), thought will
be given to some of the implications of this research for those involved in designing and
delivering higher education music programmes.
One intriguing result of the IMP study is the finding that the popular, jazz and Scottish
traditional musicians reported experiencing more pleasure overall in engaging in musical
activities than did their classical counterparts (t(157) = -2.01, p=.046). More specifically,
those in the former group rated the following activities as more pleasurable than did their
classical-music-playing peers: practice with others (t(185) = -2.71, p = .007), listening to
music from their own genre (t(185) = -3.28, p = .001), acquiring general musical knowledge
(t(182) = -2.1, p = .037), and networking (t(180) = -3.08, p = .002). What is more, the other-
than-classical cohort rated playing for fun alone (t(182) = -3.03, p = .003) and with others
(t(181) = -3.48, p = .001) as of higher relevance to their musical development, and claimed
to spend significantly more hours per week engaged in such activity: playing for fun alone
(other-than-classical, M = 6.08 hrs/week; classical, M = 1.97 hrs/week); playing for fun with
others (other-than-classical, M = 3.79 hrs/week; classical, M = 1.35 hrs/week). In contrast,
the classical musicians tended to attach more importance to activities associated with solo
professional work, such as giving lessons and solo performances (Creech et al., 2008).
This is not the first study to highlight a disparity between the experiences and
motivations of music learners studying Western art music and those involved in other
genres. In her study ‘How Popular Musicians Learn’, Green (2001) contrasts the enjoyment
described by her informants in their accounts of learning popular music with the alienation
that many experienced when receiving classical music tuition. Likewise, a survey of 2,465
British 13–14-year-olds found that the perceived benefits of playing and listening to pop
music included ‘enjoyment’ and ‘relieving tension and stress’, whereas involvement in
classical music was more commonly motivated by a desire to ‘please parents and teachers’
(Hargreaves & North, 2001, p. 231). Elsewhere, Hallam (2006, p. 149) summarises research
supporting a common belief amongst many educators that younger students require
encouragement to practice because doing so for love of the instrument is rare. That many
popular, folk and jazz musicians might enjoy practising may have escaped the attention of
researchers because popular and folk musics have been neglected in psychological study
(Sloboda & Davidson, 1996).
The reasons why individuals are motivated to make music are complex. Human beings
are motivated – moved to do something, or to avoid doing something – for multiple and
sometimes conflicting reasons. Motivation operates hierarchically in the sense that goals
may be more or less specific to a given situation, context or developmental phase, as
well as more or less urgent, demanding action in the short, mid- or long term relative
to an individual’s lifespan. Motivation also differs in its quality, in terms of whether the
perceived locus of causality lies within or outside of an individual. Intrinsic motivation
commonly refers to motivation which originates within an individual: that is the motivation
to do something because it is inherently interesting or enjoyable (Ryan & Deci, 2000).
With reference to the data presented above, the popular, jazz and folk musicians in the
IMP study can be considered to demonstrate high levels of intrinsic motivation in relation
to certain learning practices – to play for fun alone and with others – in that they perceive
these activities to be inherently pleasurable. Extrinsic motivation, on the other hand, refers
to externally regulated behaviours performed to attain some separable outcome (ibid.).
Music, Motivation and Competence Acquisition across Genres 117
Another discrepancy between the classical and other-than-classical musicians in the IMP
study relates to the degree to which each group claimed to have been motivated by extrinsic
factors in the form of family members and educators as children. The data show that while
parents, teachers and formal groups played a key role in the earliest musical development
of the classical contingent, the other-than-classical group were less likely to have been as
influenced by parents and teachers (Creech et al., 2008).
More generally, research into instrumental playing has emphasised the importance of
family members during the initial stages of the learning process. In her study of musical
participation, Pitts (2005, p. 123) cites informants who ‘spoke of it having been “natural”
for them to learn a musical instrument because siblings were already doing so, or because
parents expected and encouraged it’. Similarly, Sloboda and Davidson (1996, p. 180)
conclude, ‘parental involvement is critical as to whether the child persists or gives up
musical activity’. While not denying the role that family plays in a child’s development,
the IMP results suggest that popular, jazz and folk musicians were more autonomous
in their choices: they were more likely to be motivated by personal desire, well-known
performers and informal groups with friends (Creech et al., 2008). This supports Green’s
(2001, p. 26) depiction of popular music learners as self-motivated, with many saving up
or begging for their own instrument. Popular music and jazz students at Leeds College of
Music described parents who, for the most part, gave them the freedom to develop their
own musical interests:
[My parents] weren’t musical … They were happy for me to go and try out a lot of
different things. They didn’t particularly want me to be a classical musician or a pop
musician; they just said ‘go and do what you want and have fun doing it’. (second year
popular music student)
118 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
My parents weren’t pushy like some can be. Like a friend of mine, his parents were pushy
and now it’s put him off music. He’d probably still be doing it otherwise. (third year
jazz student)
One explanation for this difference is that the classical students reported commencing
formal learning on their first study instrument at an earlier age than the other musicians
studied (classical, M = 8.8 years; other-than-classical, M = 12 years, Creech et al., 2008).
From a developmental perspective, it makes sense that a younger child is more dependent
upon parental support and guidance from others in authority. Ryan and Deci (2000) observe
that, following the relative autonomy and freedom to play during the first few years of life,
the demands of socialisation mean that intrinsically motivated behaviour is increasingly
curtailed after early childhood. Formal education provides children with new opportunities
for growth but, at the same time, demands greater compliance. Conversely, another shift
in psychological goals during the teenage years means that, differing socio-cultural
constrictions and personality traits notwithstanding, there is then a tendency for individuals
to question externally imposed regulations, expectations and values,while experimenting
with different roles (Coren, 1997). This obviously has implications for music learning,
particularly during the transition from primary to secondary education, a time when many
young people give up playing a musical instrument altogether. As Creech (2001) found in
her study of the parents of violinists, many caregivers begin to feel less effective as sources
of external motivation and support as their child matures past the age of eleven. Notably,
this is around the age at which the other-than-classical musicians in the IMP study started to
play their main instrument. Viewed from a more holistic perspective, it might be considered
as developmentally appropriate for adolescents to seek a greater degree of autonomy, as
well as new identifications outside of the family sphere by turning away from the music
associated with authority figures towards that enjoyed by themselves and their peers. Self-
determination theory asserts that intrinsically motivated learning will only occur when
individuals can identify with the values and goals of a specific context and these values and
goals are congruent with their underlying needs (Boekaerts & Minnaert, 1999).
musicians may not need to be as proficient at sight-reading. However, such disparities may
also point towards the genre-specific nature of systems of music learning as manifest in
pedagogic categories. It could be that the popular, jazz and folk musicians in the study
were not accustomed to thinking of technical proficiency, quality of tone and musicality/
expressive skills as separate domains of competence because they have never learned
music in this fragmented way. Studies of music learning in other cultures reveal that these
classifications are not ubiquitous.
Despite the number of different genres now taught in schools, conservatoires and
universities, music education in the West largely continues to be defined by practices derived
from Western classical music pedagogy (see Green, 2001). One of the main reasons for this
is that, for many years, formalised music education was predominantly concerned with
the study of Western art music. Indeed, Western classical music and the music education
system can be considered to have shared a partially co-dependent evolution: consider the
amount of repertoire specifically composed for public examinations and conservatoire
entrance auditions.
The compartmentalisation of music learning into discrete domains of competence is
further indicative of broader shifts in society. Small (1996) contextualises Western classical
music and music pedagogy within the rationalist worldview of post-Renaissance European
society, with its emphasis on analysis and logical, linear progression. The rise of mass
education and professionalisation of teaching and learning in Europe and North America
also coincided with the advent of industrialisation (Abbott & Ryan, 2001). As methods
of mass production and processes of mechanisation began to dominate working life, so
attributes such as rapidity, repeatability and predictability came to be seen as the ‘hallmarks
of human intelligence’ (Reed 1996, p. 80). One far-reaching effect of industrialisation was
the dividing of labour between individuals who plan and evaluate activity, and those who
carry out such plans. Equivalent processes may be observed in Western classical music in
the separation of the roles of the composer, responsible for devising (and owning) a piece
of music, and the performer, responsible for its practical execution (de Bézenac, 2007). As
with industrial commodities, classical compositions came to be required to be accurately
and repeatedly reproduced regardless of the musicians or performance contexts involved.
Classical performers became increasingly interchangeable with their training requiring a
degree of external regulation and standardisation to ensure conformity of practice.
Returning more directly to the issue of motivation, another outcome of industrialisation
was the dichotomisation of work and play. Work, which has come to be seen to require
extrinsic motivation, demands disciplined application, while play, is considered to be
intrinsically enjoyable and often presented as a reward for more arduous endeavour. The
use of playtime and holiday as incentives and forms of compensation reinforces the idea
that ‘work is hard, if not actually unpleasant’ (Youell 2006, p. 34). Consequently music
educators have sometimes found themselves in the position of having to emphasise music
as work, whilst downplaying more playful elements in order to justify the subject as being
worthy of serious study. Pitts (2005, p. 120) cites an inspector criticising a school music
department for ‘an over-emphasis on fun’. Small (1996) considers such an attitude to be a
manifestation of the protestant work ethic, with its implicit decree of work (suffer) now, so
that one can enjoy the rewards later. Rather than running the risk of an over-emphasis on
fun, he suggests that the ‘mind-destroying drill’ (p. 83) of technical exercises in Western
120 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
classical music training curtails enjoyment in music-making at all stages of learning. What
is evident is that an increased degree of prescription in formalised education leaves less
scope for autonomous decisions and actions on the part of the learner. According to Ryan
and Deci’s theory (2000), this disregard for individual abilities, sensibilities and interests
reduces the likelihood that basic psychological needs will be met and, therefore, that
intrinsically motivated and self-determined behaviour will occur.
The fact that the jazz, popular and Scottish traditional folk musicians do not consider
teachers as important is explained by research looking at non-formal approaches to music
learning. Studies of competence acquisition outside of academic settings reveal that teaching
often occupies an ambiguous and peripheral position. Brinner (1995, p. 121) outlines the
varying models of interaction that typify teacher-student relationships in a range of cultures
and explains that not all teaching involves ‘the explicit commentary that characterises most
Western teaching methods’. Rather than spoon-feeding or enthusing students, he describes
teachers in some traditions deliberately withholding information by refusing ‘to play an
example more than a few times because of a philosophical stance towards reception’ (ibid.).
In many musical cultures the onus is on the learner to be sufficiently self-motivated to first
teach themselves, proving they are capable of absorbing new material from experienced
players. There are also many musicians who acquire skills and knowledge with little in the
way of didactic instruction at all. Green (2001, p. 5) concedes, ‘music education has had
relatively little to do with the development of the majority of those musicians who have
produced the vast proportion of the music which the global population listens to, dances
to, identifies with and enjoys’.
Studies of music learning outside of formal programmes (see, for example, Berliner, 1994;
Brinner, 1995; Green, 2001) highlight a variety of holistic student-led practices. Jazz, folk and
popular musicians traditionally learn their craft by listening to and memorising/transcribing
recordings, going to gigs, starting a band, making friends and playing with more experienced
musicians and gaining access to a specific musical community. Anecdotal accounts suggest
that most of these activities require little in the way of external encouragement and are,
instead, intrinsically rewarding for the individuals involved. As Green (2001, p. 87) writes
of the popular musicians in her study, ‘Practice was something they did so long as they
enjoyed it – if they were not enjoying it, they did not do it’. Naturally classical musicians
too may be intrinsically motivated to seek out musical activities they enjoy. Sloboda and
Davidson’s (1996, p. 183) research reveals that some degree of self-motivation is essential
at more advanced stages of learning, with high achievers being likely to engage in informal
practice (‘playing favourite tunes from a score’, ‘improvising’, and ‘non-specific “fun”
playing’). However, while music educators might dismiss these pursuits as extra-curricular
play, such activities often lie at the heart of music learning in many parts of the world. For
musicians in many genres, musical play is the work, with certain practices not even deemed
to constitute something as effortful as that which has come to be perceived as learning at all.
Most people acquire their initial knowledge of popular/folk music idioms and repertoire
through processes of enculturation. Individuals automatically memorise melodies and songs
by osmosis as they are repeatedly exposed to them at home and in the wider community.
For musicians in aural/oral traditions, such as pop, jazz and traditional folk genres,
listening continues to function as a central learning practice at more advanced stages of
musical development. The IMP study found that, in comparison to the classical cohort,
the popular, jazz and Scottish traditional musicians reported spending significantly more
hours per week listening to the music that they study (other-than-classical, M = 13.38 hrs/
week; classical, M = 2.78 hrs/week). At the same time, the study also found that both
the classical and other-than-classical musicians reported spending several hours per week
listening to music outside of the genre in which they are specialising (other-than-classical,
M = 7.72 hours per week; classical, M = 6.98 hours per week). What is interesting here is
122 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
that the two sample groups expressed different attitudes towards music listening, with the
other-than-classical not only experiencing significantly more pleasure when listening to
music from their own genres as previously stated, but also rating listening to music from
other genres as of higher relevance to their musical development (t(185) = -3.81, p < .001).
Such findings are further indication that listening has not been prioritised as a means of
acquiring competence in instrumental playing within the notation-bound field of Western
classical music as it has in the more predominantly oral/aural traditions of popular, jazz and
folk music. They further bring to mind Sloboda and Davidson’s (1996, p. 186) comments
about young musicians (presumably classical) they interviewed who seemed ‘so focused on
achievement, competition, and being the “best” that they almost look down on listening to
music for pleasure as “a waste of time”’.
While the notion of learning by osmosis may suggest that knowledge and skills are
acquired in a relatively passive way, the autodidactic process that many popular, jazz and folk
musicians describe involves more focused listening. This way of working is demanding and
may not be immediately pleasurable, but can ultimately remain self-directed/intrinsically
motivated as long as learners remain autonomous in their choices – for example, in their
selection of repertoire. Green (2001, pp. 23–4) employs the term ‘purposive listening’ to
describe the highly concentrated type of listening that has the aim of ‘learning something
in order to put it to use in some way after the listening experience is over’. For musicians
operating outside of the Western classical tradition, recordings often constitute an aural
score, a source from which material may be studied and eventually reproduced. It is not
surprising, therefore, that the other-than-classical musicians in the IMP study generally
rated the ability to memorise repertoire as more important than their classical counterparts.
By contrast, the classical players arguably put more emphasis on visual learning: they
considered notation-based skills to be more relevant (Creech et al., 2008).
The self-directed learning practices of jazz, popular and folk musicians also include
more social activities. As already stated, while the classical musicians in the IMP study
prioritised solo work, the other-than-classical musicians in the IMP study were more likely
to have been influenced by informal groups with friends, and rated playing for fun with
others as more relevant to their development as performers. Group learning – including
observing and imitating other musicians in rehearsal and performance – is central to
competence acquisition in jazz, popular and folk music genres, with the enjoyment and
inspiration that comes from interacting with peers constituting a key motivating factor.
Students at Leeds College of Music commented:
I started playing in bands at school and doing little gigs. I made lots of friends doing that,
whereas the piano, it was always by myself. I would sit down and practice for hours alone.
With my bass I could play with others and that was always more fun. (second year popular
music student)
A lot of people on the course would say that the best way to learn is by having fun and
learning in a group situation. (second year popular music student)
Despite such positive comments, integrating autonomous and collective learning practices
into higher education music courses where the individual student is positioned as the primary
locus for learning is not without its challenges (Borgo, 2007). Within formal settings there
is a need to structure and assess learning in a way that is not easily compatible with the more
intuitive, holistic and cooperative nature of autodidactic and communal methods. And this
Music, Motivation and Competence Acquisition across Genres 123
has implications beyond the issue of motivation. The remainder of this chapter will consider
the interdependency between processes of learning and the musical outcomes that result.
[As a pop musician] I don’t think that you need to go as deep as someone in jazz would
technique wise. That’s why I play a range of instruments … When I filled out your
questionnaire and was asked ‘what is your main instrument?’, I didn’t know what to say:
I did guitar for my BTEC, I did drums for my GCSE and now I’m doing piano for the
BA. (second year popular music student)
124 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Even popular musicians may revert to familiar classical models when employed as teachers.
With reference to the formal learning experiences of her own informants, Green (2001,
p. 152) comments, ‘as with classical tuition, their memories of popular music lessons
centred around acquiring technique, partly through exercises such as scales and learning
to read notation’. The situation may be self-perpetuating in that, as with other forms of
enculturation, individuals are more likely to base their own teaching behaviours on the way
they were taught, rather than in accordance with how they actually learnt.
This is not the whole story, however. The fact also remains that there persists an
ethnocentric misapprehension in certain sectors of the education system that the Western art
music tradition encompasses the ‘basic and universal elements of all music’ (Small, 1996,
p. 8). Debating at the UK government-sponsored Music Manifesto State of Play conference
on the future of music education, cellist Julian Lloyd Weber is reported as arguing for
classical music to be the basis of all music education because it is the ‘root of all styles’ and
the ‘grammar of music’: ‘a child taught the basics of classical music can succeed in any
style’ (Asthana, 2006). Inherent in this assumption is the notion of music as a homogenous,
abstract and essentially unchanging entity that is capable of being learnt, taught and
assessed by homogenous means. In other words, there is one music but many styles. This
line of reasoning lends credence to the idea that a classically-trained musician is capable
of teaching all other musics and inevitably leads to the conclusion that these other music
systems are in some way less sophisticated – inferior. Left in the hands of non-specialists
this is arguably what they are likely to become.
Accounts from ethnomusicology, popular music studies and music education challenge
the classical-music-as-omniscient view and, moreover, suggest that the utilisation of
standardised teaching and learning practices may have a detrimental impact on music genres
themselves. Research looking at formalised jazz education is pertinent to this discussion.
Barratt and Moore (2005) identify a schism between institutionalised jazz learning and real-
world jazz performance. Commenting on the emphasis placed on solo rather than ensemble
skills in higher education jazz programmes, they conclude, ‘there seems a danger that the
most essential aspects of jazz may be distorted when they are transplanted to conservatoire
settings’ (p. 305). Nicholson (2005) similarly critiques mainstream jazz pedagogy in the
US, arguing that the bebop-hard bop style taught in high schools, colleges, and universities
has been singled out because it is compatible with formal education methods. This form of
jazz has been adopted because, like Western classical music idioms, it is readily teachable –
‘explainable, analyzable, catergorizable and do-able’. One of the unfortunate consequences
of this approach is that by the 1990s, ‘a lot of jazz on CD and at clubs and festivals played
by younger musicians was sounding as if it was “explainable, analyzable, catergorizable
and do-able”’ (p. 101).
As the IMP data reveal, the situation is complicated because many popular, jazz and folk
musicians enrolled in formal education programmes continue to pursue their own musical
interests in a more autonomous fashion outside of the constraints of scheduled timetables.
Moreover, educational establishments may, albeit inadvertently, play a key role in facilitating
this extra-curricular activity. Focus group discussions with popular and jazz musicians at
Leeds College of Music suggest that one of the most useful functions of the institution, as
they see it, is that it brings groups of likeminded peers together. These students spoke of
the importance of networking at the College as a means to forming their own bands and
Music, Motivation and Competence Acquisition across Genres 125
gaining performance opportunities. At the same time, musicians remained positive about
those aspects of their formal courses that they deemed to be relevant to their development
as working players. Several individuals remarked on the benefit of having teachers who are
practicing musicians. As with more experienced peers, such figures serve as role models not
only in terms of their musical expertise, but also because of their links to professional scenes.
You’re seeing one of your teachers play which is great. You realise that they’re not just
academics; they’re actually really hip. Then you’re seeing one of your friends playing
with them and really upping their game because they’re playing with someone who is a
considerable way on in their musical journey. (third year jazz student)
That’s another thing that I think is good with the College: my teacher is a gigging musician.
So I agree with him or not, at least I know that what he does has relevance; he’s still
working. (third year jazz student)
Students also talked about the importance of being able to access practice rooms and studio
facilities for their own groups, as well as of having time to cultivate their independent musical
interests. It seems that many of their most valued learning experiences occur in the gaps
between scheduled activities: in informal conversations in the corridors or bar, in recordings
passed from peer-to-peer and impromptu demonstrations in rehearsals. One jazz student
described the institution as ‘almost accidentally’ fostering an enthusiasm for learning:
While the college and course content isn’t directly responsible for everything that I learned,
it fostered the atmosphere … I’ve learned more from things I’ve done off my own back
and got together with other musicians who were like-minded, within the College, using
their practice rooms, but not overseen by anyone but ourselves. (third year jazz student)
The IMP findings discussed here prompt questions about the design and purpose of higher
education music programmes. While many music students aspire to pursue a music-related
if not performance career (see Burt & Mills, 2006), the reality is that this is usually only
possible for a talented and tenacious minority. Green (2001, p.213) argues that this raises
ethical considerations for those running courses ‘geared to vocationalism’. Perhaps this is
of greater concern if students are focused on unrealistic future career goals at the expense
of their enjoyment in current musical activities. Some might suggest that it is the intrinsic
rewards afforded by the subject which legitimise music as being worthy of advanced study.
With the experience of students in mind, how might courses be structured to enhance
rather than diminish such rewards? Self-determination theory suggests that one solution may
be to devise programmes that cultivate more autonomous, self-directed and collaborative
peer-to-peer learning. Feedback indicates that the popular, jazz and folk musicians in the
IMP study appreciated having space in the curriculum (and building) to set up and rehearse
their own groups, listening to and playing repertoire of their own choice. Teachers may
help to facilitate this activity by acting as practitioner-role-models as well as pedagogues/
mentors – this might include, for instance, including students in their own practice sessions
and performances where possible. It also needs to be acknowledged, however, that any
126 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
References
Abbott, J. & Ryan, T. (2001). The unfinished revolution. Alexandria, Virginia: Association
for Supervision and Curriculum Development.
Asthana, A. (2006). Out with classroom rap, in with Mozart. The Observer, 31
December 2006. Retrieved 9 March 2008 from http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2006/
dec/31/musicnews.schools.
Barab, S., Cherkes-Julkowski, M., Swenson, R., Garrett, S., Shaw R. & Young, M. (1999).
Principles of self-organization: Learning as participation in Autocatakinetic systems.
The Journal of Learning Sciences, 8(3–4), 349–90.
Barratt, E. & Moore, H. (2005). Researching group assessment: Jazz in the conservatoire.
British Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 299–314.
Berliner, P. (1994). Thinking in jazz: The infinite art of improvisation. Chicago & London:
University of Chicago Press.
de Bézenac, C. (2007). Improvising ambiguity: An ecological approach to music-making.
(Unpublished doctoral thesis), University of Leeds.
Music, Motivation and Competence Acquisition across Genres 127
Blacking, J. (1976). How musical is man?. Seattle & London: Faber and Faber.
Boekaerts, M. & Minnaert, A, (1999). Self-regulation with respect to informal learning.
International Journal of Educational Research, 31, 533–44.
Borgo, D. (2007). Free jazz in the classroom: An ecological approach to music education.
Jazz Perspectives, 1(1), 61–88.
Bowman, W. (2004). Cognition and the body: Perspectives from music education. In
L. Bresler (Ed.), Knowing bodies, moving minds: Towards embodied teaching and
learning (pp. 29–50). Norwell, MA: Kluwer Academic Publishers.
Brinner, B. (1995). Knowing music, making music: Javanese gamelan and the theory of
musical competence and interaction. Chicago & London: University of Chicago Press.
Burt, R. & Mills, J. (2006). Taking the plunge: The hopes and fears of students as they begin
music college. British Journal of Music Education, 23(1), 51–73.
Coren, A. (1997). A psychodynamic approach to education. London: Sheldon Press.
Creech, A. (2001). Play for me: An exploration of motivations, issues and outcomes related
to parental involvement in their children’s violin study. (Unpublished MA dissertation),
University of Sheffield.
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Morton, F., Haddon, E., Potter, J., de Bezenac, C.,
Whyton, T., Himonides, E. & Welch, G. (2008). Investigating musical performance:
Commonality and diversity among classical and non-classical musicians. Music
Education Research, 10(2), 215–234.
Davidson, J. (2004). What can the social psychology of music offer community music
therapy?. In M. Pavlicevic and G. Ansdell (Eds.), Community music therapy. London:
Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Green, L. (2001). How popular musicians learn: A way ahead for music education.
Aldershot: Ashgate.
Hallam, S. (2006). Music psychology in education. London: Institute of Education.
Hargreaves, D. & North, A. (2001). Musical development and learning: The international
perspective. London & New York: Continuum.
Illich, I. (1976). Deschooling society. Harmondsworth: Pelican Books.
Nicholson, S. (2005). Is jazz dead?: Or has it moved to a new address. London & New
York: Routledge.
Pitts, S. (2005). Valuing musical participation. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Reed, E. (1996). The necessity of experience. New Haven & London: Yale University Press.
Ryan, R. & Deci, E. (2000). Self-determination theory and the facilitation of intrinsic
motivation, social development and well-being. American Psychologist, 55(1), 68–78.
Sloboda, J. & Davidson, J. (1996). The young performing musician. In I. Deliege and
J. Sloboda (Eds.), Musical beginnings: Origins and development of musical competence.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Small, C. (1996). Music, society, education. London: University Press of New England.
Swindells, R. (2004). Klasik, kawih, kreasi: Musical transformation and the gamelan degung
of Bandung, West Java, Indonesia. Unpublished doctoral thesis, City University, London.
Welch, G., Duffy, C., Potter, J. & Whyton, T. (2006). Investigating musical performance
(IMP): Comparative studies in advanced musical learning (2006–2008). Teaching and
Learning Research Programme website, retrieved 9 March, 2008 from http://www.tlrp.
org/proj/Welch.html.
Youell, B. (2006). The learning relationship: Psychoanalytic thinking in education.
London: Karnac Books.
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 9
creativity and the institutional Mindset
Introduction
course descriptors for higher education music degrees in the uK make considerable use
of the words ‘creative’ and ‘creativity’. However, do benchmark statements referring to
a ‘creative approach’ or studying in a ‘creative manner’ actually relate to true creative
engagement, or are they merely a marketing ploy to soften an emphasis on studying
music through ‘critical engagement’? Music itself appears to be an inherently creative
art, concerned with composition and performance: activities directly connected with
making and manipulating sound. Yet schafer described creativity as ‘perhaps the most
neglected subject in Western musical education’ (1976, p. ix). Performance, particularly
if it involves the realisation of an existing score, can be controlled by strict parameters,
not only those defined by the notation of the musical text, but also those surrounding the
text and relating to issues of performance practice, acceptable norms of taste and style and
institutional assessment. in fact, this kind of performance is often less about creation than
about conforming. Paradoxically, music, so often used as a tool to unlock other kinds of
creativity, is at risk of being largely re-creative, bound by constraints of scholarship and
legacies of institutional tradition.
the authority of teachers, often supported by historical lineage of past teachers
descended from a specific performer or composer, appears to provide compelling grounds
for continuing existing practice and protecting and preserving the received models of
performance. these practices may be strengthened through the constraints of a syllabus,
and through assessment, which focuses on the measurable and comparable, preferring
‘stable’ submissions to those involving risk-taking and innovation. therefore, true
creativity would seem to be incompatible with the stated aims of many institutions. if, as
Piaget wrote, ‘the primary goal of education is to educate men who are capable of doing
new things, not simply of repeating what other generations have done – men who are
creative, inventive and discoverers’ (Piaget, 1964, p. 90) then where can this occur in a
course in which teachers and students are constantly accountable for attainment and bound
by tradition?
While many conservatoires have recently been endeavouring to update their institutional
image, university music departments appear to have made fewer public claims committing
to their development, perhaps assuming that their relatively recent foundation makes them
more up-to-date by default. Although university departments may view themselves as
progressive, the fact remains that they are nevertheless institutions which bear implicit
connotations of tradition, established values, organised behaviours and behavioural
systems, and structures of management defined by a top-down hierarchy, ‘locked into
bureaucratic, mechanistic procedures resulting from the demands of the quality assurance
industry’ (renshaw, 2000). internal management has often been undertaken by those in
130 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
charge of the educative content of such establishments, leading to the likelihood of either
the attempted realisation of one founding professor’s vision or to the negotiated concepts
of a team of advisors and those in higher management positions who may have directly
conflicting and competing agendas. Neither approach is truly egalitarian or tailored to the
individual needs, interests and desires of those who enter the institution. Are the institutional
aims, goals and approaches continually re-examined and developed for relevance to today’s
students, or are outdated principles and practices, accepted without question, subverting
the often-stated missions to develop graduates who will have the skills to exist in the real
world? Could a new model be devised which embraces the creative aspirations and ideals
of students and which is organically derived from these, rather than from assumed needs
and imposed targets?
Creativity
Early theories of creativity suggest that the creative process involves four stages: preparation,
incubation, illumination and verification (Wallas, 1926). Subsequent research emphasised
the value of divergent thinking, where there may be no defined answer or fixed route
(Guilford, 1967; de Bono, 1985). If creativity may arise through Keats’ theory of negative
capability, in which the juxtaposition of opposites, and the ‘ability to stand in the mystery
and accept doubt without reaching after fact or reason’ (Campion, 2009) allow exploration,
then educators need to be encouraged to develop a culture of risk taking, receptivity and
experimentation without prescribed targets or penalties. This chapter examines some ideas
of creative practice in the context of higher education and considers aspects of the interplay
between the elements of tradition and experimentation, rules and freedom, and the ultimate
goals of education.
The idea that performance (or indeed education) can be measured according to a list
of agreed criteria would have seemed bizarre to anyone before the twentieth century. The
most important criteria for judging success were taste and effectiveness, both of which
would have been self-evident to anyone needing to know. The criteria that defined taste
were mysterious, and for those outside the small aristocratic coterie that determined such
things, ultimately unknowable. A particularly original or impressive performance might
exceed the boundaries of good taste and yet still be admirable, or even contribute to the
elusive evolution of taste itself. The master-apprentice system that pertained throughout
Europe until the end of the eighteenth century produced strongly characterised individual
performance personae, based on a small set of common pedagogical principles which
would enable any successful student to perform any given piece of music. With the
advent of institutional pedagogy from the 1796 Paris Conservatoire onwards, the
individualist model began to be replaced by an institutional regime that sought to
objectify the learning process and introduce common standards to which every student
should aspire. During the nineteenth century the conservatoire formula of class and
individual teaching introduced an element of competitiveness that had previously only
applied when the student finished his or her education and entered the real world of
performance. The aim of the teaching was to ‘conserve’ current traditions (responding
to a perceived threat from lowered ‘standards’), and a century and a half later the brand
new university music departments in post-World War II Britain took on much of the
conservatoire ideology without questioning its relevance to the educational needs of late
twentieth-century students.
Creativity and the Institutional Mindset 131
also promote compliance. This may have been useful for musicians engaged in orchestral
and choral work, but is rather less so in today’s employment market, which requires
entrepreneurship, creativity and flexibility.
The challenge is for institutions to devise programmes of study that are not evaluated
according to conventionally measurable criteria. This means loosening their grip on the
creative impulses of their students. At its simplest and most generous, this might mean
simply giving a student time and space, letting him or her decide how often to meet with
teachers, allowing the responsibility for creative learning to lie with the student, not the
teacher. Proactive students need a teacher as one of a number of resources, which include
time, space, and the opportunity to absorb influences from musics and disciplines other
than their own. In this context, teachers have a responsibility to consider how their teaching
may facilitate the creative learner. Mullen’s concept of the ‘facilitraining rainbow’ in which
community music leaders move ‘through a range of roles from demonstrator-teacher-coach-
Socratic director-facilitator-guardian of the process-abdicator’ (Mullen 2008) could equally
be applied to instrumental and vocal teachers as well as to academic staff.
Mullen’s list highlights the relinquishing of instructive behaviour in order to encourage
metacognitive development, creativity and learner autonomy. Through the use of higher-
order questions students can be encouraged to consider aspects of their learning, for
example, to devise alternative approaches, to contemplate the learning stages and to
assess possibilities for further exploration. One of the key aspects of creativity is divergent
thinking, and teachers should be encouraging students to explore many aspects of technical
and musical problem-solving, rather than imposing a ‘quick-fix’ solution. Of course, in
many instances where time is limited, this feels like an attractive solution, but is hardly
a satisfactory strategy for developing lifelong independent learning, being more likely to
lead to teacher-dependency and lack of self-belief, neither of which would ever be publicly
endorsed by teachers as aims for learning. Fautley and Savage noted that ‘teaching for
creativity entails taking the students on a creative journey where their responses are not
predetermined’ (2007, p. 92). This would appear to go against the expectations of some
teachers, who may either anticipate a ‘correct’ musical, physical or verbal response, or
may simply impose a solution due to time constraints. Craft suggested that teaching for
creativity involves ‘the passing of control to the learner’ (2005, p. 42) which again reflects
Mullen’s idea of the relinquishing of control in the ‘abdicator’ stage. The view of the
teacher as facilitator suggests that learning will be student-focused, owned by the student
and that each learner will ‘construct knowledge for themselves, rather than knowledge
coming from the teacher and being absorbed by the pupil (Muijs & Reynolds, 2005, p. 62).
In this model, the teacher has to consider teaching creatively, teaching for creativity, and the
various models of thinking required for creativity.
Teaching Creatively
1
National Advisory Committee on Creative and Cultural Education, established 1998, UK.
Creativity and the Institutional Mindset 133
that the teacher must remember that ‘we can never be certain what our pupils will
learn’ (ibid.) – in other words, we cannot predict learning outcomes. For creative learning to
occur, Lucas suggested that four key conditions need to be present. Firstly the student needs
‘to be challenged’ through goal-setting; negative stress needs to be reduced; feedback must
be given so that the student can develop the ability to reflect, articulate and evaluate aspects
of the working process; and finally the student needs ‘the capacity to live with uncertainty’
(Lucas, 2001, p. 39), which resonates with Keats’ concept of ‘negative capability’ mentioned
earlier. Lucas noted that ‘creative teachers are interested in knowledge, but they are more
interested in skills and even more interested in attitudes and values’ (2001, p. 39). Strategies
that support students to consider and construct meaning for themselves are also likely to
build their levels of intrinsic motivation. In turn, students will exhibit certain behaviours and
articulate ideas which demonstrate their engagement with creative learning. These include:
‘questioning and challenging; making connections; seeing relationships; envisaging what
might be; exploring ideas, keeping options open; reflecting critically on ideas, actions,
outcomes’ (QCA, 20042). Teachers can encourage the development of attributes such
as ‘risk-taking, independent judgement, commitment, resilience in the face of adversity’
(Craft et al, 2004, p. 23) and also learner independence, questioning, self-evaluative skills
and openness to new experiences (Fautley & Savage, 2007, p. 113). This openness could
also be described as ‘mindfulness’ which Langer defines as ‘the continuous creation of
new categories; openness to new information; and an implicit awareness of more than one
perspective’ (2007, p. 4). These attributes contribute to divergent thinking (Guilford, 1967)
and to Craft’s notion of ‘possibility thinking’ (2004, p. 4) in which a ‘what if?’ approach
leads to the generation and exploration of new ideas.
Boden proposed that there are three types of creative thinking: combinational,
exploratory and transformational (1990). Combinational creativity ‘produces new ideas by
combining (associating) old ideas in unfamiliar ways’ (Boden, 2001, p. 96). Along with
exploratory creativity, this usually develops from a conceptual understanding of a domain,
and the ability to draw on diverse sources within it. Boden (2001, p. 95) suggested that a
certain amount of expertise is necessary to be creative within a domain; however, Piirto
argued that a learner can still be creative even if they are not expert in the domain (1992).
Transformational creativity ‘involves some significant alteration of one of more of the rules
of the current conceptual space’ which facilitates new ideas which previously could not
have been imagined. Boden noted that ‘the more fundamental the rule that is transformed,
the more shocking or “impossible” the new ideas will seem to be’ (2001, p. 97). This type
of creativity may perhaps be the most difficult for teachers to countenance, which is perhaps
one explanation why it may be easier for the autodidact to engage in this type of creativity.
One way in which teachers can develop student learning is actively to share their own
creative processes at work (not just the products of these processes). NACCCE stated that
‘teachers cannot develop the creative abilities of their pupils if their own creative abilities
are suppressed’ (1990, p. 90). Fautley & Savage noted that ‘teachers need to model a
creative process in their own work in order to draw students into the inherent possibilities
of their own creative processes’ (2007, p. 103). Ireson et al suggest that this should show the
elements of risk taking and creative decision making through demonstrating and discussing
the false starts involved (1999, p. 222). Cowley outlined several benefits to both teachers
and students which included helping the teacher to understand the needs and feelings
of the learner and encouraging the learner to think more deeply, demonstrating not just
2
Qualifications and Curriculum Development Agency (active until 2012, UK).
134 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
the work-in-progress but also ‘a piece of ourselves to our pupils’ and as a learning tool
‘to demonstrate how pupils respond differently to creative processes and outcomes and
evaluate creative work in different ways’ (2005, p. 66–7).
While it could be suggested that apprenticeship models (such as those which predominate
in instrumental and vocal learning) provide a context to engage in process-driven learning,
it is likely that under time constraints the focus may become goal-orientated towards exams
and recitals. However, the student and teacher are in a position where the student could
also explore learning processes not merely through developing their own, but also through
cognitive apprenticeship (Collins et al, 1991): engaging in discussion with their teacher
about how the teacher learns. Yet teachers rarely expose unpolished playing, which may
suggest to the student that teachers have attained their skills through some mysterious and
probably inaccessible way, rather than through a creative process using adaptable approaches
to material. While apprenticeship, seen in relation to the learning of arts, crafts, industrial
and health care skills usually relates to a significant part of learning occurring through
observation, reflection and discussion (Schön, 1987), musical learning may focus on the
acquisition of the elements of skill without discussion of the contextual application of these
elements in a professional context. When does the learner witness the teacher’s creative
process at work – in practice sessions, in rehearsal? – and have the opportunity to interact with
this and question the decisions and impulses behind them? As expertise develops it becomes
increasingly likely that creative decisions appear to be made on an instinctive, intuitive basis,
which perhaps further contributes to the myth of the creative genius. However, engagement
with the articulation of the creative process could be a powerful inspiration for musicians.
Otherwise, it is as if the learner develops some tools but nevertheless has incomplete models
of reference. Perhaps this attitude stems from a view of the culture of learning and teaching as
one of replication rather than of creative exploration. Here, mentors who are not necessarily
instrument-specific might facilitate a broader approach to creativity, being unconstrained by
notions of technical limitations and/or what might be defined as ‘good practice’.
One problem with current institutional models is that the more institutionalized
lecturers become, the less in touch they may be with ‘real-world’ contexts and with
the skills and attitudes needed, not just to exist, but more importantly, to flourish. The
traditional institutional model easily accommodates separation of lecturer activities outside
the institution (if these do exist) from teaching activities. The former affirm their status
with the visibility of ‘products’ such as books or recordings which may simultaneously
masquerade as tokens of real-world connection. The latter may only relate to the former
through extrapolation of material as course units and lectures. But in the new model the
exploration of material and resources would form the crucible of learning, and is therefore
process-driven as opposed to outcome-driven. In the past, it was assumed that by helping
students to develop performance skills they would automatically be able to apply these
to whatever the needs of their working environment happened to be. Yet what use is the
ability to perform diploma-level repertoire if the student needs the tools of improvising,
arranging and harmonising at the keyboard in order to be an effective class music teacher,
for example? Confidence is not necessarily instilled through increasing technical ability
or depth of repertoire knowledge: it grows through the versatility of skills and their broad
application and through the awareness of metacognitive development, which can be assisted
through reflection on learning. Teachers can aid these processes through taking an interest
in current real-world musical contexts, and by acting as mentors; time spent enabling the
students to articulate their thoughts about their development and exploring new contexts for
their work can be hugely beneficial for both parties.
Creativity and the Institutional Mindset 135
So far, we have suggested that the teacher’s role takes on more of a mentor-like quality,
with the cultivation of facilitative rather than directive instruction. Yet the teacher is only
one small part of a hopefully vibrant community of learners. Within music departments
there has been a tendency to label musicians as ‘specialists’ in their domain, which then
leads to the likelihood of these specialists closing off their activities in other areas, either
by choice or through external influence/pressures. Students may complain that a composer
cannot assess, or even usefully comment on performance, assuming that s/he will possess
little actual performance experience and ignoring the fact that as a composer they will
have a wide knowledge of instruments and voices. The composer may never write for
students, thereby creating more separation. And instrumental teachers, often existing on
the periphery of university music departments, become known for their activities in usually
just one area. Somehow, the fallacy that the ‘musician’ resides in the instrument or voice
with which the person is associated, or labelled, is perpetuated, rather than the idea that
the musician resides in the person. In a new model, students should be encouraged to
work with a range of musicians – not just those who also play their own instrument. In the
new model, the people involved would function more like a collective, all learning from
each other.
Students could be encouraged to develop facilitative skills including positive and
productive communication skills through coaching each other, not only on their own
instrument/voice but also in non-instrument-specific contexts. When exploring this with
undergraduate and postgraduate students we found that students acting as ‘coach’ and
those receiving coaching had valuable insights which resulted in productive dialogue and
experimental transfer of applied concepts from one instrument to another. This did include
technical aspects, although they were more likely to consider holistic or global perceptions
of the playing. Coaching in this manner can have a powerful impact in re-affirming the
sense of both parties as musicians in dialogue, involved in the process of discovery,
working collaboratively and thinking creatively. Research on creativity often suggests that
it is more likely to occur through the juxtaposition of contrasting ideas or perspectives. In
the model utilising non-instrument-specific coaching we can see that creativity is likely to
occur through this way of working.
In fact, the positive perception of ‘mistakes’ is one of the keys to creativity. Fautley &
Savage noted that ‘risk taking needs to be a key part of creativity’ and ‘creative learning
projects need to build in the freedom to fail’ (2007, p. 66). Gardner described the process of
reflection on so-called failure as ‘framing’ in which learners simply ask what they can learn
from failure, using it as a positive tool (1997, p. 83–4). Aspects perceived as errors can be
used to transform creative work: here the process is of as much value as the product, and
the learner becomes increasingly adaptable and is not blocked by apparent errors or dead
ends. In this scenario the teacher’s use of questioning strategies is important: all teachers
use ‘product’ questions, aiming to elicit an answer to a problem, but the use of ‘processing
questions’ designed to draw out responses involving procedures, processes and rules has
been shown to be a strategy used by more effective teachers (Muijs et al, 2010) and is more
likely to encourage a productive attitude towards mistakes.
In an ideal world, students could pursue creative activities with no anxiety about
assessment, but the norm is rather different. As Kleiman noted, ‘the sort of characteristics
and traits such as risk-taking, subversion, working round systems etc., that creative and
enterprising individuals tend to exhibit, do not sit or fit easily within the generally risk-
averse, inflexible systems that currently characterise UK higher education’ (2006). Evans
suggests that educators need to consider ‘to what extent it is possible to include notions of
risk-taking, innovation and originality, or willingness to change and adapt to new ideas’
(2006, p. 18) and whether students can then ‘a) recognize these qualities and their value,
and b) employ them effectively in their own work so that they can produce evidence’ (2006,
p. 18). In fact, assessment has been shown to have a negative impact on the quality of
creative work: Amabile found that both writers and artists in controlled experimental tests
where they were asked to think about extrinsic motivators produced work judged to be less
creative than when it was intrinsically motivated (Silverstone, 2002).
The use of a variety of methods of assessment has been advocated by Fryer (2000),
Edwards et al (2006), Dineen (2006), Cowan (2006) and Balchin (2006). Cowan argued that
‘the person nearest to the creativity is the creator. It surely then makes sense to move the
assessing activity and responsibility as near as possible to the person who is best informed,
provided the outcome is declared’ (2006, p. 167). It would seem that the most logical (and
creative) means of assessment is to involve the learner in making a portfolio of ‘evidence’
outlining their idea of what creativity means, how it relates to their own work, where their
material came from, how it developed and how they would judge it (Cowan, 2006, p. 161)
which could then be ‘audited by assessors who do not know the learner’s current work, and
must authenticate the process of assessment and the learner’s consequent judgement from
the self-assessment collection itself’ (Cowan, 2006, p. 166). In some areas of work this has
been effectively developed as peer assessment in collaboration with self-assessment; in
others, it has been developed as consensual assessment with teachers and/or peers/others
(Balchin, 2006). Balchin noted that the ‘outcomes model of learning’ prevalent in many UK
higher education institutions does little to encourage creativity, and that the summative forms
of assessment often used also prohibit risk-taking and encourage the student to seek ‘the
outcomes intended by the teacher, rather than the outcomes the student may like to achieve
given more flexibility’ (2006, p. 174). Kleiman (2005) outlined a system of ‘negotiated
assessment’ developed by the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts in which students
are encouraged to view assessment as part of the learning process, and where ‘students
become agents in their own assessment rather than objects of assessment’ (2005, p. 16).
Assessment comprised six categories: Presentation/Production; Process; Idea; Technical;
Documentation, and Interview. Furthermore, ‘through negotiation between the students and
Creativity and the Institutional Mindset 137
the tutor(s), the assessment weighting for each of the fields could be altered’ (2005, p. 16),
meaning that a risk-taking endeavour could be weighted in favour of process rather than
product, for example. Kleiman also noted that because the assessment procedures are
‘transparent, explicit and mutually agreed’ (2005, p. 17) there is a greater degree of student
contentment with the assessment outcome than with previous methods.
One theme which appears to be running through all strands of creativity is that of
learner empowerment. It could be argued that in devising self-assessment strategies,
learners are developing more awareness of concepts which will undoubtedly appear
in subsequent employment; they become able to develop a vocabulary to communicate
not just concepts of their work but also its values; and they invest more in the process of
developing that work. Lebler’s work on developing popular music study programmes in
higher education has shown that an approach in which pedagogy, practice and assessment
all derive from ‘real-world’ contexts enables student creativity, student ownership of
learning and deep engagement with the learning process. Lebler & McWilliam noted that
the focus is ‘on engaging students across all year levels as members of a community of
practice’ and that ‘the main pedagogical work … is the management of a learning system
rather than the provision of knowledge and assessment and the teaching of skills’ (Lebler &
McWilliam, 2008, italics original). In this learning culture students devise their work for
each semester: ‘their work is self-directed and self-motivated rather than being under the
specific direction of a teacher, particularly in terms of deciding the direction and context of
creative work and with whom it will be done’ (Lebler, 2007, p. 211). Here, the ‘pedagogy
shifts from the provision of expert mentor services to the design of a learning experience
within which students and teachers co-produce learning’ (Lebler, 2007, p. 206). Teachers
provide feedback and guidance but do not deliver one-to-one teaching; their function is
one of ‘co-creativity and co-assessing’ (2007, p. 213). The qualities of empowerment and
ownership now replace notions of conformity and reductionist methods of teaching.
Lebler’s work exemplifies the call by Renshaw for a ‘shift from a teaching to a learning
culture’ (Renshaw, 2000) and for the building of connections and dialogue between
institutions and real-world cultures (Renshaw, 2002). This model is also apparent in
Richard Wistreich’s former work at Newcastle University, UK, where music students are
also part of a real-world culture within the institution, and their learning takes place within
collective contexts rather than individual ones (Wistreich, 2008). Models applying these
types of learning structures are still infrequently developed in the context of ‘classical’
music learning in higher music education, partly because traditional models prevail, and
because the need for change has not yet become insistent enough for many institutions to
take notice.
In 2010 the IBM Global CEO Survey identified creativity as the most important competency
for leaders (IBM, 2010). Many business organisations now provide a model which could be
adapted to educational institutions, where a focus on providing an environment specifically
designed or adapted to facilitate creativity also stimulates employee productivity, a sense of
commitment to the employer and enjoyment at work (for example, Google). The provision
of a range of meeting and working spaces with varied styles and ‘feels’ deliberately
encourages communication and also allows for ‘different activities and cognitive intensity’
and ‘different personal preferences’ (Martens, 2011). It also encourages the idea of being
138 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
‘“seriously playful” at work and to be “playfully serious”’ (Garvey & Williamson, 2002,
p. 27) which facilitates creativity. Fluid working spaces also promote ease of communication
between different levels of management personnel, which is then more likely to create a
community of equals rather than one of top-down management, highlighting trust rather
than control. Despite the business orientation of this culture, the obvious cultivation of
possibility thinking makes for interesting comparison against the driver of ‘productivity
thinking’, which appears to be prominent in many musical institutions with their competitive
cultures of assessment and judgment. Also worthy of comparison is the visibility of the
ethos of companies such as Google, which is directly manifest in their culture of interest,
collaboration and empowerment. The ethos of many music departments, although stated in
the prospectus, may not necessarily be a ‘living agenda’ in the institution.
Moving from an audit culture, ‘where clear measurements of achievement, in terms
of quantifiable short-term outputs and standards, are considered benchmarks of success’
(Smith-Bingham, 2006, p. 14) will involve a continual process of communication,
reflection, development of a community vision, and evident visibility of institutional ethos
and direction. This process could be driven by those close to the actualities of learning,
rather than those in higher management levels (particularly in university contexts where
upper-level management often includes people with no idea of the subject domain, or about
the realities of studying within the specific department). Motivating learning through a
negotiated approach, supported by a cycle of communication, planning, implementation
and evaluation, can be facilitated by prioritising student interests and actively seeking
student feedback throughout. This learning context could become a ‘transformational
culture’ (Scrivener, 2008) in which ‘the idea of transformation is the goal of research’ (ibid.)
and students are able to negotiate their own curriculum, assessment, and are given resources
and space for learning, collaboration and reflection in a stimulating physical environment.
Jeffrey (2005) advocated a management model ‘where as much as possible is devolved
to the delivery teams’ and ‘a commitment to work in partnership with a variety of relevant
agencies in the community’. Grounded in the reality of student needs and interests and
real-world practices, staff and students would all be working towards ‘the cultivation of
forward-thinking, entrepreneurial and networked mindsets that thrive on the application of
discipline and imagination in relation to subjects of investigation’ (Smith-Bingham, 2006,
p. 17). The learning culture could be evaluated by external auditors, not necessarily musical
or academic specialists; students could write the prospectus, and former students could
endorse the prospectus through evaluating the application of skills developed through the
learning process in conjunction with their transition into the realities of the world of post-
institutional music. Each individual’s interests would be considered and supported through
the possibilities offered by working with a range of resources and personnel, including
lecturers, instrumental and vocal teachers, peers, other practitioners and both instrument-
specific and non-instrument-specific musicians, on projects devised by the student. Process-
driven, reflective and communicative learning focusing on the exploration of material and
the development of the individual, in a variety of contexts, means that the learning culture
will never be static, or ruled by a prescriptive curriculum, but will instead be nurturing,
facilitative, dynamic, vibrant and creative.
Creativity and the Institutional Mindset 139
References
Other resources
http://www.google.com/corporate/culture.html.
http://www.google.co.uk/intl/en/jobs/lifeatgoogle/toptenreasons/index.html.
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 10
through a glass, vividly:
shedding light on the extraordinary Musical
Journeys of some children
on the Autism spectrum
Adam ockelford
Introduction
on hearing the sound of the organ, the baby stayed quite still in his mother’s arms. Just
twelve months old, he had been born totally blind, and it later emerged that he was autistic
and had severe learning difficulties as well. His mother had brought him to meet me at the
special school where i was then head of music.
When they arrived, a pupil was playing the organ. on hearing the sound, the baby
was transfixed. He listened, intently, for around quarter of an hour, while the organ music
continued. i remember thinking (and mentioning to his mother) that here was a child who
evidently showed signs of exceptional musical interest, which may or may not translate
into exceptional musical ability as he grew up. At any event, it seemed important to ensure
that he was exposed to a wide range of a different musics in the coming months and years,
had access to instruments and other sound-makers to explore freely and to play with, and
had plenty of close, enjoyable musical interactions with his adult carers involving the
voice, movement and touch.
i next met the little boy six months later. this time, his mother lifted him up onto the
piano stool, and he proceeded to pick out a series of nursery rhymes that were, i noticed,
in c major. this suggested to me that he had encoded the melodies using ‘relative’ rather
than ‘absolute’ pitch (‘AP’); that is, through patterns of intervals rather than the notes
themselves, since there would be no particular reason why the tunes he had learnt to play
should all have appeared in one key.
A further six months passed, and we met again. As the two-year-old sat on his mother’s
knee at the piano, i hummed Twinkle, Twinkle in A major. What would he do, reproduce
the notes themselves (suggesting that he may have AP) or, as before, replicate only
the differences between them (indicating that ‘relative’ pitch was still his predominant
processing strategy)? the answer came straight away. not only did he reproduce the tune
in the correct key, but it also appeared with a rudimentary accompaniment, comprising
individual notes, in the left hand.
I was astonished. Here was someone who, despite never having seen anyone play,
with little or no understanding of language, and with minimal adult intervention, had
144 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
taught himself to play the piano – an accomplishment that few adults ever achieve, let
alone 24-month-old children with severe learning difficulties.
During the last three decades of engaging through music with autistic children, as both a
teacher and researcher, I have been privileged to observe a number of simply extraordinary
musical journeys – none more so than that of the little blind, autistic boy described above.
I met him at a relatively early stage in my career, and was intrigued to know how he had
managed the seemingly impossible task, for one so young, and with profound intellectual
and sensory disadvantages, of learning to play the piano by ear. What were the factors that
made it possible? Were there lessons to be learnt for other children on the autism spectrum?
Indeed, were there things that all of us could take from the boy’s example?
Theories of Autism
First, let us consider what is meant by ‘autism’. There is general agreement that it is a lifelong,
neurological condition that manifests itself early on; typically within the first two or three
years of childhood (see, for example, Hobson, 1993; Happé, 1995; Frith, 2003; Wing, 2003;
Boucher, 2009). Its effects can be profound, pervading the whole of a child’s development.
Yet autism is elusive. It is not one condition with a single physiological source: researchers
have not been able to isolate a particular part of the brain that is wired up anomalously and
say ‘this is the cause’. Rather, autism is identified on the basis of observed behaviours,
which can vary widely both between and within individuals in different contexts and at
varying stages of their maturation. Diagnostically, the best that clinicians can currently
do is to refer to a list of attributes, and say that if a child exhibits certain combinations of
these, then he or she can be described as having an ‘autism spectrum disorder’. Hence, as
our understanding of brain function improves, it may be that the notion of ‘autism’ will be
resolved into a number of more specific conditions.
Intuitively, this feels right: visit any centre for children on the autism spectrum,
and you are likely to be struck by the diversity of those present. For instance, one child
(typically a boy) may address you animatedly, as though in mid-conversation, about a topic
that bears no apparent relation to the immediate environment. Another may completely
ignore you, his attention apparently taken up with the parallel light and dark stripes made
by the window blind, in front of which he is flicking his fingers. One of his classmates
may be sitting at a desk, concentrating intently on drawing tiny geometric shapes that
interlock in intricate patterns. And there may be a fourth child, standing in the corner of
the room, hands over his ears, eyes closed, rocking, and producing high-pitched, repetitive
vocal sounds.
All these children are likely to be categorised as ‘autistic’ according to the criteria
published by the World Health Organisation (WHO)1 and the American Psychiatric
Association (APA),2 which are internationally accepted and the most widely used. They
define autism in terms of three broad characteristics: (a) qualitative impairment in social
interaction, (b) qualitative impairment in communication, and (c) restricted, repetitive and
stereotyped patterns of behaviour, interests and activities. These descriptions are broken
down further as follows:
1
See www.who.int/classifications/icd/en/
2
See http://www.psych.org/practice/dsm
Through a Glass, Vividly 145
Towards the end of the twentieth century, three theories dominated academic thinking about
the causes of autism, each associated with one of the main characteristics of the WHO/
APA definition. Defective ‘theory of mind’ (Frith, 2001; Baron-Cohen, 1995, 2000, 2009;
Baron-Cohen, Leslie and Frith, 1985); Tager-Flusberg, 2001) – the ability to attribute
mental states to oneself and others, and to understand that others may have ideas that
differ from one’s own – was held to be responsible for ‘impairment in social interaction’.
‘Weak central coherence’ (Frith and Happé, 1994; Happé, 1996; Happé and Booth, 2008) –
the tendency to think about things in terms of their parts rather than as a whole – was
linked to communication difficulties (as well, more positively, as accounting for enhanced
perception of detail and some ‘savant-like’ abilities). ‘Executive dysfunction’ (Turner, 1997;
Hill, 2004; South, Ozonoff and McMahon, 2007) – a problem with the domain of processing
that regulates and controls other cognitive functions – was thought to lead to rigid and
repetitive behaviours.
While these accounts make perfect sense, they do not appear to be able to account
for all the characteristics of and behaviours exhibited by children on the autism spectrum,
particularly those pertaining to sound and music. Consider, for example, the following
questions, posed to me by parents over the years.
Why is Jack obsessed with the sound of the microwave? He can’t bear to leave the kitchen
till it’s stopped. And just lately, he’s become very interested in the tumble-drier too …
Why does my four-year old daughter just repeat what I say? For a long time, she didn’t
speak at all, but now, the educational psychologist tells me, she’s ‘echolalic’. I say, ‘Hello,
Anna’, and she says ‘Hello, Anna’ back. I ask ‘Do you want to play with your toys’ and
she just replies ‘Play with your toys’, though I don’t think she really knows what I mean.
Why does Ben want to listen to the jingles that he downloads from the internet all the time?
And I mean, the whole time – 16 hours a day if we let him. He doesn’t even play them all
146 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
the way through: sometimes just the first couple of seconds of a clip, over and over again.
He must have heard them thousands of times. But he never seems to get bored.
Why does Callum put his hands over his ears and start rocking and humming to himself
when my mobile goes off, but totally ignores the ringtone on my husband’s phone, which
is much louder?
Why does Freddie flick any glasses, bowls, pots or pans that are within reach? The other
day, he emptied out the dresser – and even brought in half a dozen flowerpots from the
garden – and lined everything up on the floor. I couldn’t see a pattern in what he’d done,
but if I moved anything when he was wasn’t looking, he’d notice straight away, and move
it back again.
Why does Romy sometimes only pretend to play the notes on her keyboard – touching the
keys with her fingers but not actually pressing them down?
Why does Bharat repeatedly bang away at particular notes on his piano (mainly
‘B’ and ‘F sharp’, high up in the right hand), sometimes persisting until the string or the
hammer breaks?
The main theories of autism seemed awkwardly mute on these topics. So what was the
element missing from our understanding?
As the account at the beginning of this chapter suggests, my route to working with children
with autism was somewhat unusual, in that it came through the world of the blind: my
first pupils with special needs were severely visually impaired. It quickly became evident
that sound provided them with a hugely important channel for gathering information and
communicating with others, for learning and for recreation, and I soon learnt to follow my
pupils’ auditory instincts, not only in music, but in their wider education too.
This aural approach, I discovered later, did not align with most of the pedagogical
strategies that had evolved in relation to children with autism, which were predominantly
visual in nature: augmentative communication systems such as PECS (see Bondy &
Frost, 2011), and timetables and enabling environments such as those advocated by the
TEACCH programme (Mesibov, Shea & Schopler, 2005) were largely constructed to be
seen but not heard. And visiting schools for autistic children one is frequently struck by
how much attention is paid to pupils’ visual surroundings, while relatively little emphasis
is often placed on what they hear, and the potential impact that sound, both planned and
unplanned, may have, positively or negatively, on their well-being and capacity to learn.
Hand in hand with my developing interest in special abilities and needs was the wider
issue of how music makes sense to us all: how is it, simply by listening, and without the
need for any formal education, that just about everyone can understand and enjoy music?
To this end, I developed my ‘zygonic’ theory of musical understanding, which holds
that music functions like a non-semantic language, comprising notes rather than words,
whose syntactical ‘glue’ is imitation (Ockelford, 2005a, 2009, 2012b). Hence we would
expect repetition (of pitches, intervals, harmonies, tonal centres, durations, inter-onset
Through a Glass, Vividly 147
Why do so many of the congenitally blind process sound in such a different way from
most people? Elsewhere (Ockelford, 2013), I assert that blindness causes what I call
an ‘Exceptional Early Cognitive Environment’ (an ‘EECE’), in which musical skills
are particularly likely to flourish. Human brains evolved to work with a wide range of
perceptual input: sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell, balance, and so on. Deny the brain
its principal source of information about the world (vision), and its focus of attention will
be driven elsewhere – particularly to sound – and, in the first years of life, it will literally
wire itself up differently to ensure optimum performance with the limited data that it
has available.
For some years now, there has been a debate among academics and educators about the
relationship between blindness and autism. Clearly, there are some people who are autistic
but not blind, there are others who are blind who do not have autism spectrum disorder,
and there are a number who are both blind and autistic (Dale & Salt, 2008; Hobson &
Lee, 2010; Pring, 2005). But the issue is that blind children are quite likely to exhibit
behaviours that are generally considered to be characteristic of autism, potentially calling
into question how autism is defined and recognised, and making the assessment of severely
visually impaired children in the early years particularly challenging. Suffice it to say
that most of the examples given above of autistic-like behaviours, such as a fascination
with the sounds of certain household appliances, computers and phones, an obsessive
148 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
interest in particular fragments or features of music, and the tendency to echolalia, are
commonplace among blind children. And, like children born with little or no sight, autistic
children too have a markedly higher probability of having AP than those with neurotypical
development – perhaps around one in 20 – and music is often among their special areas of
interest and achievement.
So, could it be that young children with autism are also affected by an Exceptional Early
Cognitive Environment, similar to that experienced by blind children, and with the same
potential to promote high levels of musical interest and development? Although at the first
blush this may seem unlikely (since blindness and autism are manifestly so very different),
that is exactly what I believe. That is not to say that I believe a significant number of
severely autistic children are likely to become publicly-recognised musicians, performing
or composing at a high level within their culture (although some may). However, I do
contend that where exceptional musical interests or abilities are to be found (and I believe
Through a Glass, Vividly 149
Fig. 10.2 Everyday sounds and speech may be processed in musical terms by some
children on the autism spectrum
that these are far more widespread than is generally recognised among the population of
autistic children, hidden in behaviours such as those described above), they should be
nurtured, potentially offering both a source of enormous pleasure and fulfilment in its own
right, as well as having the capacity to promote wider learning and development, and well-
being.
At the heart of the EECE theory is an ‘ecological’ model of auditory development
(cf. Gaver, 1993; Miller & Ockelford, 2005). This acknowledges that there are three distinct
ways in which humans hear sounds, according to whether they pertain to speech, music or
the environment (see Figure 10.1).
These three strands of auditory processing emerge as audition develops in the first year
or so of life. But for some children who are blind or on the autism spectrum, it appears that
either everyday sounds, or language, or both become processed, to a greater or lesser extent,
as music (Figure 10.2).
150 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Evidence that children may attach particular importance to everyday sounds (and that,
in some cases, auditory perceptual skills may become heightened in this domain) comes
from my studies of young people who are born blind or who lose their sight in the first
few months of life. Parents report that almost all this group have a special interest in
everyday sounds (around two or three times as many as those who are fully sighted). It
seems that, in the absence of vision, sound has a distinctive appeal and offers a ready
source of stimulation. For example, one mother commented that her blind three-year-
old daughter was interested in sounds of ‘anything and everything since this is a huge
part of her learning experience’. Other visually impaired children appear to be attracted
to sounds for the sheer pleasure they bring. For instance, the mother of a five-year-old
boy noted that ‘he loves repetitive sounds – [he] will press toys which make noises over
and over to hear the sounds’. Other favourite sources of sound that parents mentioned
included wind-chimes and birdsong, and one five-year-old boy was said to love listening
to the rain and the sea: ‘he loves the sound of breaking waves’. The importance of sound
may become evident not only through particularly attentive or sustained listening but also
through mimicry. For instance, the 18-month-old who was reported to enjoy exploring
toys through the sounds they make ‘also mimics a lot of sounds – not just words – like
clearing your throat’, while another boy of the same age was said to copy unusual animal
sounds. Similarly, one mother of a three-year-old boy described his liking of the sounds
that ‘different surfaces make when tapped or banged’ and his enjoyment when ‘imitating
vocal sounds we make’.
Some children with autism display a similar fascination for everyday sounds: recall
Jack (p. XXX), who is obsessed with the sound of the microwave (and, increasingly, the
tumble-drier), and, of course, Freddie’s flowerpots. When I first met Freddie (aged nine), he
indulged in a range of pursuits that bemused his parents, including habitually flicking any
resonant objects that were within reach, and, one day, removing the 20 flowerpots or so (and
their contents) from the patio and bringing them into the kitchen. Freddie arranged these on
all available surfaces, like some earthenware gamelan, and he ran around gleefully, playing
his newly-constructed instrument with characteristic flicks of the fingers. Woe betide his
mother if she tried to tidy the pots up, shifting any of them by even the smallest degree,
while Freddie was at school! The slightest rearrangement would instantly be noticed and
rectified on his return.
So what is happening here? One might reasonably expect that blind children, in the
absence of the visual input that would otherwise by their main source of information about
the world around them, would be particularly attracted to salient features in the auditory
landscape. One might also predict that, without the visual data to contextualise what is
heard – to know what is making a particular sound and why – that at least some auditory
information would remain at the perceptual level, rather an acquiring a functional gloss.
Hence the whirr of the tumble-drier and the hum of the vacuum cleaner would remain as
ends in themselves, as perceptual experiences to be relished, rather than portending dry
laundry or a clean carpet. (And, as one would expect, a key element in supporting young
blind children’s development is to help them link what they hear with tactile input and,
where appropriate, verbal explanation.)
But why do some children on the autism spectrum treat sound in the same way? Are
there the same cognitive mechanisms at work here, or different ones that have similar
consequences? For sure, a proportion of autistic children have problems in processing
visual information, which may partly account for the tendency to behave in certain respects
as though they were visually impaired. And many autistic children have difficulties with
Through a Glass, Vividly 151
‘sensory integration’: linking incoming data from different sensory modalities. That is, the
processes through which incoming streams of perceptual information in the domains of
sight, sound, touch, smell and taste (as well as balance and proprioception) are typically
bound together to produce single, coherent experiences and concepts, appear not to be
fully functional. One can speculate that this cognitive anomaly is linked to ‘weak central
coherence’, in which, as we have seen, there is a tendency to focus attention on parts of
things rather than wholes. So, in summary, a child on the autism spectrum may be facing
the double challenge of finding it difficult to link information received in different sensory
channels, as well as successively in one domain.
There can be a further consequence of the exceptional early cognitive environments
that blindness and autism cause, which pertains to language: ‘echolalia’. This feature of
speech is widely reported among blind and autistic children, and was originally defined as
the (apparently) meaningless repetition of words or groups of words. Echolalia can occur
immediately after the language in question has been heard, or its reoccurrence may be
delayed. Prizant and Duchan (1981) were among the first to observe that echolalia actually
can fulfil a range of functions in verbal interaction, such as turn-taking and affirmation, and
often finds a place in non-interactive contexts too, where it can serve as a self-reflective
commentary or rehearsal strategy.
Why does echolalia occur? It is a feature of normal language acquisition in young
children (one to two years old), when the urge to imitate what they hear outstrips semantic
understanding. As we have seen, zygonic theory holds that imitation lies at the heart of
musical structure, so one could argue that echolalia is the organisation of language (in the
absence of semantics and linguistic syntax) through musical structure. It is as though the
words (bearing little or no meaning) become musical objects, to be manipulated purely
through their sounding qualities.
It is worth noting that even music can become ‘super-structured’ with additional
repetition, as the account, for example, of Ben (p. XXX) shows: it is common for children
on the autism spectrum to play snippets of music (or videos with music) over and over again.
It is as though music’s proportion of repetition (estimated to be 80%; see Ockelford, 1999)
is insufficient for the mind ravenous for structure, and so it creates even more! Speaking
to autistic adults who are able to verbalise why (as children) they would repeat musical
excerpts in this way, it appears that the main reason (apart from the sheer enjoyment of
hearing a particularly fascinating series of sounds again and again) is that they could hear
more and more in the sequence concerned. Bearing in mind that most music is, as we have
seen, highly complex, with many events occurring simultaneously (and given that even
single notes generally comprise many pitches in the form of harmonics), to the child with
finely tuned auditory perception, there are in fact many different things to attend to in even
a few seconds of music, and many relationships between sounds to fathom. That is, while
listening to a passage a hundred times may be extremely tedious to the ‘neurotypical’ ear,
which can only detect half a dozen composite events, each fused in perception, to the mind
of the autistic child, which can break down the sequence into a dozen different melodic
lines, the stimulus may be rich and riveting.
Add music’s self-referencing structure to the ubiquity of music in a child’s environment
(Lamont, 2008), and everything is in place for EECEs to develop. The elements in such
development are modelled in Figure 10.3.
The key thing that transforms musical potential into advanced performing skills is
opportunity – and, as we shall see, the opportunities that children on the autism spectrum
require to progress musically may be different from those of their ‘neurotypical’ peers.
152 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 10.3 The supposed impact of ‘exceptional early cognitive environments’ caused
by autism on musical and wider auditory development
Most children set out on the path of learning an instrument at the direction of their parents or
teachers. In the Western classical tradition, the approach tends to be dominated by acquiring
the knowledge and skills to decode notation, which is seen as an essential element of
musicianship. Hence, the eye generally leads the ear. In fact, most children taught through
traditional means never do learn to play by ear and are imprisoned by the stave, unable to
play without dots on a page indicating what they should do.
However, for the great majority of children on the autism spectrum with AP, the ear
leads the eye and the hand. I believe it is absolute pitch perception that drives them towards
playing any instruments that they may find in their living or learning environments at home,
in the nursery or at school – typically the keyboard or piano – something that very often
Through a Glass, Vividly 153
occurs with no adult intervention. As Francesca Happé said recently at a Royal Society
Lecture,3 it is the autistic child’s eye for detail (in this case, ear for detail) that kick-starts
special talents. I would go further and say AP is the fire the fuels the acquisition of special
skills in the domain of music. Here, we consider how the kick-starting and the subsequent
fuelling of proactive musical engagement work.
Consider a ‘neurotypical’ child – Alfie – singing a playground chant, which he repeats
from time to time, though not always starting on the same note (see Figure 10.4). That is
to say, he has encoded and memorised the melodic motifs not as individual pitches in their
own right, but as a series of differences between them.4
However, for children such as Romy (on the autism spectrum – see p. XXX), who has
AP, the position is rather different, since she has the capacity to encode the pitch data from
music directly, rather than as series of intervals. So in seeking to remember and repeat
groups of notes over significant periods of time, she has a processing advantage over Alfie,
since he has to extract and store information at a higher level of abstraction.
It is this that explains why children on the autism spectrum with AP are able to develop
instrumental skills at an early age with no formal tuition, since for them, reproducing
groups of notes that they have heard is merely a question of remembering a series of
one-to-one mappings between given pitches as they sound and (typically) the keys on a
keyboard that produce them. These relationships are invariant: once learnt, they service
a lifetime of music making, through which they are constantly reinforced. Were Alfie to
try to play by ear, though, he would have to master the far more complicated process of
calculating how the intervals that he hears in his head map onto the distances between
keys, which, due to the asymmetries of the keyboard, are likely to differ according to her
starting point. For example, producing the interval between the first two notes of Alfie’s
song, a minor third, can be achieved through 12 distinct key combinations, comprising one
of four underlying patterns. Even more confusing, though, virtually the same physical leap
between keys may sound different (a major third) according to its position on the keyboard
(see Figure 10.5).
For sure, many children with AP who learn to play by ear rapidly develop the skills to
play melodies beginning on different notes too, and some, including a proportion of those
with severe learning difficulties, are able to play fluently in every key (a capacity that, as a
teacher, I strongly encourage). This may appear contradictory, in the light of the processing
advantage conferred by being able to encode pitches as perceptual identities in their own
right, each of which, as we have seen, maps uniquely onto a particular piano or organ key.
But the reality of almost all pieces is that motifs variously appear at different pitches, and
so to make sense of music, young children with AP need to learn to process pitch relatively
as well as absolutely. This begs the question of how the two forms of processing evolve and
interact in a child’s musical development.
3
On 26 October 2011, entitled: ‘When will we understand autism spectrum disorders?’
4
We can surmise, though, that absolute representations of pitch are not entirely absent for Alfie,
since the notes he uses on separate occasions are broadly similar.
154 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 10.5 Different mechanisms involved in playing by ear using ‘absolute’ and
‘relative’ pitch abilities
Through a Glass, Vividly 155
Let us take the case of Romy once more, who, at the time of writing, is 11 years old,
and has a repertoire of around 100 song excerpts and fragments of other pieces from a wide
range of styles that she enjoys using as material for improvised interactions on the piano. In
re-creating these motifs, she largely plays the melody alone with the right hand, although
she sometimes supplies a bass-line in the left, occasionally adding chords and, in the case
of the opening of the theme from the second movement of Beethoven’s Pathétique sonata,
a moving inner part. Apart from being an utterly joyous musician with whom to work,
Romy is fascinating from a music-psychological point of view because she does not always
get things right, and it is in her pattern of errors that one can obtain a rare glimpse into the
workings of an exceptional musical mind: in particular the relationship between absolute
and relative pitch processing, which, in her case, is still evolving.
For example, one of her passions of the moment is the theme from Vltava by Smetana. I
first played Romy the tune in E minor (the key in which it initially appears in the symphonic
poem), and she quickly picked it up using her AP ability, invariably reproducing the outline
of the melody correctly, sometimes adding new details of her own (see Figure 10.6).
This seems straightforward enough. But Romy is what can only be described as
an obsessive transposer. She will very often play the same motif over and over again,
frequently starting on a different note each time, and sometimes even changing key within
a particular appearance of the musical fragment concerned. As she likes me to provide an
accompaniment, the latter tendency is particularly challenging! It may be, though, that it is
this very challenge that offers one possible explanation for Romy’s maverick modulations,
since they keep her firmly in control of the shared musical narrative. This is a subtle
development of the influence that she previously had exerted through playing material in
different keys to prevent me from joining in (Ockelford, 2012a). She is now content for me
to participate in her creative flow provided that she feels in charge of what is happening.
Another reason, I believe, for Romy’s constant key changes is the buzz she gets from
hearing things that are at once well-known and novel: ‘so familiar and yet so strange’.5 Only
someone with her powerful sense of AP could experience shifts of key in this way: she will
often leap up and shriek with excitement as she hears the impact of a motif that she knows
well appearing as a fresh set of pitches – seeing old friends in a new light. And yet, she
sometimes makes mistakes that remain uncorrected at the time, and which are repeated on
future occasions. For example, in her version of the introduction of the Vltava melody in
F minor, she plays a B instead of a C; see Figure 10.7. This is a blatant error; observers in
Romy’s lessons notice it straight away.
It seems inconceivable that, at a certain level, Romy does not recognise that something
is wrong, given her advanced music-processing abilities. Yet at the same time, we can
assume that she wants to play things correctly (she very rarely makes mistakes, and is
5
See Wim Kayzer’s book Vertrouwd en a zo Vreemd: Over Geheugen en Bewustzijn (which
features an interview with Derek Paravicini; see p. XXX).
156 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 10.7 Romy’s uncharacteristic error as she transposes the Vltava theme
Fig. 10.8 A ‘relative pitch framework’ emerges from Alfie’s production of his motif,
beginning at an unspecified pitch level
somewhat intolerant of any changes that I may try to introduce within the accompaniments
with which she is familiar). So what is going on?
To find out, let us take a step back and consider again Alfie and his musical motif. Since
he reproduces the tune at different absolute pitches, we previously made the assumption
that this information is encoded largely as differences in pitch. Now, imagine Alfie is at
the stage of beginning to sing the first note. Without thinking, he chooses a pitch (which
will approximate to the ones he has used in earlier renditions of the same motif). We can
surmise that this will be stored in working memory and become a reference point for those
that follow, functioning as a temporary ‘absolute’ in the domain of pitch. In much the same
way, the second note will be retained, as a potential benchmark for others. Hence the third
note will have two possible points of reference, the fourth three, and so on: the unfolding
network of relationships creating an embryonic pitch framework through which the notes
are mentally locked together (Figure 10.8). There are no conflicts, and the structure is self-
sustaining.
Through a Glass, Vividly 157
Fig. 10.9 The conflict between absolute memories recalled and transposed is
thought to result in confusion and induce error
How does this differ from Romy’s position? We know that she initially encoded
the Vltava theme as a series of pitches pertaining to E minor (and therefore starting on
an B). When retrieving the melody at this pitch level, the task appears (for her) to be
straightforward, and she re-creates it without error (Figure 10.6): we can assume that she
plugs into her absolute pitch memories (which are, of course, not unique to this melody)
and reifies them on the piano.
It is not clear whether she also encoded the melody in relative terms, distinct from the
‘absolute’ memories, although, as we shall see, the error she makes throws this into doubt.
Let us assume for the moment that the pitches were only stored as absolute values. Given
a series of data in this form, there are two strategies that Romy could adopt when she
tries to transpose. The first would be to draw into working memory her long-term recall of
absolute pitches, and calculate a transposed version of each. Inevitably, this would produce
interference, since the values being calculated anew would conflict with those being
remembered, yielding the potential for confusion and – therefore – error. (See Figure 10.9.)
Similar incompatibilities would arise if an attempt were made to extract information
concerning intervals from the series of absolute pitches as they were recalled.
However, if relative data, in either of these two forms, were dissociable from the
absolute, then conflicts would not arise, and, we can surmise, errors would be less likely.
158 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Hence, one explanation for Romy’s mistakes in transposition may be a lack, or partial lack,
of discrete relative encoding of pitch in her long-term memory.
Most children with AP sooner or later find ways of resolving the potential conflicts like
this, between the ‘absolute’ and ‘relative’ encoding of pitch. Freddie (he of the flowerpots),
for example, learnt to play major and minor scales in every key on the piano by ear – but he
only required C major and minor as models. These provided him with the all the information
he required. When asked to play the scales on other notes, I could hear him singing the
next note that was required, and then finding the relevant key on the piano, which he did
very rapidly since, as we have seen, his AP means that he knows precisely what each note
sounds like. Any mistakes he made (largely due to difficulties with fingering, which he
continues to learn much more painstakingly through physical demonstration and support)
were immediately corrected. Hence we can assume that Freddie encoded the initial scale
patterns on C absolutely, abstracted the necessary information about pitch differences from
those traces, and subsequently drew on the this when transposing, plugging the nodes of
the intervals back into his absolute pitch framework (at a different level from the original)
(see Figure 10.10).
In summary, then, despite the conflicts that may arise from retrieving pitches encoded
relatively and absolutely, there seems to be little doubt that the possession of AP offers
a huge advantage to the musical development of children with autism and learning
difficulties, for whom many of the more conventional ways of learning (through emulating
peers working in social groups or through being taught using notation, for example) may
not be available. In short, AP may well enable children to function at a higher musical level
than they would otherwise be unable to do so, and, beyond this, it is AP that catalyses the
exceptional achievement found in musical savants.
Consider, for example, Derek Paravicini, blind, autistic and with severe learning
difficulties (see www.derekparavicini.net), whom I began teaching at the age of five. He
had started to teach himself to play the piano at the age of two, and sharing the keyboard –
which, for three years, had been his sole preserve – was initially an unfamiliar notion, as
this account of my first attempt to work with him, having met him once before, shows:6
As I had done at Linden Lodge, I reached forward and this time as gently as I could,
started to improvise a bass-line below what he was doing. The notes were barely audible
to me, but Derek was on to them immediately. His left hand shot down to where my fingers
had trespassed, shooed the intruders away with a flick, and instantly picked up from where
I had left off.
Round 1 to Derek.
Leaving my chair, I walked round to the other side of the piano and started improvising
an ornamented version of the tune high up – as far away as I could from his right hand.
In a flash he was there again, pushing my hand out of the way. Then once more he began
imitating what I had just played before extending it to fit in with the changes in harmony.
End of Round 2, and Derek was clearly ahead on points.
Still, by following me to the extremes of the keyboard, he had left the middle range
of notes temporarily exposed and, surreptitiously leaning over Derek’s shoulders, with a
feeling of mischievous triumph, I started to add in some chords. My victory was short-
lived, however. Without for one moment stopping what he was doing, he tried to push me
away with the back of his head. This time, though, I was minded to resist.
6
From my book, In the Key of Genius: The Extraordinary Life of Derek Paravicini.
160 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Matters of technique are likely to present a particular challenge to children with autism and
learning difficulties, especially for those who begin by teaching themselves. For example,
when he was very young, Derek, with very small hands but a huge determination to play
the complex musical textures he could resolve aurally, used his wrists and even his elbows
on occasions to play notes that would otherwise have been beyond his reach.7 The main
melodic line was typically placed in the middle of the texture and picked out with the
thumbs, giving it a characteristic percussive prominence.
While technical idiosyncrasies such as these are ultimately neither ‘right’ nor ‘wrong’,
certain methods of playing undoubtedly enable performers to fulfil their musical aims
more effectively than others – indeed, some passages on the piano may even be rendered
impossible unless a particular fingering is adopted. However, the prospect of changing
aspects of a child’s technique, which may have evolved wholly intuitively, can be daunting
too. Those with severe learning difficulties may have little capacity to reflect consciously
on what they do, and lack the receptive vocabulary to make description or analysis of their
efforts meaningful. Moreover, the challenges they face may be compounded with physical
disabilities. In circumstances such as there, teachers may opt for compromise: seeking
to modify a pupil’s technique only where it is judged to be essential; adopting, where
appropriate, an evolutionary rather than a radical approach to change; and, in a positive
way, acknowledging and accepting the effects on performance – technically, stylistically
and in terms of repertoire – that a child’s disabilities may have.
Teaching may have to rely to a great extent on demonstration (rather than explanation).
This may be based on the pupil seeing, feeling or listening to what is going on, or a
combination of the three. Listening, and seeking to emulate the quality of sound made by
the teacher or other performers, may be a crucial factor in technical development too, since
the pupil’s desire to reproduce what is heard may encourage the necessary motor activity
without needing conscious attention.
Whatever approach is adopted, the development of technique is likely to require many
hours of painstaking work on the part of both teacher and pupil. For example, as a little
boy, Derek tended to play passages of consecutive notes by jumping from one to the next
using the same finger – or sometimes even a series of karate chops with the side of his
hand! Despite the extraordinary dexterity this entailed, it was clear that his playing would
benefit enormously from incorporating the standard finger patterns associated with scales
and arpeggios.
I decided to start with some five-finger exercises, the foundation of all keyboard technique:
just up and down the keys, one note for each finger and the thumb. Would Derek find that
7
Eddie, the young savant with whom Leon Miller worked, apparently adopted the same
approach! (See Miller, 1989, p. 30.)
Through a Glass, Vividly 161
sufficiently engaging? How would he react? But these questions were supplanted in my
mind by a more immediate problem: how was I going to be able to get at the piano for long
enough to play the notes that he was supposed to be copying?
Sitting next to him on the piano stool, I tried holding both his wrists with my left hand
to give my right free rein on the keyboard. I reckoned that I only needed about ten seconds.
But that was nine too many for Derek. He wriggled out of my grip in no time and struck
the C that I had managed to play before being overwhelmed. I was afraid of hurting him if
I held his wrists any tighter, so I had to try something else.
‘Right, Derek,’ I declared, ‘we’re going to play a game. You’re going to sit over the
other side of the room while I play something on the piano, then you can come over and
see if you can copy it.’
I didn’t really expect to him understand what I’d said, but in any case, without waiting
to see his reaction, I picked him up and plopped him down on the floor at the far end of the
nursery. I strode back to the piano and quickly played the five-finger exercise. I’d only just
finished when Derek, who’d been amazingly quick out of the starting blocks and had fairly
scuttled across the room, was pushing me out of the way. That done, he reached across the
stool, and played what I had – well, a version of it. He used both hands to play a series of
chords, up and down. I had to laugh at his antics.
Then he stopped, waiting. This was a game whose rules he had somehow
immediately grasped.
So I picked him up again, sat him as far away as I could from the piano, raced back
and played the exercise once more – this time starting on the next note up, C sharp. Again,
my thumb was barely off the last key when Derek was back with his response.
And so we continued up the chromatic scale, until we’d tackled all twelve different
keys. That brought us back to C, and it felt right to stop there. Derek seemed to sense that
feeling of completion too, and he was content to return to his familiar routine of taking
requests for pieces to play. He still wouldn’t let me join in, I noticed, but I didn’t mind: I
was convinced that the five-finger-exercise game had provided the breakthrough that I had
been looking for. Now I had something to build on.
It was then a short step in the lesson that followed to leave Derek where he was on
the piano stool, and to engage in the ‘play-copy’ dialogue with no physical intervention
on my part at all. In due course, I started to imitate what he was doing too, enabling us
to have a genuine musical ‘conversation’. And it wasn’t just a matter of a musical ball
bouncing between us like echoes in an alleyway. Whatever you lobbed at Derek would
invariably come hurtling back with interest, and it was challenging to keep up with his
musical repartee, which combined wit and ingenuity with an incredible speed of thought.
With no words to get in the way, a whole world of sophisticated social intercourse was now
opened up to him. It was the second ‘eureka’ moment of his life: having first discovered that
he was able to play what he could hear, now he came to realise that he could communicate
through music. Indeed, for Derek, music came to function as a proxy-language, and it was
through music that his wider development was increasingly channelled.
To plug this gap in his experience, I tried putting his hands over mine, one at a time, so
that he could feel the shape of my hand and, to an extent, what my fingers were doing. We
tried it for a few weeks, but it didn’t seem to make any difference: whenever it was his
turn, Derek just carried on as before.
So I tried a different approach. I held his right hand on mine.
‘Look, Derek, here’s my thumb,’ I said, giving it a wiggle as his fingers curled
around it.
‘Now, where’s yours?’ I guided him to feel his right hand with his left.
‘That’s it! Now, let’s put your thumb on C, middle C.’ He allowed me to help him find
the correct note and to push it down with his thumb.
‘There you are.’ And I sang, ‘thumb’.
Next I uncurled his index finger and placed its tip on D. He pressed the note.
‘Second finger,’ I sang.
And so we continued with his third, fourth and little fingers, before coming back
down to the thumb. He sang along enthusiastically, and couldn’t resist adding in an
accompaniment below. When we swapped over to his left hand, he treated the five-finger
exercise like a bass-line, and added tunes in the right. No matter, I thought. The main thing
was that, for the first time in his life, he’d manage to play using something approaching a
conventional technique. On that simplest of foundations we would subsequently be able
to build.
Little did I appreciate at the time just how long Derek’s technique would take to
reconstruct. For a total of eight years we worked together, weekly and then daily, spending
hundreds of hours physically going over all the basic fingering patterns that make up
a professional pianist’s stock-in-trade. From five-finger exercises we moved on to full
scales: major, minor and chromatic, as well as some of the more exotic varieties – the so-
called ‘modals’, the whole-tones and the octatonics. Scales had the additional complexity
of requiring Derek to tuck his thumb under his fingers while his hand was travelling
in one direction, and to extend his fingers over his thumb while it was coming back in
the other. I had to use both my hands to help him get this action right. We also tackled
arpeggios: major, minor, and dominant and diminished sevenths, followed by some of the
more unusual forms – French sevenths, augmented triads and chords of the added sixth.
Long after my threshold of boredom was a distant memory, Derek would be keen for
more. There was something about the orderliness, not only of the scales and arpeggios
themselves, but also the regular way in which they related to one another, that he clearly
found deeply satisfying.
However, in spite of the tens – perhaps hundreds – of thousands of willing repetitions,
Derek never did learn to tell which finger was which! And even today, if you ask him to
hold his thumb up (rather than his fingers), he still can’t do it reliably, and the capacity
to distinguish one hand from the other continues to elude him. While this seems odd –
incredible, even – given his dazzling virtuosity, with hindsight I’ve come to realise that
being able to put a name to concepts such as ‘left’ and ‘right’ wasn’t the most important
thing. What really mattered was achieving that very first aim I identified when I initially
watched Derek play: that his technique should develop sufficiently so as not trammel his
vivid aural imagination. And that, over the years, is exactly what did happen. During all
those hundreds of hours of practice he absorbed many of the standard fingering patterns,
quite without being aware of it, and these slowly became assimilated into his own playing.
Today his technique, as a mature adult performer, although still far from conventional,
enables him to do whatever his musical imagination demands.
Through a Glass, Vividly 163
Children on the autism spectrum can perform with others more or less successfully, according
to their levels of musical, cognitive and social development. They may show varying
degrees of sensitivity to the fluctuating dynamics of a performing group. Some may be able
to conceptualise and assume distinct roles; at different times consciously accompanying,
for example, or taking the lead. The individuality of some young people may mean that
they will always be more suited to solo performance. The greatest challenge in ensembles
may be working together and making decisions using little or no language. Even relatively
straightforward instructions such as ‘play the final chorus twice’ may have to be conveyed in
purely musical terms. For example, an additional dominant seventh harmony may indicate
that more is to come, whereas a slight slowing may show that the end is approaching:
Working with a large group of children who couldn’t see, many of whom had complex
needs, presented a number of challenges for teacher and pupils alike. Clearly, conducting
was out of the question, so starting and stopping, slowing down and speeding up, and
making expressive changes or effects such as getting louder or softer had to be co-
ordinated non-visually: through sound, using speech or musical cues. As I soon discovered,
calling out what was required was disruptive, and in any case spoken instructions meant
little to several of the children, including Derek, on account of their learning difficulties.
So, during a performance, the direction of the group had to come solely through inflections
in the piano part, to which the children learnt to listen very attentively. For example, if a
verse were to be sung sadly, then the accompaniment might reflect this through a reduction
in tempo and dynamics and, perhaps, by moving to the ‘minor’ key. Conversely, the return
to a happy state could be conveyed through an increase in movement, loudness and the use
of ‘major’ chords. It was even possible to communicate a sense of irony, which could be
appreciated by some of the older and more able pupils, by juxtaposing different pieces with
contrasting connotations together – for example, by playing fragments of Day oh! while
the children were singing Morning has broken.
The accompaniment could relay simpler messages too. For instance, if a chorus were
to be repeated at the end, this could be signalled through particular chords that suggested
there was more to come. From time to time I would link songs together by improvising
a ‘bridge’ between them. Musically, this would borrow material from the first piece and
incrementally transform it into the introduction to the second, so it gradually became
apparent what this was to be. Sometimes the children would compete to see who could
name the upcoming tune first. If things were becoming too straightforward, I would tease
them by appearing to set off in a certain direction only to change course at the last moment.
Increasingly, I was able to hold their attention by linking a whole sequence of pieces in this
way. Indeed, I came to the conclusion that the most effective lessons were those in which
there was little or no talking, and that the more one could teach music through music
the better.
For those supporting autistic children, playing in concerts is likely to raise a number of
practical questions, such as attendance at rehearsals, setting up instruments and behaving
appropriately on stage. It is essential that these areas of potential concern are acknowledged
in good time and adequately addressed. Other issues, such as facing the audience, learning
not to move excessively while playing, and receiving applause appropriately may need
special consideration – and rehearsal – too. A child with severe learning difficulties may
find it far more difficult to raise or lower the piano stool than to play the instrument once
seated! Here is an account of Derek’s first public performance, aged eight:
164 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
He was rocking slowly on the piano stool, his fingers fidgeting in readiness for their
forthcoming workout. He smiled when he heard his name, and sat still for a moment to
give his full attention to what Miss Lingard was saying.
‘… and now he’s going to play the Streets of London.’
Derek’s smile widened into a broad beam that stretched right across his face. This
was the moment that he’d been waiting for.
I decided to assert my authority straight away – and to keep Derek on his toes – by
beginning in E flat major, a key in which he had not, as far as I could remember, ever
played the song. I couldn’t think of another child (except, perhaps, Philip) for whom
such an act wouldn’t have had disastrous consequences. But for Derek, the unusual was
commonplace, and I had complete faith in his ability to follow me. My confidence was
well-founded, and before the opening chord had faded away he was there alongside me, as
though it were the most natural thing in the world to play a piece in an unfamiliar key
before his first ever public audience. The hundreds of hours that we had spent practising
all conceivable scales and arpeggios had refined his raw capacity to realise his entire
repertoire starting on any note, and he was now equally at home playing pieces in any
key – rather like being able to speak twelve languages with native fluency.
I led Derek resolutely through the first verse and chorus of the Streets of London and
he obediently followed. I was longing to let him go in order to see just where his musical
imagination, fired up by the excitement of the occasion, would take us, and as soon as
I judged it was prudent to do so – towards the end of verse two – I gradually retreated
into the background with a series of sotto voce chords. The instant that he sensed my
musical grip was released, Derek was off, scampering up the octave with a series of broken
chords. Up and up he took the music, ascending into higher and higher realms of musical
invention. Just when it seemed as though he was going to run out of notes at the end of
the keyboard, he came scurrying down in a series of tumbling scales and rejoined me in
the middle register. Seizing my opportunity, I took the lead again and introduced a new
syncopated rhythm in the bass. Without a moment’s hesitation, his left hand too started
skipping along to the new beat before he broke free once more, dancing out of my reach.
And so our pas de deux continued for a few minutes, until it felt appropriate to draw
matters to a close, before Derek ran out of steam and his perambulations became repetitive.
An almost imperceptible reduction in the pace of my accompaniment signalled that it was
time to wind things up, and he fell back into step with a series of expansive chords that
served as an effective climax to the piece. He held on to the last fortissimo cluster of notes
waiting for me to lift my hands up first, and then he couldn’t resist his trademark final
plonk low down in the left hand.
The audience burst into rapturous applause – this was quite unlike anything they’d
ever seen or heard before. There were shouts of ‘Well done, Derek!’ He was quivering with
excitement, his face radiant, his hands alternately clapping and flapping energetically at
his sides. I looked across at Nanny. She too was applauding vigorously, her eyes shining
with pride. I felt relieved, delighted and (I had to admit) vindicated. From somewhere,
Derek seemed to have acquired the instincts of a natural performer: a sense of occasion
and the capacity to rise to it, the ability to communicate with an audience and a feeling
of exhilaration when his playing was acknowledged. These were things that could not
be taught, but with them, Derek’s playing had the potential to reach heights that were as
yet unexplored.
Through a Glass, Vividly 165
Conclusion
In this chapter we have explored some of the extraordinary musical journeys of young
children with autism, and how the exceptional early cognitive environment that typically
poses challenges in terms of communication and socialisation may also offer advantages
in terms of auditory perception and the processing of musical structure. The key thing is
that children on the autism spectrum are given the opportunities to explore their musical
interests and to fulfil their musical potential, whatever that may be, since such achievements
are likely not only to be intrinsically satisfying and to promote well-being in their own right,
but may well also promote the very communication and social skills whose development
the children’s autism initially inhibited. That is, education in music and education through
music are both likely to be essential ingredients in the pedagogical mix.
As the examples in this chapter illustrate, if there is a golden rule in working with
children with autism, it is that there are no golden rules! I remain suspicious of any system
or approach that claims to offer the best for all, or even the majority, of children, since the
spectrum of their abilities, needs, propensities, motivations, likes and dislikes is so wide.
That is not say, of course, that teachers should not in time develop longer-term aims (taking
into account the views of parents and other significant figures in a child’s life), and have
to hand a battery of potential strategies (at least some of which will hopefully be tried and
tested in other contexts) to support the child in moving forward. But to approach music
education with a severely autistic youngster with a more or less fixed plan is likely to be a
frustrating experience for all concerned. Indeed, it may do more harm than good.
So what approach should teachers take? Above all, listen, listen … and listen again.
Open your ears to whatever children do, whether exploring or playing the instrument that
they have chosen (or have been presented with), or vocalising, or moving. They may even
seem to do nothing at all, or they may engage in apparently random behaviours. I am
convinced, however, that everything a child does (or fails to do) occurs (or fails to occur)
for a reason. So be sensitive; be empathetic.
Having said there are no golden rules, I am about to make an exception: *don’t talk
too much* (if at all)! Language is so often a barrier or, worse, a threat or, at best, auditory
clutter. (Be prepared, though, to listen carefully to anything the child may choose to say
to you.) Save verbal interaction for the parents, after the lesson – which, unless there are
exceptional circumstances, I believe they should attend. The relationship you may develop
with their child through mutual, enjoyable musical engagement is far too precious to keep
to yourself. It must be seen as a stepping-stone to a wider and hopefully deeper, purposeful
connection with others.
References
Baron-Cohen, S., Leslie, A. & Frith, U. (1985). Does the autistic child have a ‘theory of
mind’?. Cognition, 21(1), 37–46.
Bondy, A. & Frost, L. (2011). A picture’s worth: PECS and other visual communication
strategies in autism (2nd ed.), Bethseda, MD: Woodbine House, Inc.
Boucher, J. (2009). The autistic spectrum: Characteristics, causes and practical issues.
London: Sage Publications Ltd.
Dale, N. & Salt, A. (2008). Social identity, autism and visual impairment (VI) in the early
years. British Journal of Visual Impairment, 26(2), 135–46.
Emanuele, E., Boso, M., Cassola, F., Broglia, D., Bonoldi, I., Mancini, L., Marini,
M. & Politi, P. (2009). Increased dopamine DRD4 receptor and mRNA expression
in lymphocytes of musicians and autistic individuals: bridging the music-autism
connection. Activitas Nervosa Superior Rediviva, 51(3–4), 142–5.
Frith, U. (2001). Mind blindness and the brain in autism. Neuron, 32(6), 969–79.
Frith, U. (2003) Autism: Explaining the enigma (2nd ed.). Oxford: Blackwell Publishing.
Frith, U. & Happé, F. (1994). Autism: Beyond ‘theory of mind’. Cognition, 50(1–3), 115–32.
Gaver, (1993). What in the world do we hear? An ecological approach to auditory event
perception. Ecological Psychology, 5(1), 1–29.
Happé, F. (1995). Autism: An introduction to psychological theory. London: UCL Press Ltd.
Happé, F. (1996). Studying weak central coherence at low levels: Children with
autism do not succumb to visual illusions, Journal of Child Psychology and
Psychiatry, 37(7), 873–7.
Happé, F. & Booth, R. (2008). The power of the positive: Revisiting weak coherence in
autism spectrum disorders. The Quarterly Journal of Experimental Psychology, Special
Issue: A Festschrift for Uta Frith, 61(1), 50–63.
Hill, E. (2004). Executive dysfunction in autism. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 8(1), 26–32.
Hobson, P. (1993). Autism and the development of mind. Hove, East Sussex: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates.
Hobson, P. & Lee, A. (2010). Reversible autism among congenitally blind children? A
controlled follow-up study. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 51(11), 1235–41.
Kayzer, W. (1995) Vertrouwd en a zo Vreemd: Over Geheugen en Bewustzijn. Amsterdam:
Uitgeverij Contact.
Lamont, A. (2008). Young children’s musical worlds: Musical engagement in 3.5-year-olds.
Journal of Early Childhood Research, 6(3), 247–62.
Miller, L. (1989). Musical savants: Exceptional skill in the mentally retarded. Hillsdale,
NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Miller, O. & Ockelford, A. (2005). Visual needs. London and New York: Continuum.
Molnar-Szakacs, I. & Heaton, P. (2012). Music: A unique window into the world of
autism. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, The Neurosciences and Music
IV, Learning and Memory, 1(252), 318–24.
Ockelford, A. (1999). The cognition of order in music: A metacognitive study. London:
Roehampton Institute.
Ockelford, A. (2005a). Repetition in music: Theoretical and metatheoretical perspectives.
London: Ashgate.
Ockelford, A. (2005b). Relating musical structure and content to aesthetic response: A
model and analysis of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata Op. 110. Journal of the Royal Musical
Association, 130(1), 74–118.
Ockelford, A. (2007). In the key of genius: The extraordinary life of Derek Paravicini.
London: Hutchinson.
168 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Background
1
the project’s resultant evidence base contained data that was complementary to the separate
royal college of Music longitudinal tlrP study of Western classical music, Learning to Perform
(http://www.tlrp.org/proj/phase111/L2P.htm). Common topic areas included findings on transition, the
nature of musical expertise, learning with others and the role of teaching in learning.
2
The Higher Education Statistics agency currently identifies 37 different sub-categories for
study within music courses available in the uK (retrieved 10 May 2012 from http://www.hesa.ac.uk/
dox/datacoll/jacs3/Music_dance_and_drama.pdf).
172 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
undergraduates. A varied range of courses is on offer, such as exampled across the n=9
specialist HE music colleges/conservatoires that offer programmes of study in Western
classical, jazz, popular and traditional musics, as well as other music-related studies in
topics such as music technology and musical theatre. Across the world, many different
musics and ‘musical worlds’ co-exist, suggesting that musicians across these varied genres
are likely to have a diverse range of experiences (Green, 2001; O’Neill & Green, 2004;
Walker, 2007). However, most theories of professional musician’s development tended
to have been based on the researched experiences of Western classical musicians (e.g.,
Bloom, 1985; Sosniak, 1985, 1990; Manturzewska, 1990; Ericsson & Smith, 1991),
although there is awareness that some aspects of lifelong learning can transcend genre
(Smilde, 2012). At the time of the initiation of the IMP project, much less was known about
the musical development and learning of musicians in other-than-classical musical genres,
such as pop, jazz and folk (cf. Sloboda, 2000).
The IMP research was underpinned by theoretical strands and related constructs
that clustered under three broad headings: (i) developmental theories (generic and
specific to music) (e.g., Bronfenbrenner & Ceci, 1994; Hargreaves et al., 2002;
Welch, 2006); (ii) activity and processes that were framed by membership of social groups
(Engeström, 2001; Nielsen, 2006; Welch, 2007); and (iii) learning (generic and specific
to music; generic and specific to higher education) (e.g., BERA Music Education Review
Group, 2004; Eraut, 2004; Entwistle, 2007).
A basic tenet underlying the IMP research was that musical learning involves development,
both in relation to neuropsychobiological design (the hard-wired integration of nervous,
endocrine and immune systems) and the biography of the human individual (e.g.,
Hodges & Gruhn, 2012; Pert, 1986; 1998; Thurman, 2000; Welch, 2001), and also as
shaped by interaction within an interrelated, socio-ecologically nested system (e.g.,
Bronfenbrenner, 1979, 2005; Welch, 2006). As humans, we find subjective meaning and
pleasure in the patterned organization of sound and silence that we label as ‘‘music” and
we are capable of exhibiting a wide range of musical behaviors, whether as producers
or receivers (cf. Zatorre & Peretz, 2001; BERA Music Education Review Group, 2001;
Peretz & Zatorre, 2003). Musicality is not an option; it is part of our human design (e.g.,
Koelsch, Gunter, Friederici, & Schröger, 2000; Avanzini et al., 2005), whether there is
normal neuropsychobiological functioning or extreme functional disorder, such as within
profound and multiple learning disabilities (Ockelford et al., 2002; Welch et al., 2009).
Musical behaviors do not occur in a vacuum. They are the product of a complex
interaction between biological, developmental, and environmental factors over time. The
nature of this interaction is not uniform across the species because of relative differences
and biases arising from the interface and shaping of our basic neuropsychobiology by
experience, sociocultural imperatives and maturational processes (Altenmüller, 2004). As a
result, particular musical behaviors may be more or less developed. Consequently, we are
likely to exhibit a musical profile that is both relatively unique and peculiar to the individual,
while having some commonality with others of a similar sociocultural background, age and
experience (Welch, 2006).
How Do Musicians Develop Their Learning about Performance? 173
One of the features of virtually all contemporary cultures is the wide diversity of musics
that are practised and enjoyed by different groups within the local populations. The ubiquity
and diversity of musical behaviour – of our ability to find meaning in the organisation of
sound – appears to be characteristic of the human condition (e.g., Cross, 2005). Educational
and psychological research suggests a symbiotic link between musical learning and the
formation of musical identities (the role of music in defining who we are – ‘music in
identity’, as well as the nature of our individual relationships with certain kinds of music –
‘identity in music’ (Hargreaves, et al., 2002)). Both musical learning and identity are shaped
by developmental experiences in various socio-cultural contexts across the lifespan
(cf. Welch, 2006; 2007).
The contextual layers that frame musical development embrace a process in which
musical behaviours (whether as consumer or producer) are mediated by, and inform, social
activity, whether in the home (Trevarthen, 2002; McPherson & Davidson, 2002), nursery
school (Young, 2002), secondary school (Spence, 2006) or in the urban environment
(cf. Krims, 2007).
(iii) Learning (Generic and Specific to Music; Generic and Specific to Higher Education)
A substantial body of empirical evidence suggests that, from the earliest months of life,
the acquisition of musical expertise is influenced by an interactive process between
neuropsychobiological potential, enculturation and specific sonic and musical experiences
(for comprehensive reviews, see Hallam, 2006, pp. 29–43; Welch, 2006; McPherson, 2006).
Feltovich, Prietula and Ericsson (2006) argue that the development of expertise depends on
obtaining extensive skills, as well as appropriate knowledge and mechanisms that monitor
and control cognitive processes in order to be able to perform a set of tasks both efficiently
and effectively. Expertise development theories (e.g., Ericsson, 1996) tend to have been
based on the expertise development of classical3 musicians and suggest that (i) expertise
encompasses a process of development that normally spans many years; (ii) that formal
instruction, practice and parental support are very important for expertise development
and (iii) the longer a person engages in musical activities, the more expert they are likely
to become as performers, assuming that they pass through a series of developmental
phases successfully.
Research in higher education suggests that a relationship exists between students’
approaches to learning and perceptions of the learning environment (e.g., Ramsden and
Entwistle 1981; Entwistle & Ramsden 1983; Trigwell & Prosser 1991). Lizzio, Wilson and
Simons (2002) argue that positive perceptions of the teaching environment directly influence
academic achievement, as well as qualitative learning outcomes. As reported earlier,
Entwistle (2007) conceptualised higher education learning as an interactive system, within
which the quality of learning achieved is seen as being the product of interactions between
(a) students’ backgrounds, abilities, conceptions, knowledge and aspirations, (b) approaches
to learning and studying and (c) perceptions of the teaching-learning environment.
3
The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary (2005) defines classical music as ‘of, relating to, or
being music in the educated European tradition that includes such forms as art song, chamber music,
opera, and symphony as distinguished from folk or popular music or jazz’.
174 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Objectives
The aim of the IMP project was to investigate how classical, popular and jazz musicians
and performers of Scottish traditional music deepen and develop their learning about
performance in undergraduate, postgraduate and wider music community contexts.
Six research questions underpinned the research:
1. How do classical, popular and jazz musicians and performers of Scottish traditional
music deepen and develop their learning about performance in undergraduate,
postgraduate and wider music community contexts?
2. Does this learning (knowledge, skills and understanding) change over time during
their studies and, if so, how and why?
3. Does this learning change post-graduation and, if so, how and why?
4. In what ways do professional performers (students and tutors) report that their
performance is affected through any experience that they might have of teaching?
5. What are the strengths and weaknesses of current learning to perform practices?
6. What can the data say about the theory of how expertise develops within, as well
as beyond, music?
4
One ethnomusicological study of South Asian music in the UK, for example, found 45 different
types of music being practiced, related to classical and popular music traditions, and interfaced with
particular geographical locations, communities, languages and generations (Farrell et al., 2005).
How Do Musicians Develop Their Learning about Performance? 175
Methods
• Musical biographies (e.g., variables related to the effects of age, sex, musical genre,
instrumental type, experience);
• Psychological and social-psychological issues related to performance (e.g.,
performance anxiety, self-esteem, self-efficacy, musical identity, and the
development of expertise), including an application of aspects of expertise theory
and self-theories; and
• Attitudes to learning (e.g., practice behaviours, views on teaching – ideal versus
personal experience) and the social and environmental contexts for learning.
Respondents to Survey 1 were 244 musicians, who included 170 undergraduates (70%
of participants) and 74 portfolio career musicians, self-reported as following an active
performing and teaching career (30% of participants). 55% of the participants were male
and 45% were female. Just under half (48%) of participants had a Western classical music
background. These were complemented by musicians whose expertise was in popular
(27%), jazz (18%) and Scottish traditional (7%) musics.
Respondents to Survey 2 (approximately 12 months after) were 87 musicians from
Survey 1. These included 59 undergraduates (68% of participants) and 28 portfolio career
musicians (32% of participants). 53% of the participants were male and 47% were female.
All survey data were analysed using SPSS.
In addition, in-depth information was obtained from semi-structured interviews with 27
selected case studies. These specialised in a wide range of instruments, including strings,
woodwind, brass, piano/keyboard, voice, bass guitar, percussion, Scottish pipes and
clarsach. Case study participants were selected on the basis of ensuring a representative
range of experiences and backgrounds from those who had completed the questionnaire
survey. The interviews focused on a range of issues related to each musician’s personal
development and experiences. Questions were clustered under overarching themes that
embraced early influences on their musical development, self-efficacy and confidence as
performers, reflections on performance experiences, the occurrence and possible influence
of performance anxiety, the influence of the institution on learning, their thoughts on the
process of transition from student to professional, any experiences of teaching and, finally,
their experiences and views regarding formal and informal learning in music. Resultant
data were analysed using NVivo. Complementary data were also obtained from focus
groups (n = 8), participant email diaries and digital video analyses of studio-based HEI
instrumental lessons (n = 9). All data collection activities were subject to ethical approval
in line with guidance from the British Educational Research Association (BERA, 2004).
176 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Findings from the project can be clustered under two themes, namely the effects of group
membership and development and learning. The main findings under each theme, as well
as details of relevant publications where more details can be found are discussed below.
(jazz and popular music in particular), especially in solo performances. This indicates that
the specific performance context can influence musicians’ perceptions and efficiency to
cope with the demands of performance. The formality of the context within which classical
musicians operate perhaps contributes to the creation of additional perceptions of pressure
and, subsequently, increasing anxiety levels.
Nevertheless, despite some differences in perceptions as discussed above, a common
observation was that musicians across all musical genres evidenced a very strong musical
identity, with their ‘musician self’ forming a core component of their overall sense of
identity (Welch et al., 2008a). This was a key positive finding from the study, signifying a
shared deep love for music and a common motivation towards being successful.
5
Similarly, researches in the domains of expert chess playing, physics and music have reported
that experts can often miscalibrate their capabilities by being overly confident (see Chi, 2006).
178 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Musicians’ perceptions of expertise and self-efficacy improved with age and experience
(Papageorgi et al., 2010a). Portfolio musicians, overall, rated their performance skills and
quality higher compared to undergraduates. As musicians mature, they develop and gain
more experience professionally, their internal standards of what constitutes an effective
musician becomes elevated, but – at the same time – they also appear to be more confident
and develop musically, as they rate themselves higher in key musical skills.6
Although we had initially observed a gap between musicians’ ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’
musical skills, it was encouraging that over time, musicians appeared to become more
realistic about their ability to achieve ‘ideal’ musical skills (Papageorgi, Creech &
Welch, 2008). This positive outcome was evidenced as the observed gap between
musicians’ ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’ level of skill (Papageorgi et al., 2010a) decreased over
time, potentially due to them gaining more experience and perhaps more realism about
what is possible ‘ideally’. Additionally, as undergraduate musicians came towards the end
of their studies, their attitudes seem to converge with those of established professionals (no
differences found) as, in Survey 1, undergraduates had evidenced a significantly larger gap
between ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’ skills compared to portfolio musicians.
One of the factors that impedes development, and one of the most frequently reported
problems, is musical performance anxiety (MPA). We found that MPA was a common
experience amongst all performing musicians, especially in solo and small group contexts.
Both female and Western classical performers reported higher distress levels. We found
that MPA level tended to be higher immediately prior to a performance, but reduced once
it began. A similar pattern of performance arousal has been described in the literature
(Salmon et al., 1989) to facilitate optimal performance, which was a positive finding.
The impacts of MPA relate to its perceived severity during performance, but are mediated
by musicians’ performance experience, their susceptibility to anxiety and their coping
strategies (Papageorgi, 2007; Papageorgi, 2008; Papageorgi, Creech & Welch, 2013). The
data suggest that strategies for coping with the demands of performance are often person-
and performance-specific, because individuals’ performance anxiety thresholds vary within
different performance contexts. Our research indicates that experiencing MPA is normal –
what matters is how individuals learn to deal with it and the role of peers/tutors/colleagues/
course designers in the support process. For example, techniques focusing on modifying
people’s perceptions and facilitating a positive mindset, such as cognitive behavioural
therapy and positive self-talk can be particularly useful for musicians (Clark & Agras, 1991;
Brugues, 2011).
The learning environment was identified as an important factor affecting student
learning and development. By learning environment we mean both the physical space, as
well as the learning community/culture within the HEI institutions.
With respect to the physical environment, literal, pedagogical and informal ‘spaces
of learning’ were identified within the HEI environment (such as at the Royal Scottish
Academy of Music and Drama) (see Chapter 12 of this volume). Literal spaces were critical
in what, and with whom, students learnt; pedagogical style determined relative boundaries
and restrictions placed on the learning ‘map’; informal spaces supported group music
making and enabled students to listen to their fellow students playing, to be creative in
arranging music, learn ‘by ear’ and play in diverse social contexts.
6
The latter finding is in line with existing theories of expertise development, e.g., Bloom, 1985;
Sosniak, 1985, 1990; Manturzewska, 1990; Ericsson & Smith, 1991; Ericsson, 1996.
180 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
7
This is in line with research in other higher education settings, suggesting that perceptions
of the learning environment influence students’ approaches to studying – see Lizzio, Wilson &
Simons, 2002.
8
This corroborates findings from other studies that state that generic academic and workplace
skills are perceived to be best developed in learning environments characterised by good teaching and
independence (see Lizzio, Wilson & Simons, 2002).
How Do Musicians Develop Their Learning about Performance? 181
Conclusion
Critical reflection on the IMP data suggests that there is an empirically based argument
for curricular innovation that seeks to promote multi-genre musical expertise and rounded
performance excellence. Arguably, such an approach would (a) provide a foundation for
achieving a more creative and fruitful symbiosis between diverse musical understandings;
(b) support greater collaboration between musicians of different communities and
educational backgrounds; and (c) ensure that any potential interferences to learning and
development that arise from the inherent characteristics of a particular group membership
(such as musical genre or gender) were systematically addressed. As such, HE/FE music
departments should aim to promote a more holistic view of what constitutes a musician
and provide many and varied opportunities for different kinds of performance engagement
and cross-genre collaborations. They should also encourage teaching staff to be active
and accessible and encourage students to network and build professional contacts, thus
supporting their students’ transition into a professional career. Learners should be
encouraged to appreciate the value of, and be open to, cross-genre collaborations. They
should also take initiatives to form and work in small groups, as well as to seek and offer
peer support in coping with the challenges of performance.
182 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
References
Koelsch, S., Gunter, T., Friederici, A.D., & Schröger, E. (2000). Brain indices of music
processing: ‘Nonmusicians’ are musical. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, 12, 520–41.
Krims, A. (2007). Music and urban geography. London: Routledge.
Lizzio, A. K. Wilson, & R. Simons (2002). University students’ perceptions of the learning
and environment and academic outcomes: Implications for theory and practice. Studies
in Higher Education, 27(1), 27–52.
Manturzewska, M. (1990). A biographical study of the life-span development of professional
musicians. Psychology of Music, 18(2), 112–39.
McPherson, G.E. (2006). The child as musician. New York: Oxford University Press.
McPherson, G.E., & Davidson, J. W. (2002). Musical practice: Mother and child interactions
during the first year of learning an instrument. Music Education Research, 4, 143–58.
Meister, I. G., Krings, T., Foltys, H., Boroojerdi, B., Muller, M., Topper, R. & Thron,
A. (2004). Playing piano in the mind—an fMRI study on music imagery and
performance in pianists. Cognitive Brain Research, 19, 219–28.
Morton, F., Duffy, C., Haddon, E., Potter, J., de Bézenac, C., Bates, A., Creech, A.,
Papageorgi, I., Welch, G. & Whyton, T. (ms submitted for publication). Spaces of
learning and the place of the conservatoire in Scottish music: A case study of the Royal
Scottish Academy of Music and Drama.
Nielsen, K. (2006). Apprenticeship at the Academy of Music. International Journal of
Education and the Arts, 7(4). Retrieved from http://www.ijea.org/v7n4/v7n4.pdf.
Ockelford, A., Welch, G.F. & Zimmermann, S.-A. (2002). Music education for pupils with
severe or profound and multiple difficulties – current provision and future need. British
Journal of Special Education, 29(4), 178–82.
O’Neill, S., & Green, L. (2004). Social groups and research in music education. Psychology
of Music, 32(3), 252–8.
Pajares, F. (2002). Gender and perceived self-efficacy in self-regulated learning. Theory
into Practice, 41(2), 116–25.
PALATINE [Performing Arts Learning and Teaching Innovation Network] (2008).
Universities, colleges and specialist institutions offering HE music. Retrieved from
http://www.palatine.ac.uk/about/he_music/ 14 October 2008.
Papageorgi, I. (2007). The influence of the wider context of learning, gender, age and
individual differences on adolescent musicians’ performance anxiety. Proceedings
of the International Symposium on Performance Science (ISPS), Porto, Portugal,
November 2007.
Papageorgi, I. (2008) Investigating musical performance: Performance anxiety across
musical genres. TLRP: Teaching and Learning Research Briefing, November 2008.
Papageorgi, I., & Creech, A. (2006) Investigating Musical Performance: A comparative
investigation of classical and non-classical musicians’ approach to teaching and
learning. ESRC TLRP Annual Conference, Glasgow, UK (20–22 November 2006).
Papageorgi, I., Creech, A. & Welch, G. (2008). Investigating Musical Performance: A
longitudinal comparison of advanced musical learners’ attitudes and perceptions
towards musical skills. Symposium paper at the 10th International Conference of Music
Perception and Cognition (ICMPC10). Sapporo, Japan (25–29 August 2008).
Papageorgi, I., Creech, A. & Welch, G. (2013). Perceived performance anxiety in advanced
musicians specializing in different musical genres. Psychology of Music, 41(1), 18–41.
Papageorgi, I., Creech, A., Duffy, C., Potter, J., Whyton, T., Morton, F., Haddon, L., de
Bezenac, C., Himonides, E. & Welch, G. F. (2010a). Perceptions and predictions of
expertise in advanced musical learners. Psychology of Music, 38(1), 31–66.
How Do Musicians Develop Their Learning about Performance? 185
Papageorgi, I., Haddon, E., Creech, A., Morton, F., de Bézenac, C., Himonides, E., Potter,
J., Duffy, C., Whyton, T. & Welch, G. (2010b). Institutional culture and learning I: Inter-
relationships between perceptions of the learning environment and undergraduate
musicians’ attitudes to learning. Music Education Research, 12(2), 151–78.
Papageorgi, I., Haddon, E., Creech, A., Morton, F., de Bézenac, C., Himonides, E., Potter, J.,
Duffy, C., Whyton, T. & Welch, G. (2010c). Institutional culture and learning II: Inter-
relationships between perceptions of the learning environment and undergraduate
musicians attitudes to performance. Music Education Research, 12(4), 427–46.
Peretz, I. & Zatorre, R. J. (Eds), (2003). The cognitive neuroscience of music. New York:
Oxford University Press.
Pert, C. (1986). The wisdom of the receptors: Neuropeptides, the emotions and bodymind.
Advances, 3(3), 8–16.
Pert, C. (1998). Molecules of emotion. London: Simon & Schuster.
Ramsden, P. N. & Entwistle, J. (1981). Effects of academic departments on students’
approaches to studying. British Journal of Educational Psychology, 51, 368–83.
Roberts, B. A. (1991). A place to play: The social world of university schools of music.
St. John’s, Newfoundland: Memorial University of Newfoundland.
Salmon, P., Schrodt, R. and Wright, J. (1989). A temporal gradient of anxiety in a stressful
performance context. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 4(2), 77–80.
Sloboda, J.A. 2000. Individual differences in music performance. Trends in Cognitive
Sciences, 4(10), 397–403.
Smilde, R. (2012). Lifelong learning for professional musicians. In G. McPherson &
G. F. Welch (Eds) The Oxford handbook of music education. Volume II (pp. 289–302).
New York: Oxford University Press.
Sosniak, L. A. (1985). Learning to be a concert pianist. In B. S. Bloom (Ed.), Developing
talent in young people (pp. 19–67). New York: Ballantine.
Sosniak, L. A. (1990). The tortoise and the hare and the development of talent. In
M. J. A. Howe (Ed.), Encouraging the development of exceptional skills and talents
(pp. 149–64). Leicester: British Psychological Society.
Spence. S. (2006). Black Caribbean children and school music: Expectation and
achievement. NAME Magazine, 18, 12–15.
Thurman, L. (2000). Human-compatible learning. In L. Thurman, & G. F. Welch (Eds),
Bodymind and voice: Foundations of voice education. (pp. 188–300). Iowa: National
Center for Voice and Speech.
Trevarthen, C. (2002). Origins of musical identity: Evidence from infancy for musical
social awareness. In R. MacDonald, D. Hargreaves & D. Miell (Eds), Musical identities.
(pp. 21–38). New York: Oxford University Press.
Trigwell, K., & Prosser, M. (1991). Improving the quality of learning: The influence of
learning context and student approaches to learning on learning outcomes. Higher
Education, 22, 251–66.
Walker, R. (2007). Music education: Cultural values, social change and innovation.
Springfield, IL: Charles C Thomas.
Welch, G. F. (2001). The misunderstanding of music. London: University of London
Institute of Education.
Welch, G. F. (2006). The musical development and education of young children. In
B. Spodek & O. Saracho (Eds), Handbook of research on the education of young
children (pp. 251–67). Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates Inc.
186 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
frances Morton
Introduction
this chapter investigates the spaces, times and techniques of how undergraduate students
at the royal conservatoire of scotland learn how to perform scottish traditional music.
The purpose of the chapter is twofold: firstly, to demonstrate that the injection of a different
type of music (scottish traditional) to an institution which historically has catered for the
Western classical art form, creates challenges and opportunities for the students concerned;
and secondly, to highlight that the place of scottish music in the conservatoire (as opposed
to in informal, community-based contexts) means there are inevitable changes to the ways
in which scottish music is learnt and performed.
this chapter reveals that scottish traditional music students can create unique places
and times of learning within the conservatoire, in the actual physical spaces of the building
and in the contours of their own learning development landscape. Particularly, it can
be shown that Scottish music is not, and cannot be only confined to teaching within the
conservatoire context, and that students continue traditional ways of learning outside of the
formal learning environment of their course.
The chapter draws on qualitative research, specifically a sample of in-depth interviews,
undertaken at the rcs, glasgow in 2006–2007, with students specialising in scottish
music on two courses: BA (Hons) scottish Music and BA (Hons) scottish Music (Piping).
As scottish traditional musical culture is relatively un-institutionalised and informal in
its learning practices when compared to classical music (some exceptions might include
formal organisations which are cultural institutions such as the fèis movement and the
Pìobairachd society), to attend an institution dominated historically by the teaching of
Western classical music – the conservatoire – is perhaps an unusual choice of venue for
learning scottish music. indeed, scottish music, like many other types of traditional music
across the world (irish, for example) has a strong and successful method of oral and aural
transmission, of passing on songs, stories and tunes by ear. scottish music has distinct,
historical links to rural, highland and often gaelic parts of scotland, with an emphasis
on picking up music within the local community or from family members and learning
techniques and tunes by informally playing with other musicians.
the research drawn upon in this paper was conducted ten years after the implementation
of the scottish Music degree course at rcs, and so presents a timely opportunity to
consider the experiences, challenges and benefits of learning Scottish music in the
conservatoire environment.
188 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
1. What literal spaces are available for students to learn Scottish music in formal
contexts at RCS?
2. What conceptual and pedagogical spaces of learning exist within the curriculum for
Scottish music at RCS?
3. What other informal spaces are created inside and outside of the RCS that affect
Scottish music students’ learning?
The chapter is structured into six sections. Firstly, a brief review of relevant research in
music education and traditional music studies is considered as a context for the chapter.
Secondly, a brief statement on the RCS is given before outlining the methods employed
in gathering the results presented in this chapter. Thirdly, the chapter discusses the literal
spaces of learning and students’ perspectives on these. Fourthly, the chapter maps out the
conceptual terrain of students as they engage in their formal learning. This section also
draws attention to the use of pedagogies that complement traditional ways of learning
Scottish music, and illuminates some of the contours of students’ individual learning-
scapes. Fifthly, the informal learning spaces of the students are examined, and lastly the
chapter draws to a close by suggesting some key implications for teaching and learning.
Given that the thrust of this chapter is to expose the various spaces of learning that exist
in musical environments, it is therefore fitting to consider research undertaken within the
field of music education. There is a paucity of research which interrogates the spatiality
of musical learning, or which attempts to navigate the contours of learning experiences
especially within higher education environments such as the conservatoire. There is
however, a significant amount of research which uses the conservatoire as its focus for
other types of musical investigation (Odam & Bannan, 2005). In addition, and related to
the musical genre of this chapter, Scottish music has been identified as a case study for
learning practices, for example through the work by Cope (2002) on the role of social
context of traditional music in the development of self-taught musicians. When it comes
to the conservatoire, however, it is important to mention, as Cope (2002) does, that formal
instrumental tuition in the UK is dominated by the culture of Western classical music, and
so ‘almost all research into teaching and learning with musical instruments is located within
this cultural domain’ (Cope, 2002, p. 94).
Therefore it makes sense to consult research into informal music making in other
than classical genres, such as Green (2001) in popular music and Sudnow (2001) in jazz.
These studies portray ways of knowing and learning through and in performance, similar
to those found in traditional music. Exploring the spaces and times of traditional music
more generally, Morton (2005) considers the more informal and social spaces where
traditional music is performed, and the related ways of learning, knowing, being and doing
in these performances. More recently, given the performative turn within the arts and social
sciences (c.f. in geography Dewsbury, 2000; Anderson, 2005; Saldanha, 2005; Smith, 2000;
Revill, 2004); in musicology (Raffman, 1993; Small, 1998); ethnomusicology (Barz &
Spaces of Learning and the Place of the Conservatoire in Scottish Music 189
Cooley, 1997), scholars such as Thrift (1996) and Thrift & Dewsbury (2000) have explicitly
addressed the performance and practice of knowing as giving form to spaces and places,
albeit temporary and irretrievable ones. Focussing less on institutional and formal ways of
teaching and learning, Thrift’s concept of ‘knowledge-in-practice’ considers more the ways
of knowing, ways of being and ways of doing that happen in real time, through the body,
and primarily in informal registers of learning. The spaces which these ways of knowing
bring about have been outlined by Smith (2000), Morton (2005) and Wood et al. (2007), and
are useful for exactly the kinds of contexts, places and environments that can be mapped
out in the conservatoire to examine the various dynamics and contours of learning that are
played out in the RCS.
The RCS is Scotland’s national conservatoire, its mission being ‘to create in Scotland the
international centre of excellence and innovation for learning, teaching and research in
performance, in which quality of student experience in paramount’ (RCS, 2007). At the
time of writing, with around 700 students, the RCS provides undergraduate courses in
Music, Scottish Music, Piping, Acting, Contemporary Performance Practice, Technical
and Production Arts and Digital Film and Television. It also offers postgraduate studies
in Music, Opera, Conducting, Composition, Musical Theatre, Arts in Social Contexts
and doctoral programmes. The RCS also has an outreach department which provides for
over 1,600 students in over 14 centres throughout Scotland. The current RCS building was
built in 1987 and a further extension called The Alexander Gibson Opera School (AGOS)
was added in 1998.
The BA Scottish Music was set up in 1996 following a lengthy consultation and
validation period. The course was ‘the first of its kind at a UK conservatoire, training
performers of Scottish traditional music … for careers in performance and teaching’
(Miller & Duesenberry, 2007). It began as an ordinary degree in 2000 and now offers an
honours option and a piping specialism. Instruments studied are harp, fiddle, accordion,
Gaelic and Scots song, flute and pipes. The course also has a number of academic components
such as Folklore, Fieldwork Techniques, Transcription and Analysis, Technology and
Business Studies.
The chapter draws on qualitative research undertaken at the RCS, Glasgow
in 2006–2007. Students specialising in Scottish music on two courses: BA (Hons) Scottish
Music and BA (Hons) Scottish Music (Piping) participated in the research project, and the
author undertook a series of in-depth interviews with them over the course of a six-month
period. An indicative profile of the students can be seen in Table 12.1.
The interviews did not involve specific questions, but rather a series of prompts along
thematic lines such as their experiences of the conservatoire, their experiences of learning
Scottish music, their experiences of being taught and ultimately, the different ways in
which they were currently developing their learning of Scottish music performance within
and outside the conservatoire environment. The three students had contrasting musical
backgrounds, each bringing with them differing levels of skills, expertise and participation
in Scottish music to date. As a result, from the course, each student had varying expectations,
requirements, and achievements.
190 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Using Smith’s (2000) conception of ‘literal spaces’ of musical performance, this section
will consider how students territorialise areas and contexts within the building for their
own purposes of learning Scottish music. For example the students noted that the majority
of their learning was undertaken in practice rooms, rehearsal rooms, the lecture theatre and
the Guinness Room.
The rehearsal rooms in the Opera School are ideal, according to Ian, for lessons in
Scottish music. Ian claimed that the rehearsal rooms allowed more physical space suited
to discussion around learning, with the teacher. They also provide space for the group
dynamics and interaction that can often take place in classes, because such rooms are ‘a
wee bit more sort of laid back … open … there’s a wee bit more space to move about’ (Ian)
than the Lecture Theatres, which have permanent tables and seats.
The students also named the Guinness Room as another literal space suited for the
performance of Scottish Music. The students perform a formal, ticketed concert during their
degree programme, and the Guinness Room is the venue for this.
The uses of space by students of other musical genres, however, can be problematic for
Scottish music students. The students in this case study reported a sense of a hierarchy within
1
Student names have been changed for purposes of anonymity
Spaces of Learning and the Place of the Conservatoire in Scottish Music 191
I like to think the whole building is my territory, I’m a student here, you know? … I’d
like to think that I can just go anywhere in the Academy. I’ve every right to, I’m a student
here …. (Ian)
Despite feeling slightly excluded in some ways, Scottish music students still feel they
should have the right to use the literal spaces in the building. Ian in particular claims the
various public and social spaces as his territory, and robustly defends his sense of ownership
of his space. The students do not just inhabit the corridor where the main departmental
offices are situated, as they have classes in various other rooms around the building such as
opera rehearsal rooms, music practice rooms and general concert halls. However, because
these rooms are shared with students from other genres and year groups, Ian does not feel
that Scottish music students do not have permanent ownership of their designated working
areas. Instead, they have a transient performance of identity when using the working spaces,
or defending them. These issues highlight the sense of place in the RCS when spaces are
co-occupied and contested by students; it amplifies the politics of territory and the varying
degrees of belonging and identity as a Scottish Music student at RCS.
So far this chapter has looked at the literal spaces of the RCS building, some which are
particularly designed for learning, and some which students engage with for their own
purposes as and when they see fit. This section will consider the more intangible terrain of
the course, and the contours of its potential learning-scapes2 and in particular, will look at
2
This concept will use Ingold’s taskscape as a starting point. Initially developed in the work
of Heidegger the concept of dwelling allows the world to be thought of as lived rather than lived
in or lived on. The concept of the taskscape (where the habitual patterns of humans form familiar
regularities which can become landscapes or places – see Ingold, 2000; Cloke and Jones, 2001) is
192 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
the ways in which the course complements and nurtures the traditional and more informal
practices in which many (Scottish) traditional musicians usually learn. There is much scope
to consider how the placing of traditional learning methods within the institutional setting
works – here, for pedagogy and music education specifically. This involves thinking about
the broader map of musical learning within the RCS or Scottish music students, and how
the formal methods of teaching, institutional frameworks and course structures allow for
various spaces of learning and knowing to emerge.
Students reported the BA (Hons) Scottish Music as having wide-ranging content, and in
this sense, it fulfils the higher education ethic of gaining a broad perspective of the subject,
across a full spectrum of contextual areas. To get some idea of what the breadth of the
course content comprises, Fiona stated that:
The course is actually fantastic for preparing you for so many different things … it’s not
just about music … it’s about the culture and the people and the community too, because
you learn about our history and folklore and tales that came along with the music … we
also do Business Studies so that we can do our accounts …; organisational skills and
performance studies preparing you for performance; sound resources so that if you wanted
to do technical stuff you can do that, it’s so well-rounded you’ve got so many options …
And then the teaching electives prepare you to teach in a classroom if you want to do that.
With particular reference to the musical content of the course, Ian states positively:
I wouldn’t call this course a Scottish music course; I would call it a traditional music course.
Although the focus is on Scottish music, Ian does not think the course limits his knowledge
and understanding of traditional music in general. He considers it important to draw on the
various traditions which are similar to and influence Scottish music, such as Irish, English,
Breton, Galician or Asturian music. This allows a fuller understanding of Scottish music
within the diverse body of traditional musical styles that exist. In fact, Ian felt that the
advantage of not being confined solely to Scottish music in the course is the opportunity
to create a personalised musical learning profile. His specifically focuses on the history
of tunes, the social and geographical origins and contexts tunes and styles that he learns,
learning ornamentation specific to other traditions and engaging in a general appreciation
of all types of traditional and folk music. This is evident in Ian’s accounts of his solo
piping lessons, whereby he is developing conceptual spaces for learning which lack any
boundaries or limitations – institutional or musical:
… [My teacher] doesn’t really teach me how to play as such, he teaches me how to listen
and take on board everything, and he’s got the attitude of: just keep yourself musical …
you don’t necessarily have to fall into the trap of playing everything by the book …
especially when you look at collections and there’s about 5 marches, and you realise that
these marches came from songs that sound completely different … you’ve got to really
open your eyes and I think he helped me to do that a lot. If you want to classify yourself
as a musician, the way I look at it is: you’re a musician, you’re not a clone, you’re not a
robot, you’re yourself …
A sense of a space for personal development emerges here (alongside a certain sense of the
student’s individual responsibility for his/her learning), with an emphasis on encountering
and engaging with differing musical styles. Ian’s learning-scape is dynamic in its contours
and full of unexplored potential which he feels free to navigate. The notion of ‘being
musical’ rather than learning specific notation is akin to much traditional learning – which
happens with spirit and feeling (Vallely, 1999), and often in the moment of creativity
(Morton, 2005) rather than through technical perfection, which the Scottish music students
associate with Western classical music to a large extent.
The notion of being musical, rather than having to follow one fixed route is one of
the ways in which the course reflects and nurtures these more traditional ways of learning
in addition. It is important to note that formalised practices do exist, not only for quality
requirements in higher education, where teaching occurs on a regular basis and for set
periods of time, it is critical, however, that aspects of such ‘teaching’ such as musical style,
technique, repertoire and learning aurally or from notation (or both) are left to individual
tutors to teach as they wish.
The Scottish music students frequently commented upon their ability to use the space and
structure of the course to learn in a more informal manner. One example of this was through
‘group work’ classes, which aim to be akin to more traditional oral/aural methods of learning
whereby students undertake peer learning, form arrangements of pieces for performance
and allow a forum for students to creatively and collaboratively explore Scottish music.
These classes are student-led with members of staff to act as ‘facilitators. Fiona states that
because her harp is large and unwieldy, she does not often get the chance to play outside of
her course in informal pub sessions. Therefore group work allows her to ‘get together for a
tune’. Peer learning is something that Fiona and her fellow students take responsibility for
in their own time, using the institutional space of the conservatoire, as she says:
If we have an hour spare in the Academy, Ruairidh and I will go and find a practice room
and we’ll say, ‘oh I learnt this tune the other week’, and teach it to each other, and also
in group work, because there’s no tutors there, most of the time it’s informal, we learn
tunes off each other there as well, and different chord sequences and stuff like that. It’s
very informal.
Luisaidh reported that group work sessions provide a chance to extend knowledge about the
genre of Scottish music in general:
… you learn about all the different instruments and all their traditions … before I came
here, I didn’t really know an awful lot about piping. But because there [are] so many pipers
in our year, we’ve had to learn loads. And … from working with them in group work you
get to know how their instrument works and what they can and can’t do.
194 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Ian believed that one of the benefits of group work was the opportunity for an informal ‘trial
and error’ without having to follow formal procedure or being under formal instruction:
You take the set that you’re deciding to play. You listen to it, play it, go through it, and …
somebody who’s not playing and just listening, will record it. So you can look back and
listen, and you can always find something new you can do. You bridge it together better,
maybe bring together other instruments, maybe other riffs from other instruments …
better harmonies.
Another example of more traditional learning methods within the formal confines of the
course emerges from Luisaidh’s opinion of what makes a good singer. She implies the
need for overall musicality and drawing on a wide variety of sources and experiences and
also highlights the ability of the singer to reproduce a high quality of emotion in their
performance, no matter which context or venue they are singing in.
Ian speaks about how his experience of being taught on the course has changed his
perception of his previous formal learning, and his development as a traditional musician:
I was taught solely how to play in competitions, how to pull off a good march, strathspey
and reel … So I came here with that frame of mind, and I was really fussy about my
playing, but now I’ve been to the likes of different teachers when I was here, and just
talking to other people as well, all have their own different interpretation of music of what
they’re playing. And one thing that I noticed, a lot of people teach in different styles …
so they were contradicting each other. So it’s really important … you get to a certain level
and then it’s time to have your own interpretation … you pull yourself up and put your
own ideas into it.
Despite the teachers who do have a more traditional pedagogy, and can encourage students’
development, the case studies also show that more non-traditional instruction also takes
place, often with evident disadvantages. Fiona’s experience, for example, contrasted with
the notion of ‘being musical’ and developing an overall sense of musicality. During formal
instruction she experienced a learning-scape with set boundaries and fewer possibilities
to experiment. This goes against her idea of traditional learning which involves having as
a teacher:
… someone who’s going to stretch my ability … [give me] something that’s really difficult
actually. I want something that’s really hard that I can get my teeth into and I want someone
who is influenced by loads of different styles so that they can give me that.
This experience led Fiona to carve out her own learning-scape by finding an inspirational
space at the RCS within which she could experiment musically. She took advantage of a
performance which brought together both classical and traditional students. Fiona relays
the benefits of being within the institutional structure of the conservatoire in terms of
developing her own learning-scape and skills as a Scottish traditional musician:
Spaces of Learning and the Place of the Conservatoire in Scottish Music 195
You get to work with a whole variety of different people. Totally cosmopolitan in this
place, it’s fantastic … you draw on influences from all different Scottish performers, you
can also draw on influences from classical music, jazz, rock, pop and all different things,
and I really enjoyed working with some of the classical musicians.
It is also interesting to note that Fiona recognises that many Scottish music students do
not or will not work with musicians from other genres, and prefer to stay within their own
musical place within the conservatoire, as was highlighted earlier.
Thus far, the chapter has dealt with the spaces of learning that emerge in the formal
structure of the course components, in terms of lessons and classes. However, much
learning is also done outside of formal timetabling and set times and spaces. Learning in a
conservatoire environment is therefore a mix of formal and informal.
When considering how to practice and rehearse, Fiona responded that she has her own
unique way of learning outside of the institutional framework and its literal spaces:
I think there’s loads of different ways to practice, because you can practice Scottish music
by going along to a session and playing … it’s not like you’re sitting down for a practice
session, and especially for me, playing two accompaniment instruments, that’s really
important practice, because it’s [about] developing different chord ideas, and there you
can start experimenting with different chord sequences, different riffs, you can throw them
in there and it doesn’t matter what happens – if it goes wrong it doesn’t matter.
For singing, Luisaidh’s approach is speculative and unscheduled, but firmly part of the
spaces and times of her daily life:
I like to sing all the time, if I’m just … doing the dishes or something, I’ll be singing away,
practising, not thinking about it.
It was interesting to observe how much practice students undertook inside and outside of
the literal spaces of the RCS. Luisaidh believed that her learning inside and outside of the
RCS was ‘half in half’:
In my lessons [I] get a lot of material. I’ll go home, learn that, listening to CDs all the
time … I do it more with singing, not with clarsach. Most of the tunes I’d played for a long
time, on the clarsach, and I get little new stuff. I’m really bad for sitting down and learning
new tunes … at home for the clarsach. But with singing that’s what I do … that’s how I
learn most of my songs.
Fiona also commented on her need to play within the RCS building due to the size of her
clarsach, and the difficulty taking it to pubs or smaller places to perform.
Ian described exactly how he learns traditional music outside of the RCS course and
outside of the building:
196 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
I don’t think practicing helps you learn music. It just improves what you set out to do and
what you’re practicing for. But I think the best way to learn music is listening – listen to
anything you can.
The students reported that learning took place in domestic spaces. For example, as Fiona
reports, she and her flatmates often ‘go back to the flat and have a tune, where you learn
more’. The notion of learning more by ‘having a tune’ at home, rather than through lessons,
compounds the importance of developing musicality, and keeping musical, rather than
learning or perfecting specific pieces.
Students also reported that they picked up tunes and songs by ear at concerts and gigs,
thus making commercial and public places prime sites for informal learning outside of
the course. Concerts and gigs are not necessarily regular or consistent occurrences so can
provide opportunities for students to learn speculatively in real time.
The social context of traditional music performance is also a space for learning to
take place, whether actual (with people in specific situations in time and place) or virtual
(learning from media or word of mouth). Playing and networking with non-RCS musicians
in the wider traditional music scene is part of the actual social context of Scottish music,
and are seen to be important in students’ geographies of learning. These networks of
musicians (professional and non-professional) create opportunities for students to become
involved in differing learning contexts. For example, students can learn from key tradition-
bearers, in addition to formal teachers on their course, therefore benefiting also from the
non-institutional ways of learning traditional music. For example, as Luisaidh highlighted
above, she would actively seek out the songs of a singer she had seen at a concert for her
own satisfaction.
There can be a sense of belonging to community in place, bound up with the identity
of being performers of traditional music. For example, learning in a festival context – a
temporary space and time – is one which is meaningful to students. As Luisaidh reports,
she has experienced lots of different musical genres at festivals such as Celtic Connections
in Glasgow, where traditional, folk, blues, jazz and other styles of music can be heard at
the festival club.
Fiona highlights the influence of the wider, virtual musical community outside of the
RCS, using secondary sources. She believes that informal learning involves researching
music on CDs, recordings and in books and to subsequently learn from these. This involves
learning ‘by ear’ and building up her repertoire in addition to formal lesson material. It
also reinforces the notion of the informal networks and wider social context of traditional
music outside of the more formal framework of the conservatoire, especially as this kind of
informal learning practice is part of students’ general social and personal development that
they would do regardless of the benefit to their degree. Furthering this finding, Ian reports
listening and learning from CDs and other recordings enables him to interpret tunes, and
add his own nuances to develop his own musical style.
I just think it’s a really good skill to have. Once you crack it you can pick up tunes easier
and quicker … also it’s just listening to stuff by ear, picking stuff up by ear and it also
means you can … get a CD and you can pick up every tune on the CD if you listen enough.
It is evident that students adopt and actively cultivate these informal learning practices
within the institutional framework of the conservatoire, and outside in their personal
musical existence. As a result, there are evident although transient and temporary spaces of
Spaces of Learning and the Place of the Conservatoire in Scottish Music 197
learning taking place inside and outside the RCS, with specific, although perhaps intangible
moments and spaces of learning constantly taking place.
Drawing this chapter to a close, it can be concluded that there are several areas of
significance for the study of spaces of learning and the place of the conservatoire in the
provision of Scottish traditional music education. It is apparent that spaces of learning
do exist within the conservatoire environment on three counts, which were identified
formed in the three research questions posed at the start of this chapter: literal, pedagogical
and informal. This section will consider how the questions were answered throughout
the chapter.
When considering the first research question, it can be deduced that there are a number
of literal spaces available for students to learn Scottish music in formal contexts at
RCS. However, students have specific preferences for the types of spaces that they learn
in, for example, Ian prefers learning in a more informal room that can be restructured,
rather than confined within the lecture hall. It is also evident that Fiona is restricted by the
unwieldiness of her instrument, and so prefers to learn in spaces within the RCS, such as
practice rooms.
It is also evident that literal space within the conservatoire is critical factor to students,
as much as what they learn and whom they learn with. Students are acutely aware of their
place within the conservatoire and this leads them to mark their own territory out from
classical students.
In addition, students have preferences for the types of spaces that they learn in; for
example, Ian prefers learning in a more informal room that can be restructured, rather
than confined within the lecture hall. It is also evident that Fiona is restricted by the
unwieldiness of her instrument, and so prefers to learn in spaces within the RSAMD, such
as practice rooms.
The second research question asked what conceptual and pedagogical spaces of learning
existed within the curriculum for Scottish music at RCS. It is evident that a teacher’s style
of playing and instruction has a large part to play in students’ individual learning-scapes.
If a teacher can enable the student to develop according to their needs and wants, there
are fewer boundaries or restrictions placed on the learning map. An examples of where
there are set boundaries in learning was in Fiona’s teacher who provided a more rigid
model of instruction. As such, students feel the need to negotiate their individual learning
spaces in one-to-one instruction. On the course, there are informal spaces of learning, with
potential for extant and predominant methods such as learning by ear, and in differing social
situations, in particular, through the group work classes.
The third research question sought to consider exactly what such spaces were created
inside and outside of the RCS that affected Scottish music students’ learning. Students
reported that the different, more informal spaces they use allows the optimum chance
to listen to their fellow students playing, to be creative in arranging music and playing
as a group. Students also participated in informal learning networks that outside of the
institution, such as concerts, and learning from media. Learning in a more traditional
manner can therefore be achieved both inside and outside the conservatoire.
198 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Miller and Duesenberry (2007) are apposite when they question the real purpose of studying
Scottish music at the RCS, given that it is not a requirement to possess a degree in traditional
music in order to become a professional and successful traditional musician. Some would
argue that the most skilled, creative and influential musicians are those without any formal
musical instruction at all. In this regard this chapter points towards some critical areas to
consider. The spaces of learning presented here are brought about by, and given meaning
to, through the communities of practice that exist in RCS, especially those of Scottish music
students. If these communities are enhanced through the provision of teaching methods
commensurable with the Scottish music tradition, then there is much scope to investigate
further experiences of students and teacher, in order to fully inform pedagogical and music
education research agendas.
Acknowledgements
The author would particularly like to thank those at the Scottish Music Department at RCS
especially the students for their participation. For comments on this chapter, the author
would like to thank Professor Graham Welch, Dr Ioulia Papageorgi and Professor Nigel
Thrift. The usual disclaimers apply.
References
Anderson, B. (2005). Practices of judgment and domestic geographies of affect. Social and
Cultural Geography, 6, 645–60.
Barz, G. F. and Cooley T. J. (1997). Shadows in the field: New perspectives for fieldwork in
ethnomusicology. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press.
Cloke, P. and Jones, O. (2001). Dwelling, place and landscape: An orchard in Somerset.
Environment and Planning A, 33, 649–66.
Colley, H., Hodkinson, P. & Malcolm, J. (2002). Non-formal learning: Mapping the
conceptual terrain. A Consultation Report. Leeds: University of Leeds Lifelong
Learning Institute. Also available in the informal education archives: http://www.infed.
org/archives/e-texts/colley_informal_learning.htm.
Colley H., Hodkinson P. & Malcolm, J. (2003). Informality and formality in learning: A
report for the Learning and Skills Research Centre. Learning and Skills Research Centre.
Cope, P. (2002). Informal learning of musical instruments: The importance of social
context. Music Education Research, 4(1), 93–104.
Dewsbury, J. D. (2000). Performativity and the event: Enacting a philosophy of difference.
Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 18, 473–96.
Ingold, T. (2000). The Perception of the environment: Essays in livelihood, dwelling and
art. Routledge: London and New York.
Livingstone, D. W. (2001). Adults’ informal learning: Definitions, finds, gaps, and
future research: New approaches for lifelong learning (NALL). Working paper
#21-2001. Toronto: Ontario Institute for Studies in Education. Retrieved from http://
www.oise.utoronto.ca/depts/sese/csew/nall/res/21adultsifnormallearning.
htmaccessed 1 March 2002.
Spaces of Learning and the Place of the Conservatoire in Scottish Music 199
Miller, J. & Duesenberry, P. (2007). Where are they now? The first graduates of the BA
(Scottish Music) degree. Paper presented at True North presentation, Perth, July 2007.
Morton, F. (2005). Performing ethnography: Irish traditional music sessions and new
methodological spaces. Social & Cultural Geography, i(5), 661–76.
Odam, G. & Bannan, N. (2005). The reflective conservatoire: Studies in music education.
Aldershot: Ashgate and Guildhall School of Music and Drama.
Raffman, D. (1993). Language, music and mind. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Revill, G. (2004). Performing French folk music: Dance, authenticity and non-
representational theory. Cultural Geographies, 11(2), 199–209. Arnold: London.
RCS. (2007) Performance is our purpose.
Small, C. (1998). Musicking: The meanings of performance and listening. Middletown,
CT: Wesleyan University Press.
Smith, S. J. (2000). Performing the (sound) world. Environment and Planning D: Society
and Space, 18, 615–37.
Sudnow, D. (2001). Ways of the hand. A rewritten account. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Thrift, N. J. (1996). Spatial formations. New York: Sage Publications.
Thrift, N. & Dewsbury, J. D. (2000). Dead geographies – and how to make them live.
Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 18, 411–32.
Vallely, F. (1999). The companion to Irish traditional music. Cork, Ireland: Cork
University Press.
Wood, N., Duffy, M. & Smith, S. (2006). The art of doing (geographies of) music.
Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 25, 867–89.
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 13
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in
Advanced Performers
Pitch Perception
Pitch is that dimension of auditory sensation that enables sounds to be perceived as being
ordered on a scale extending from low to high (lewis, 1939). the scale of pitch is a
continuum of sensation; there are no natural breaks, demarcations, divisions or intervals
other than those imposed or interpreted by the human brain (Burns & Ward, 1978). the
sensation of pitch is derived from the objective auditory data of the frequencies of ambient
sounds but has long been recognized to be a subjective experience, and not a precise correlate
of perceived frequency (Pantev et al., 1989; neu, 1947; lewis, op. cit., see cross 1997 for
review). there are numerous discriminatory and cognitive processes through which the
brain deals with pitch, and some definitions are relevant at the outset.
Pitch discrimination refers to the ability of a listener to judge whether two sounds are the
same or different in pitch – an obvious essential for comprehension of melody and for
‘keeping in tune’ with tonal structures and with other performers. A particular focus of
interest for music psychologists and physiologists has been the ‘difference-limen’ (dl),
i.e., the minimum change of frequency needed to induce in the listener perception of a
pitch change. the threshold at which discrimination becomes possible has commonly been
termed a ‘just-noticeable-difference’ (Jnd). it is not possible to offer an absolute frequency
value for the Jnd point as it has long been known that it is subject to the intensity (i.e.,
relative loudness) of stimulus tones and also their relative position along the scale of pitch
(schellenberg & Moreno, 2009; strange 1955, 1956; stevens, 1935). in general, an increase
in stimulus intensity raises perceived pitch of tones above 3,000Hz and lowers pitch at
frequencies below 800Hz, with negligible effect between 800–3,000Hz. in fact, pitch,
timbre, loudness and duration have all been observed to be inter-dependent in perception
(Bizley et al., 2009; sergeant, 1973). An early study by cohen, (1959) with 10 experienced
musicians reported difference-limens for musically trained listeners of 2%, though more
recent data suggests this may be too small an estimate (schellenberg et al., op.cit.). the
variance among the general musically untrained population tends to be rather wide,
however, and subject to age of listener (Madsen et al., 1969).
Most of the evidence of dl for pitch has been obtained from experiments using
isolated tone-pairs, often sine-wave tones, as stimuli, and the applicability of such data to
discrimination of musical sounds in intra-music contexts is uncertain; recent studies have
202 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
shown discrimination to be enhanced in familiar tonal musical contexts and the presence
of contextual tones facilitates extraction of pitch information, enabling pitch changes to be
processed more accurately (Warrier & Zatorre, 2002, 2004; Brattico et al., 2001; Sergeant
& Boyle, 1980).
A secondary issue of discussion has been whether the DL represents the inborn limits
of the auditory peripheral coding system, or whether it is accessible to enhancement by
training. These issues are discussed below, but the recurrent evidence of the influence of
musical experience on perception makes a genetic hypothesis doubtful.
This aspect of music perception has received little attention in the literature of music
psychology, but has important implications for the study of pitch perception, and especially
for measurement of absolute pitch. By reason of their familiarity with the pitch ranges of
their own and other instruments, their knowledge of music notation and the relative pitch
regions encompassed by music staves and clefs, together with a sensory-motor awareness
of the modal regions of their own vocal range, trained musicians (MUS) acquire reliable
mental templates of relative pitch height. On hearing a tone, they are able to estimate its
pitch height to within a fairly close approximation of the true pitch. Even non-musicians
(NMUS) and children have been shown to possess some degree of LRP, though the variance
is greater than that for musicians (Halpern, 1989; Lockhead & Byrd, 1981; Sergeant &
Roche, 1973). Levitin (1994), for example, asked 46 unselected adults to sing passages from
two remembered popular songs of their choice; their performances were digitally recorded,
and pitch of the steady states of the first three sung tones were compared with those of the
original recordings from which the songs had become familiar. An average of 77% of vocal
productions were pitched within four semitones above or below the pitch of the original
recordings. Bachem (1937) had earlier found accuracy of pitch-height estimation to be circa
± 4 semitones of target pitch.
Absolute Pitch, sometimes referred to as ‘perfect pitch’, is the ability to identify and name
the pitch of sounds without reference to any other tone. An AP listener may have some, or
more rarely, all of the abilities outlined in Table 13.1.
AP has been described as an ‘extremely rare’ ability (Oeschlin et al., 2010), and
attempts have been made to estimate the incidence of AP in the world population: Deutsch
(2002, 2004, presumably citing Profita & Bidder, 1988) proposes a figure of 1:10,000,
but since there is no way of arriving at an accurate figure, such estimates are speculative.
Of its incidence among musically experienced listeners, Miyazaki (1995, p. 970) says
the proportion is ‘higher than believed earlier’. There are more positive data for trained
musicians among whom incidence has been listed variously as 10% (Julliard School of
Music), 20% (members of a symphony orchestra), and from an extensive survey of 1,556
professional musicians in UK, (Sergeant, 1969a, 1969b) 50%. This latter estimate is
supported by more recent observations (Vraka, 2010, Miyazaki, 2007).
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 203
AT is a related form of pitch memory which enables listeners who may not be able to
identify the pitch of individual tones to identify the key or tonality in which a piece of
music is being performed, and by this means to discriminate between performances in the
key in which a composition was originally composed and transpositions of it (Gussmack
et al., 2006). Obviously AT is within the capabilities of all AP possessors, as the salient
tonal/harmonic notes of the music’s tonal structure will be accessible to the categorical
pitch processing on which AP ability is reliant. However, MUS who show no ability for
AP naming of individual pitches may also possess AT at an above-chance level (Terhadt
& Seewan, 1983). NMUS have also been found to possess some level of memory for key
(Gussmack, loc. Cit.), though this may be related to LRP described above.
RP is the ability to judge the pitch distance between one sound and another, for example
‘a major 6th’, etc. It is the essence of music cognition that enables a child to recognize the
tune of ‘Happy Birthday when played on piccolo or cello, in the key of C or G, or sung by
male or female voice (Smith & Schmuckler, 2008); it enables relations between melodic
and harmonic components of music within tonal contexts to be understood (Miyazaki 1995,
p. 962) and enables the listener mentally to select invariants among highly variable stimuli
(Paavilailen et al., 1999, p.179, Unrau, 2006). RP is the basis of musicianship, the ability
that enables musicians to sing or ‘hear’ internally a melody from notation, pitching notes
in succession by their intervallic distance. It is highly dependent on cognitive structures of
tonality, in which component tones have membership of an hierarchy of degrees of tonal
strengths (Fine et al., 2006; Lerdahl, 2001; Krumhansl, 1979) differentiated by their relative
independence or stability, or propensity for ‘attraction’ to other member tones of a key. It
is also highly dependent on the familiarity of the tonal structures (Croonen, 1995). RP is
an essential for tuning and performance on instruments that do not have fixed pitch, e.g.,
stringed instruments. Relative Pitch is common to all musicians by reason of universal
patterns of intensive musical training, irrespective of whether they possess AP, though some
204 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
AP has fascinated researchers for more than a century (see Takeuchi & Hulse, 1993 for
a review), and is still a cause of controversy – why some musical people have the ability
to identify or produce pitches in isolation, while others, equally competent as musicians,
do not.
AP can exist only in the context of a musical system in which relations between pitch-
classes and their relative names and symbols are fixed. It is therefore essentially a musical
phenomenon, a form of behaviour whose ontogenesis is directly related to particular
western musical practices (Rakowski et al., 2007, Vraka, 2010).
The incidence of AP in the population is known to vary widely between social and
ethnic groups, and this has led some writers to see it as having ethnic or genetic origins.
Deutsch and collaborators (2009) for example observed that the AP incidence among music
students of Asian origin was significantly greater than among indigenous Americans. They
therefore concluded that this was related to the Asian musicians being speakers of tonal
languages (Mandarin, Cantonese and Vietnamese, etc.). However, a recent study by Vraka
(op. cit.) reports an even higher AP incidence among Japanese music students, whereas
Japanese is not a tonal language, but a pitch-accent language. Vraka points to socio-cultural
factors that encourage early beginning of systematic keyboard-based music training, in
which there is much emphasis on use of the ‘fixed-doh’ solfêge system. Miyazaki and
Ogawa (2006) report similar findings among children in Japanese music schools. Despite
extensive recent discussion concerning possible tonal-language links, there are important
functional differences between AP and pitch factors of speech.
Absolute pitch made a late entry into the literature of music psychology. Although there
are a few references to its existence in earlier times (e.g., an account by a contemporary
observer of the child Mozart’s precocious pitch identification skills (cited Deutsch, 1990),
it was not until the late 19th century that it was treated in serious discussion. The reason
for this is historical, and a consequence of the wide variety of pitch levels used in different
musical genres in Europe and America. Table 13.2. lists some of the frequencies, measured
from historical sources, that have variously been used for ‘tuning A’ (A above middle
C, or A4). The spread of pitch levels extends to almost a major sixth, from slightly above
F4 to just below D5. Although there were occasional attempts to achieve standardization
of pitch, these were only relatively local (e.g., the French government’s decree of 1859
making A4 = 435Hz), and no effective international agreement was reached until 1939
when A = 440Hz was adopted as an ‘International Concert Pitch’. Despite this so-called
‘universal’ agreement, variations of pitch are still evident in musical practice today,
with some European orchestras and some manufacturers of electronic instruments using
A = 443Hz, while performers of early and baroque music customarily play to A = 415Hz.
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 205
Table 13.2 Measured frequencies of tuning pitch from historical sources in Europe
and the US between 1610 and the present day
Characteristics of AP Behaviour
There is general agreement in the literature as to the nature of AP behaviours. The first
characteristic is immediacy of pitch recognition response, which is made ‘with minimum
of deliberation’ (Gregersen et al., 2000), ‘effortlessly’ (Profita & Bidder, 1988), ‘accurately
and immediately’ (Bachem, 1955; Zatorre, 2003; Miyazaki, 1988; Takeuchi & Hulse, 1993).
There is also general agreement that identification is not uniformly reliable across the
pitch range, with greater accuracy evident in middle octaves than in outer (Riker, 1946;
Miyazaki, 1989).
Early in the experimental study of AP it was noted that accuracy of pitch recognition was
subject to the timbre of the stimulus tone. This led some writers to postulate a notion of a ‘true’
form of AP – an idealized form which relied on an internal pitch standard of A = 440Hz . The
‘truest’ form of this ability was universally transferable, accommodating any spectral quality
of tone, enabling its possessor to identify pitch of tones from bells, sine-wave oscillators,
and even metal shoe-scrapers with equal ease (Scholes, 1950). Less blessed possessors were
able to apply their internal standard only to a narrower range of sound phenomena. Later it
was seen that this differential pitch recognition was more related to familiarity of stimulus
timbre, especially of instruments experienced early in life and typically before the age of
seven. Supporting evidence for this comes from numerous instances reported in the literature
of APs who switched instruments in middle years of childhood, but retained AP only for
the instrument studied first chronologically. Sergeant, (1969a and b), noted that all but
two of the 111 AP musicians tested gained highest scores for pitch-naming for tones of the
instrument they had chronologically learned first. When the ten instrumental tones, which
were used as stimuli, were ranked in order of the numbers of correct denominations made
for them, and compared with ranking for numbers of listeners who had extended experience
of performing on them, a correlation of rho = .878, p < .001 was obtained. This relationship
provides an explanation of why AP ability has repeatedly been found to be most reliable for
piano tones, and least accurate for vocal sounds and for non-musical sounds such as sine-
wave tones (Benguerel & Westdal, 1991; Vanzella & Schellenberg, 2010).
Another early observation was that pitches of ‘black’ keys on the keyboard were
identified less accurately than those of ‘white’ keys: Boggs (1907), for example, reported
that nearly all errors made by his AP listeners were in relation to ‘black’ keys; Gough (1922,
p. 48) reported that her AP listeners made 67% correct judgements for white notes, but
only 39% for black. Later studies have confirmed this observation (Vraka, 2010; Takeuchi &
Hulse, 1991; Miyazaki, 1990; Sergeant, 1969a, 1969b; Zeitlin, 1964). Using a chronometric
measure, Miyazaki (1990) showed that responses to white notes were also more rapid than
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 207
for black. These observations led Simpson and Huron (1994) to make an analysis of the
relative occurrence of black versus white notes in a large sample of music composed in the
tonal idiom. Results showed that a substantially larger proportion of pitches employed were
‘white’ notes, and this supported the idea of an environmental influence in AP.
A relationship has also been found between recognition strength of pitch-classes and
the frequency of their occurrence in music typically experienced by players in early days
of instrumental training. Sergeant (1969a) asked experienced teachers of piano, violin and
cello to provide examples of music they customarily used with young beginners on their
instrument. When the frequencies of occurrence of their component pitches were compared
with recognition strengths recorded by 111 AP listeners, correlations of .531 p < .01 were
found between the two rankings. In two later studies Miyazaki (1988, 1990) found similar
recognition strengths for selected tonally salient pitches in C major tonality (C, E, and
G) which were reflected in both accuracy and speed of response; he concluded that this
reflected differential accessibility of pitch classes in long-term memory as a consequence
of early age of commencement of musical training (ACTs).
The basic form of AP behaviour, common to all possessors, is its recognition function,
i.e., ability to name the pitch-class of a sounded tone. A much smaller number of AP
possessors are also able to produce pitch of tones (vocally/humming, etc.) by retrieval from
LT memory, i.e., exercising a recall function. (The two forms – recognition and recall, are
described by Parncutt and Levitin (op. cit.) as ‘Passive’ and ‘Active’ AP). There are no
reliable data as to the relative proportions of APs who are capable of recognition only or
able to exercise both recognition and recall functions.
A much-debated issue is whether AP can be regarded as a form of categorical
perception – a concept that evolved in relation to language perception. Evidence from
many studies indicates that APs customarily categorize tones into familiar pitch-classes
208 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
and remember the names of the classes rather than remembering individual frequencies
(Tervaniemi et al., 1993; Oeschlin et al., 2010, etc.). A pitch-class must therefore be seen
as that area of auditory pitch-space existing between the boundaries at which it becomes
perceptually distinct from the adjacent pitch-classes higher and lower. Logically, these
pitch-class boundaries will lie at the midpoints between central frequencies of adjacent
pitch-classes (Figure 13.1).
Siegel and Siegel (1977) explored the locations of perceived pitch-class boundaries
with APs and NAPs by presenting sine-wave tones pitched at 20 cent1 increments rising
from Middle C4 (261Hz) to E4 (330Hz), a total of 21 pitches. Listeners were asked to
assign each tone to its nearest perceived pitch-class by pressing one of five keys. Tests were
repeated after an interval of one month. Data for the three most reliable APs (means from
the two testings, calculated from data provided by Siegel) are graphed at Figure 13.2. Pitch-
class categories should become most ambiguous at boundary points, where differentiation
judgements should fall to approximately 50%. In fact, the identification functions show
sharp escarpments that indicate the presence of clear, if slightly asymmetric boundaries,
with a tendency to flatness against A440Hz standard frequencies. These give support to
Zatorre’s contention (2003) that APs may retain up to 70 pitch categories (number variable
from one individual to another) which are stored hierarchically, ordered on pitch height
and accessed by verbal coding. The common observation that APs make frequent errors
of octave designation (Miyazaki, 1989) also indicates that the attention of possessors is
directed to pitch-class bandwidth rather than to relative pitch height.
It is important to recognize that the characteristics of AP reviewed above have been
identified from many studies, with evidence consequently generalized from large numbers
of subjects. But AP listeners as individuals are unlikely to conform to all the identified
characteristics. As with all functions involving human memory, individuals will have
developed their own characteristic behaviour patterns – in fact, there are probably as many
‘types’ of AP ability as there are possessors.
Sundberg and Himonides (2013) have shown that the entire pitch space lying between
the outer boundaries of a pitch class may be exploited for expressive purposes, and that
deviation of a tone from the centre frequency may not constitute an error of intonation on
the part of a performer. Frequency analysis of performances by singers revealed that phrase-
peak tones were systematically sharpened in emotionally charged passages, but this was not
evident in more relaxed passages. Rapoport (1996, p. 112–13, 2004) similarly reports that
singers exploit intonation in a methodical way as part of their expressive devices.
1
1 cent = 1/100 of a semitone, irrespective of actual frequency.
210 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Nevertheless, the picture is as yet far from clear: although scientists are able to discern
those areas of the brain in which neurons are showing responsive activity, the nature and
contents of the imagery represented by this activity is not known, and can only be surmised
from our knowledge of the typical involvement of those areas of brain morphology in day-
to-day human activity and commerce – speech, motor skills, emotions, etc. Interpretation of
evidence from the considerable body of research is made more difficult by the differences
in measurement procedures employed and the stimulus materials used to initiate neuronal
activity and in service of differing research intentions. Thus the picture provided by even a
comprehensive comparison of current research evidence remains unfocused.
There are several principles on which brain research is based. Firstly, there is a principle
of brain plasticity. The brain is an infinitely flexible organ, capable of adaptation to demands
of environmental events and development of its own internal circuitry. If external stimuli are
encountered frequently and in similar contexts, the synaptic links between simultaneously
firing neurons take the form of positive cellular growth, evidence of adaptation and
learning having taken place (a process first described by Hebb, 1949). Recent researches
have repeatedly found evidence of greater magnitudes of cellular growth among trained
musicians (MUS) compared with non-musicians (NMUS) in auditory, linguistic, visual and
motor areas of brain operation and in the communicative matter linking them (Gaser &
Schlaug, 2003, Trainor et al., 2002, Schneider et al., 2002, Hannon & Trainor, 2007, Bangert
et al., 2003, Hutchinson et al., 2003). Neural networks may be particularly plastic during
“sensitive” periods in the development of cortical structures, but retain their ability to alter
their architecture in response to afferent input throughout life (Wilson, 2009, Keenan, 2001).
Secondly there is the process of synaptic pruning: plasticity enables the brain
dynamically to adjust and revise its schemata and firing sequences: just as additional cells
may become incorporated into synaptic sequences and neuronal centres, so these systems
and sequences may become abbreviated or revised in processes of ‘brain tuning’, enhancing
neural efficiency. New associations are formed that supersede previously established, but
now redundant processes (Chechik et al., 1999). As a consequence, evidence gained from
imaging of brain activity tells us only the status quo – patterns of neuronal connectivity as
they currently exist – and they cannot be interpreted as reliable evidence of the neuronal
behaviours and links that contributed to their ontogenesis, since the sequences may
have changed by being absorbed into subsequent processes, or excised in the process of
synaptic pruning.
Thirdly, when a neuron is activated in response to incoming signals, chemical changes
occur in the balance of sodium and potassium through the cell membrane, resulting in an
electrical discharge. If several neurones in the same location fire synchronously, a measurable
field potential is created, and this may be generated simultaneously in multiple locations in
the brain. Although small, these electrical brain activities can be readily measured by EEG,
and can be separated from other ongoing regular electrical activity by averaging over many
hundreds of events. When these synaptic potentials occur in response to presentation of a
stimulus, they are described as Event-Related Potentials (ERPs).2 Characteristically ERPs
consist of negative and positive potentials, which occur within a few hundred milliseconds
of the onset of the stimulus, to which measurements are time-locked.
If a deviant element occurs in a stream of stimuli, a negative component becomes evident
in the waveform (ERP), which is known as a MisMatch Negativity (MMN). This occurs
2
In the case of responses to auditory signals, they are sometimes referred to as Auditory Evoked
Potentials (AEPs)
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 211
only when a change in the stream of stimulus information contradicts an expected event
or pattern. This is of great interest, since it enables us to gain insights into a listener’s
understanding of the musical structure of the stimulus, and how this affects processing of
incoming information.
There is compelling evidence from neurological studies that as a consequence of brain
plasticity, structural music-experience-induced changes evolve in the brain morphology,
and these are particularly evident if regular instruction has been experienced before the
age of seven years. Musicians with ACTs before age seven have been found to have
larger anterior midsagittal corpus callosum than control musicians who started music
lessons at a later age (Schlaug et al., 1995). The corpus callosum is the linking material
between hemispheres, and so a larger number of fibres crossing the midline enhances
interhemispheric communication.
Changes have been reported to take the form of asymmetries and enlargement of
areas of the brain that are engaged in musical activities. Musacchia et al. (2007) observed
modifications to cortical organization that correlated strongly with length of music
engagement; and active engagement in music lessons results in greater plasticity effects
than does passive music listening (Hannon & Trainor, 2007). Lappe et al., (2008) similarly
report that music training involving sensory-motor practice invokes more change in the adult
cortex than does auditory training not involving sensory-motor engagement. Bengtsson
et al. (2005) found positive correlations between practising and fibre tract organisation
affecting different regions in respect of childhood, adolescence and adulthood.
Areas of the brain that have been identified as implicated in musical responses include
the planum temporale and anterior corpus callosum (Schlaug et al., 1995), anteriomedial
region of Heschl’s gyrus (Schneider et al., 2002), primary auditory cortex, (Münte, 2002;
Schneider, 2002; Trainor et al., 2002), white matter tracts between primary auditory cortex
and spinal cord near Broca’s area (Bengtsson et al., loc. cit.), primary hand motor areas and
the cerebellum.
The consequences of such structural changes in musicians are evidenced in greater
amplitudes in the measured potentials compared with non-musicians, and correspondingly
shorter latencies (i.e., shorter elapse of time between stimulus onset and electrical event)
(Brattico et al., 2001 etc.; Hantz et al., 1992; Shahin et al., 2009), which have been recorded
to be as short as 10 msec after onset (Mussachia, op. cit.; Trainor et al., op.cit.).
The precise loci at which the brain becomes activated are determined by the nature of
the musical task, and are task-specific: a change of task requirement will cause a shift of
locus of neural activity (Zatorre et al., 1994), even though stimuli may be common to both
tasks. For example, Balaban et al. (1998) found alternate L-ear/R-ear advantages indicating
hemispheric lateralization for melodic processing, L-ear advantage for contour information,
R-ear for interval; using fMRI procedures, Sluming et al. (2007) found increased activation
in Brocca’s area – an area associated with auditory processing, in addition to well-known
visual-spatial brain networks supporting sight-reading and motor-sequencing in orchestral
musicians, but only when engaged in those tasks.
The collective evidence of the researches reviewed above, though divergent in
measurement procedures, stimuli employed, neuronal evidence examined and research
intention, clearly points to the engagement in musical tasking of interconnected activity
within networks of neuronal systems located in multiple areas of the brain, but especially
those concerned with motor, auditory and visual and verbal activity, rather than reliance
on single areas of brain topography (Sergent et al., 1992; Bangert et al., 2003; Hantz
et al., 1992; Habib & Besson, 2009; Hayward & Gromko, 2009).
212 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Importantly for the study of pitch perception, structural differences, with corresponding
differences in brain activity, have been observed between AP, NAP and RP musicians
(Itoh et al., 2005). Schlaug et al. (1995) found the left planum temporale (PT), an area
associated with auditory processing, to be larger than the right PT in APs than NAPs.
Keenan et al. (op. cit.) also report larger left-ward PT asymmetries in APs than in RPs
andNMus. Subsequent studies have indicated that rather than enlargement of left PT in
APs, this asymmetry may be more accurately reported as reduced volume of the right.
Wilson et al. (2009) found no differences in the volume of the left planum temporale
between APs and NAPs, but significantly smaller right PTs in APs compared with NAPs
and RPs, despite a common early commencement of training. Keenan (op. cit.) suggests
that pruning of the right PT may be a feature of early development. Ohnishi et al. (2001)
observed increased activity in left PT while APs listened to melodies, whereas RPs
and NMUS show a right auditory cortex preferential (Tervaniemi et al., 2001; Janata
et al., 2002; Overy et al., 2004).
Oeshclin et al. (2009) report consistent activation relating to AP ability in the posterior
part of middle temporal gyrus and anterior mid-superior temporal gyrus, indicating a direct
connection between AP and speech processing. APs and RPs showed significantly different
haemodynamic responses to complex sounds. Anatomical and functional differences
between AP and NAPs are reported by Schlaug et al. (1995), Luders et al. (2004), Wilson
et al. (2009), and Keenan (2001).
These structural differences between APs and NAPs are reflected in differential neural
activity. Hantz et al. (1992) and Hirose et al. (2002) both found AP ability reflected in
reduced amplitude or even total absence of P300 element of the ERP waveform, depending
on the required task. This may reflect AP’s use of long-term memory strategies rather
than a regular updating of working memory, and may mark an important general AP/NAP
contrast, though Renniger et al. (2003) observed P300’s in waveforms of APs who also
have strong RP ability.
The tendency for AP to manifest itself in childhood was recognized early in history of AP
research, and this encouraged a belief that it was an inherited trait. The association of AP
with early commencement of musical training is now universally recognized. Its strength is
clearly evident in data from two major surveys among age of commencement of musicians
(Profita and Bidder (1988) and Sergeant (1969a), (Figures 13.3a and 13.3b), graphed to
show the percentage APs in each group by age of commencement of training.
Wilson et al. (2009) found corresponding evidence in a highly significant negative
correlation between age of commencement of musical training and scores on an AP test
(r = -.572, p < 0.001).
The association of AP with early musical training is even more evident when the data
are arranged as cumulative frequencies (percentage of APs Δ ACTs) for APs and NAPs
respectively (Figure 13.4): highly significant differences (p < 0.001) are evident between
the two groups.
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 213
Acquisition of AP
Since the earliest literature, writers have primarily approached AP naming as being a simple
bond between pitch-class and pitch-name, word and object. Cohen et al. (1990) for example
refer to AP as a process of ‘phonemic categorization’. This interpretation ignores the
214 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fig. 13.4 Age of commencement of training (ACTs) for AP and Non-AP musicians
multidimensional nature of perception, and more importantly, fails to consider the multiple
parameters of sensory experience potentially operating in AP behavior, which are reflected
in the evidence of neural studies reviewed above showing musical experience to be encoded
at multiple neural locations (Kraus et al., 2009). As Neu (1947, p. 249) indicated, there is a
need to consider the whole behavioural event taking place when an organism is interacting
with a stimulus object in any particular situation, including the a priori behavioural and
experiential history of the perceiver.
Naming is one of the important ways in which human beings mentally organize their
world, through which cognitive identity is imposed on named objects. But an object may
become ‘labelled’ not only through association with a verbal designation: the naming
processes embodies a psychological principle – that of identification by means of inter-
facilitation between images linked by reason of their habitual experiential contiguity,
operating in multiple areas of the brain. An object may acquire identifiability through
association with an action, visual image or symbol, a sound, an event, or any other form
of experience. Mohr et al. (1989) for example found superior memory performance under
motor encoding than verbal encoding, and more so in recognition than recall.
A sound may be encoded on any of the multiple perceptual properties it possesses,
including ones beyond those parameters to which scientific measurement may be applied.
A musical tone might elicit any one or more of the encoding responses in Table 13.3, though
probably at subconscious level.
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 215
‘It’s a piano’ (timbre categorization and causality: reliant on our experience of instruments and
their spectral qualities)
‘It’s about middle of the range of the keyboard’ (visual, auditory and spatial imagery from
experience of instruments and a resultant sense of LRP)
‘It was played loudly’ (kinesthetic/haptic imagery of how it feels to produce a tone at that level of
intensity)
‘That’s the sound that “C” makes’ (visual-spatial and auditory imagery of keyboard or other
instrument)
‘We use our thumb on that one at start of C major scale’ (kinaesthetic/haptic imagery and memory)
‘It’s written on its own special leger-line between the two staves’ (visuo-spatial imagery from
knowledge of the way music is notated)
If we imagine a child visiting their piano teacher for the very first lesson, the perceptual
data encountered would be likely to include many of the following features:
‘Let’s look at the keyboard together – see, it’s made up of white notes and black notes’
‘The white ones are at the front, the black ones are all further back’
‘Look at the black notes – they are arranged in groups of two and three together’
‘This group here has two black notes – can you find me another group of two black
notes together?’
‘That’s right! Now find me a group of three … and another group of three?’
‘Each note has its own name, just like you and I. This white one, just to the left of this
group of two black keys, is called ‘C’. Can you find me another key that might have the
same name?’
‘Let’s look at the keyboard again – this one here is called ‘A’. What do you think this next
one might be called?’ … ‘Yes, that’s right! It’s called ‘B’. So what about this one? … Yes
it’s ‘C’!’ ‘Shall we sing those three notes together ? ‘A-B-C’…’
‘Put your thumb on the C key, and press it down… now do it a little harder … now a
little softer’
‘What difference does that make to the sound? Did you notice how the tone got louder or
softer as you changed the way you pressed it?’
‘Now we’ll see how we write these notes in music writing’
‘Later on, we’ll be learning what names we give to the black notes on the keyboard
etc., etc.
All those dimensions and associations that are likely to become contributory components
of future AP behavior, acting as cues for recognition and recall, are absorbed from the
experiences of the first lessons. In terms of perception and mental representation, the
multidimensional mental imagery generated by the tone ‘C’ would initiate neural processing
in areas of the brain concerned with visual, spatial, motor, kinesthetic and verbal areas of
the brain. Building of multidimensional associative networks between them would begin
from the first moments of training; each branch of the encoding neural network would be
reinforced through daily rehearsal.
The process of acquisition of the data needed for acquisition of AP is schematized in
Figure 13.5.
216 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
The Hebbian view of neural functioning is that synaptic contacts are plastic and are
modified as a consequence of synchronous firing of cells – ‘cells that fire together wire
together’. Sensory information from peripheral systems is transferred via specific afferent
fibres to specific regions of the cortex, resulting in creation of multidimensional sensory
representations. The neural areas involved relate in an orderly way to spatial arrangement
of receptors in the periphery (Elbert et al., 2001) thus establishing multi-region networks,
whose structures, according to Elbert et al. (1995) may be particularly plastic during
‘sensitive’ periods of cortical development.
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 217
Fig. 13.6 ‘Cells that fire together, wire together.’ Hypothesized neural networks for
recognition and recall functions of AP
Figure 13.6 shows a hypothesized functional neural network, such as might develop
from the experiences of early training on a musical instrument. Any one locus in the system
has a potentiality to act as a trigger point in stimulating activity within the system, effecting
interaction with other loci, thereby awakening a process of identification, either in the form
of recognition of an incoming stimulus or retrieval of an image stored at another point in
the network. Recognition and retrieval will depend importantly on the facility with which
a cue to recognition is processed (Haist et al., 1992). Recognition and recall AP functions
may use identical pathways in the system but begin from different trigger points, so that
their facilitation may be one-way, and not be reversible.
The human brain is not mechanistic in its behaviour, and even though the collective
stimuli experienced in early training may be very similar for all learners, each child
musician will interact with the information present in an individual way, and there will be
considerable personal variability in what is perceived and in the relative emphases among
linkages in the networks that develop in individuals. Each child musician will follow a
unique path of development, so that particular links will be prioritized over others, some
becoming strong, others remaining relatively weak, or even not developing at all. The
model provides explanation for the variabilities among the characteristics observable in
AP behaviours. For example, Vanzella and Schellenberg’s recent finding (2010) that the
pitch-classes of vocal tones are significantly less well indentified than tones of instruments
of fixed pitch would be explained by the fact that no visual-spatial cues are associated with
vocal sounds, and therefore those elements in the model networks would be operative in
the case of such stimuli.
218 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
3
‘Who can say, by looking at this table, where those subjects gifted with AP finish and where
those who do not possess it begin?’
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 219
a different compromise in their scoring procedure, attributing one whole point for each
response correct to the pitch-class, and ¾ point for semitone errors in either direction.
Aware of reports of effects of ageing, through which some APs experience upward shifts in
perception of up to a semitone, a concession was allowed so that listeners over 45 years of
age were awarded a whole point for their semitone errors, irrespective of whether they had
reported themselves as being subject to such a pitch shift. Although Baharloo’s listeners
were tested on both piano and sine-wave tones, only the responses for s-w tones were
counted on the basis that listeners who could identify pitch of s-w tones would be likely
to perform even better on piano tones! Athos et al. (2007) similarly tested listeners on
piano and sine-wave tones, but counted only the latter for selection of their AP group, also
allowing a semitone error bonus points for older subjects.
Criteria based on proximity are not consonant with the meaning that musicians
commonly understand by the term AP, and is certainly not consonant with musical practice.
Imagine a scenario in which a recital violinist tuned his instrument to ‘within a minor
second either side’ of the pitch of the accompanist’s piano!
If the criterion of pitch proximity is rejected, identification of AP behaviour becomes
a statistical issue. In any test, the number of correct responses that might be obtained by
chance by a subject not possessing the to-be-measured ability can be estimated from the
binomial mean. If we construct a test of 100 to-be-named pitches (an unlikely occurrence,
though not without precedents, but a convenient one for illustration as it enables us to
argue in percentages!), the theoretical chance level can be expressed as np (the number of
test items x the item probability). Because there are twelve possible pitch names to choose
from, the probability of a correct response has been commonly assumed to be 1:12 (e.g.,
Deutsch et al., 2009), which would yield a mean of 8.33 for the binomial distribution
for our test. But this is an over-simplification: the binomial mean is merely a theoretic
value, and mean scores obtained from real-life samples of chance-score NAP listeners
would be expected to deviate above and below the value of the mean. The standard
error of the binomial mean (calculated from √npq where p is the probability of making
a correct response and q the probability of making an incorrect one) has therefore to
be estimated. In our theoretical situation, this gives an estimated value of 2.763. To be
minimally sure that a listener’s score was above chance level, in accordance with standard
statistical practice, we would look for a point at 1.96 standard deviations (for the p = 0.05
level), or 2.58σ (p = 0.01 level) from the mean (5.41 and 7.12 respectively). This gives
thresholds of significance of 13.75 and 15.46 respectively, so listeners achieving correct
pitch identification scores of 14% (0.05 level) or 16% (0.01) would have to be regarded
as performing at above chance level, and therefore as possessing a significant level of
absolute pitch, lying somewhere on a continuum of increasing accuracy between chance
and 100%.
The evidence of LRP, discussed above, that pitch-identifications of non-APs are not
random, but are likely to be proximal to the target pitch, with a majority falling within a
minor third either side of target, suggests that the above estimate, based on an expected
probability of 1:12 is flawed, and that a probability of 1:7 (allowing an LRP bandwidth of a
minor third either side of the target) or 1:9 (allowing a less parsimonious margin of a major
third) would be more appropriate. Applying these levels, scores of 22% (p = 0.05) or 24%
(p = 0.01) or 18% and 20% (if 1:9 probability adopted) would identify AP behaviour more
realistically. Above these base-lines, the level of accuracy or range of timbres which may
be identifiable merely mark person-to person variance in the memory characteristics of
individual listeners: the more functional the neural networks operating in the AP recognition
220 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
or retrieval event, the greater will be the number of correct responses and the range of
spectral qualities of the tones that become identifiable.
On this basis, we here propose that there is only one form of AP behaviour, the criterion
for which is correct identification of pitch-class at minimum probability of p = 0.05 above
chance. The various ‘types’ of AP that have been described in the literature, e.g., ‘Genuine
AP’, ‘Pseudo AP’ (Bachem, 1937), ‘Partial AP’ (Takeuchi & Hulse, 1991), ‘Latent
AP’ (Levitin, 1994; Ward, 1999), ‘Piece AP’ (Parncutt & Levitin, 1980), ‘Quasi AP’ (Wilson
et al., 2009), ‘AP grades 1–4’ (Prifita & Bidder, 1988) represent a misunderstanding of the
nature of the musical judgement from a musician’s standpoint. In research practice, the
effect has frequently been to commit ‘type I and type II errors’, i.e., acceptance of an ability
as being present when it is not, or denying it when it is.
In summary, we argue that AP ability is attributable to the concatenation of several
interacting factors: musically motivated parents providing stimulation and opportunities
for early musical development and training, with teachers providing guidance and
prompting perceptual attention, introducing verbal labels for note-locations and names for
specific loci in visual, kinetic and auditory space, regular practice at a keyboard repeatedly
rehearsing multiple motor cues, and all taking place at a ‘sensitive period’ of childhood
mental development when surface ‘absolute’ features of sounds are salient (Sergeant &
Roche, 1973) and when neural plasticity is maximised.
Historically, study of AP has been misdirected by a belief that in some hidden sanctuary
in the AP brain there burns a sacred ever-burning flame at a ‘pitch-temperature’ of exactly
A = 440Hz, probably in the form of a sine-wave tone, and that this gift, vouchsafed only to
AP possessors, is denied to those lesser mortals who are obliged to rely on a less elevated
relative pitch (RP). ‘People who have good AP have been admired as highly talented
musicians’ says Miyazaki (1995, p. 962). In the absence of a more satisfactory explanation,
it has been assumed that the gift was an inborn trait, a ‘gift of nature’. This view gained
support from the observation that AP tends to manifest itself in early childhood.
Although much of the early literature was energized by this phenomenalistic belief,
(and it still resonates today), possession of AP is not an indicator of the presence of a
superior musical talent. Musicians themselves differ in their views about the value of AP
in their professional work. Many fine performers who have enjoyed exemplary careers as
musicians were NAPs, including Wagner, Ravel and Stravinsky (Slonimsky, 1988). There
are undoubtedly musical situations in which AP can be a decided advantage. In vocal sight-
reading, for example, APs are able to rely on a direct link between pitch and visual symbol
without having to make relative judgements of intervallic distances. This would be especially
advantageous in a context of an atonal composition, in which the tonal hierarchical system
on which RP is so heavily reliant is absent. However, as recognition strength of tones has
been shown to be related to their degree of tonal stability, AP singers may not be able to
produce all tones with equal reliability across the pitch range. A balancing disadvantage
for AP singers is if an a capella vocal ensemble begins to lose pitch, in which case the AP
vocalist can experience difficulty.
For the composer, whose work involves transcription of mentally heard sounds
into notation, AP is undoubtedly a valuable benefit, and Miyazaki (2007) mentions its
usefulness for music students in tasks such as music dictation – a connection subsequently
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 221
There has been an inherent assumption among researchers that once acquired, AP is a lifelong
attribute and that the ability will remain with its possessor unchanged throughout their life.
Evidence from musicians shows that this is not the case. Retention of AP is dependent on
constant refreshment through continued engagement with musical practice, otherwise it
may become less reliable, and ultimately recede altogether. AP may be lost through other
causes: Gerald Moore, renowned accompanist who worked with many leading singers of
the twentieth century, describes how in his younger working life as a cathedral organist,
he possessed very reliable AP. After moving to Europe and becoming much engaged as
an accompanist he was frequently asked to transpose piano parts to keys more convenient
for the singer. Resulting contradictions between the notated symbol, its spatial location on
the keyboard, and the pitch perceived, proved difficult for him, and ultimately, processes
of brain plasticity presumably causing pruning of the neural networks involved in the AP
processes, his AP ability was ultimately lost (Moore, 1969, personal communication).
Other causes of variability of AP have been reported. Wyn (1992) reports fluctuations of
judged pitch standard in four female APs during their menstrual cycle, though the effects on
perception were reported as somewhat inconsistent. He suggests that variation averaging 50
cents during a day might be normal for these subjects. Evidence that AP judgement is
affected by body temperature has been presented by Iwamoto et al. (2007), and this may
possibly be related to similar causes to those indicated by Wyn. A female AP possessor
measured her body temperature twice daily, and immediately afterwards tuned a variable
pitch generator to A440 without aid of any external cue. Although overall correlations
proved non-significant, a periodic association was found, showing that an increase in body
temperature of + 0.6° (cent.) induced a downward shift of perceived pitch of – 2Hz.
Other reported causes of AP unreliability are tiredness (Boult, personal communication),
periods of separation from music activities and as a temporary side-effect of medication
(Kashihara et al., 1998; Fujimoto et al., 2004; Chaloupka et al.,1994).
A self-report by Vernon (1977) describes a long-term age-related upward pitch shift of at
first a semitone at age 52 which by age 71, reached a whole tone. Baharloo et al. (1998)
report that 16 of their 20 APs aged over 45 years reported an upward semitone shift.
Similar evidence is reported by Gabrielsson (2012), Burns and Ward (1982), Beck (1978)
and Triepel (1934), Athos et al. (2007), reporting data from a web-based survey of 2,213
AP individuals (which included an on-line pitch-naming test), found a systematic age-
related decline in AP accuracy characterized by a shift of the mental pitch map ‘sharp-
222 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
wards’ which proved significant p < 0.0001; no listener in their sample aged over 51
accurately identified all tones in the test.
Particularly important for the AP musician are the relative roles of AP and RP processing in
music cognition (Miyazaki & Rakowski 2002, p. 1344). In a study requiring relative pitch
operations, Miyazaki (1995) found significant deficits in APs in performance of RP tasks:
APs showed significantly poorer accuracy than NAPs in recognizing tonal intervals, and
this was also reflected in longer response times. Significant deficits were particularly found
for intervals wider than an octave (p < 0.001) for which only 22% accuracy was recorded
by APs. Significant deterioration was also evident in APs performance when the reference
tone for interval recognition was moved from C3 to F#4, indicating that listener’s AP sense
was more robust in C major and its proximally related keys than in remoter tonalities. These
differences were also reflected in respective response times.
APs have also been reported to be disadvantaged in musical transposition. In a study
by Mito (2003) APs and NAPs were asked to sight-read two keyboard pieces (Bach and
Chopin) in two conditions: i) on a keyboard tuned three whole tones below normal pitch, and
ii) on a keyboard at normal pitch. APs made many more errors in the transposing keyboard
condition and were less efficient in correcting errors. Taken with Siegel’s evidence on pitch-
class category boundaries (above), the implications are that APs will experience difficulty if
an instrument is tuned in excess of around 50 cents removal from standard pitch.
In a similar experiment, Miyazaki and Rakowski (2002) asked AP and NAP listeners to
compare a melody displayed in standard notation (on piano, in C major) with an auditorily
presented comparison (either C major or transposed to E of F#) and distinguish between
‘same’ and ‘different’ conditions in which a deviant semitone shift had occurred. In
untransposed ‘same’ examples, APs excelled NAPs, but for transposed instances, APs were
significantly poorer than NAPs due to the conflict between notated and perceived pitches.
Miyazaki (2007) argues that AP may be irrelevant to music, and even writes of it as ‘an
inability’ (Miyazaki, 1993), suggesting that some form of remedial programme might be
advisable to assist music students who are AP possessors. This would certainly appear to
be an exceptional opinion, but the collective evidence is perhaps that the advantages of AP
may have sometimes been overstated.
Many studies have reported attempts to develop the ability in adults, all of which have
failed to achieve significant improvement. Some of these are unsubstantiated self-reports.
In those cases where some level of pre-post-training improvement has been achieved,
successful trainees have failed to demonstrate the immediacy of response that characterizes
AP behaviour, and whether the improvement has proved to be a long-term effect has not
been determined. The evidence is that attempts to acquire AP are laborious and at best
only marginally and temporarily successful. Given that among musicians of demonstrable
competence, the highest recorded proportion of APs is no more than 50%, it would be
difficult to justify the inclusion of AP training in courses of higher education in music, and
despite the many courses of AP training offer on the worldwide web, usually at a cost of
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 223
several hundred dollars up-front, all of unproven worth, the view of Gorrow (2002) that ‘If
you have absolute pitch, God bless you. If not, don’t worry about it. Get a $4 tuning fork
and get on with your work!’ can be considered realistic.
References
Chechik, G., Meilijson, I., Ruppin, E. (1999). Neuronal regulation: A mechanism for
synaptic pruning during maturation. Neural Computing, 15:11(8), 2061–80.
Cohen, A. (1959). Pitch-intensity relationship for pure and complex tones. Dissertation
Abstracts, 20, 8.
Cohen, A., Baird, K. (1990). Acquisition of absolute pitch: The question of critical periods.
Psychomusicology, 9, 31–7.
Croonen, W. L. M. (1995). Two ways of defining tonal strength and implications for
recognition of tone series. Music Perception, 13(1), 109–19
Cross, I. (1997). Pitch schemata. In I. Deliege and J. Sloboda (Eds) Perception and
Cognition of Music (pp. 357–90). Hove: Psychology Press.
Deutsch D. (2002). The puzzle of absolute pitch. Current Directions in Psychological
Science, 11, 200–204.
Deutsch, D., Henthorn, T. & Dolson, D. (2004) Absolute pitch, speech and tone language:
Some experiments and a proposed framework. Music Perception, 21(3), 339–56.
Deutsch, D., Dooley, K., Henthorn, T. & Head, B. (2009). Perfect pitch: Language wins
out over genetics. 21 May 2009, 157th Meeting of the Acoustic Society of America,
Portland, OR.
Deutsch, E. O. (1990). Mozart: A documentary biography (3rd Ed.) London: Simon and
Schuster (citing a contemporary report of 1763 in Ausburglischer Intelligenz-Zettel).
Dooley, K. & Deutsch, D. (2010). Absolute pitch correlates with high performance on
musical dictation. Journal of the Acoustic Society America, 128(2), 890.
Elbert, T., Pantev, C., Wienbruch, C., Rockstroh, B. & Taub, E. (1995). Increased cortical
representation of the fingers of the left hand in string players. Science, 270(5234), 305–7.
Elbert, T., Heim, S. & Rockstroh, B. (2001). Neural plasticity and devevelopment. In
C. A. Nelson & M. Luciana (Eds), Handbook of Developmental Cognitive Journal of
Neuroscience. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Fine, P., Berry, A. & Rosner, B. (2006). The effect of pattern recognition and tonal
predictability on sight-singing ability. Psychology of Music, 34(4), 431–47.
Fujimoto, A., Enomoto, T., Takana, S., Nose, T. (2004). Pitch perception abnormality as a
side effect of carbamazepine. Journal of Clinical Neuroscience, 11(1), 69–70.
Gabrielsson, A. (2012) Reflections on music psychology. Keynote address:
SEMPRE 40th Anniversary Conference 14–15 September. Institute of Education,
University of London.
Gaser, C., Schlaug, G. (2003). Brain structures differ between musicians and nonmusicians.
Journal of Journal of Neuroscience, 23(27), 9240–45.
Gorrow, R. (2002). Hearing and writing music. Gardena, CA: September Publishing,
SCB Distributors.
Gough, E. (1922). The effects of practice on judgments of absolute pitch. Archives de
Psychologie, 7(47), 1–93
Gregersen, E., Kowalski, M., Kohn, N. & Marvin, E. (2000). Letter to the editor: Early
childhood music education and predisposition to absolute pitch: Teasing apart genes
and environment. American Journal of Medical Genetics, 98, 280–82.
Gussmack, M. B., Vitouch, O. & Gula, B. (2006) Latent absolute pitch: An ordinary
ability? In M. Baroni, A. R. Addessi, R. Caterina & M. Costa (Eds) Proceedings of
the 9th International Conference on Music Perception and Cognition, 9 Bologna, Italy.
pp 1236–44.
Habib, M. & Besson, M. (2009). What do music training and musical experience teach us
about brain plasticity? Music Perception, 26(3), 279–85.
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 225
Haist, F., Shimamura, A. P. & Squirre, L. R. (1992). On the relationship between recall and
recognition memory. Journal of Experimental Psychology, 18(4), 691–702.
Halpern, A. (1989). Memory for the absolute pitch of familiar songs. Memory and
Cognition, 17, 572–81.
Hannon, E. E. & Trainor, L. J. (2007). Music acquisition: Effects of enculturation and
formal training on development. Trends in Cognitive Science, 11, (11), 466–72.
Hantz, E. C., Crummer, G. C., Wayman, J. W., Walton, J. P. & Frisina, R. D. (1992). Effects
of musical training and absolute pitch on the neural processing of melodic intervals: A
P3 event-related potential study. Music Perception, 10, 25–42.
Hayward, C. M. & Gromko, J. E. (2009). Distributed neural networks underlying musical
sigh-reading and technical proficiency, spatial visualization and aural discrimination.
Journal of Research in Music Education, 57, 26–36.
Hebb, D. O. (1949) The Organisation of Behaviour. (New York: Wiley). Re-issued: 2009
Taylor & Francis e-library.
Hirose, H., Kubota, M., Kimura, D., Oshawa, M. & Sakakinara, Y. (2002). People with
absolute pitch process tones without producing P300. Neuroscience Letters, 330, 247–50.
Hutchinson, S., Lee, L. H., Gaab, N. & Schlaug, G. (2003). Cerebellar volume in musicians.
Cerebral Cortex, 13(9), 943–9.
Itoh, K., Suwazono, S., Arao, H., Miyazaki, K. & Nakada, T. (2005). Electrophysiological
correlates of absolute pitch and relative pitch. Cerebral Cortex, 15, 760–69.
Iwamoto, M., Doi, K., Togawa, T. (2007). The effect of body temperature on the
determination of pitch by an absolute pitch possessor. Conference paper presented at
the Imaging the future medicine world congress. 14(2), 115–17.
Janata, P., Birk, J. L., van Horn, J. D., Leman, M. & Tillman, B. (2002) The cortical
topography of tonal structures underlying western music. Science, 298(5601), 2167–71.
Jensen, J. K. & Neff, D. L. (1993). Development of basic auditory discrimination in
preschool children. Psycholical Science, 4, 104–7.
Kashihara, K., Imai, K. & Shohmori, T. (1998). Reversible pitch perception deficit due to
carbamezapine. Internal Medicine, 37(9), 774–5.
Keenan, J. P., Thangaraj, V., Halpern, A. R. & Schlaug, G. (2001). Absolute pitch and
planum temporale. NeuroImage 14, 1402–8.
Kraus, N., Skoe, E., Parbery-Clark, A. & Ashley, R. (2009). Experience-induced malleability
in neural encoding of pitch, timbre and timing: Implications for language and music.
Annals of the New York Academy of Science. 116, 540–57.
Krumhansl C. K. (1979) The psychological representation of musical pitch in a tonal
context. Cognitive Psychology, 11, 346–74.
Lappe, C., Herholz, S. C., Trainor, L. J. & Pantev, C. (2008). Cortical plasticity
induced by short-term unimodal and multi-modal musical training. Journal of
Neuroscience, 28(39), 9632–9.
Lerdahl, F. (2001). Tonal Pitch Space. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Levitin, D. (1994). Absolute memory for musical pitch: Evidence from the production of
learned melodies. Perception and Psychophysics, 56(4), 414–23.
Lewis, D. (1939). Pitch as a psychological phenomenon. Volume of Proceedings of the
Music Teachers’ Association, 14, 121–33.
Lockhead, G. R. & Byrd, R. (1981). Practically perfect pitch. Journal of the Acoustic
Society America, 70, 387–9.
Luders, E., Gaser, C., Janke, L. & Schlaug, G. (2004). A voxel-based approach to gray
matter asymmetries. NeuroImage, 22, 656–64.
226 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Rakowsky, A. & Miyazaki, K. (2007). Absolute pitch : Common traits in music and
language. Archives of Acoustics, 33(1), 5–16.
Rapoport, E. (1996). Emotional expression code in opera and lied singing. Journal of New
Music Research, 25(2), 109–49.
Rapoport, E. (2004) Schoenberg-Hartleben’s Pierrot Lunaire: Speech – Poem – Melody –
Vocal Performance. Journal of New Music Research, 33(1), 71–111.
Renniger, L. B., Granot, R. I., Donchin, E. (2003). Absolute pitch and the P300 component
of the Event-Related Potential: An exploration of the variables that may account for
individual differences. Music Perception, 20(4), 357–82.
Riker, B. L. (1946). The abilty to judge pitch. Journal of Experimental
Psychology, 36, 331–46.
Schellenberg, E. G. & Moreno, S. (2009). Music lessons, pitch processing and g. Psychology
of Music, 38, 209–21.
Schlaug, G., Jancke, L., Huang, Y. & Steinmetz, H. (1995). In vivo evidence of structural
brain symmetries in musicians, Science, 267, 699–701.
Schneider, P., Scherg, M., Dosch, H. G., Specht, H. J., Gutschalk, A. & Rupp, A. (2002).
Morphology of Heschl’s gyrus reflects enhanced activation in the auditory cortex of
musicians. Nature Journal of Neuroscience, 5, 688–94.
Scholes, P. (1957). The Oxford companion to music. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Sergeant, D. C. (1967). The Incidence and Characteristics of Absolute Pitch. 3rd Conference
on Research in Music Education, Reading University.
Sergeant, D. C. (1969a). Pitch perception and absolute pitch, some aspects of musical
development. (PhD thesis), Reading University.
Sergeant, D, C, (1969b). Experimental investigation of absolute pitch. Journal of Research
in Music Education, 17(1), 135–43.
Sergeant, D. C. (1973). Measurement of pitch discrimination. Journal of Research in Music
Education, 21, 3–19.
Sergeant, D. C. (1988). Language for auditory space. Early Child Development and
Care, 14(1–2), 37–74.
Sergeant D. C. & Roche, S. (1973) Perceptual shifts in the auditory information-processing
of young children. Psychology of Music, 1(2), 39–48.
Sergeant, D. C. & Boyle, J. D. (1980). Contextual influences on pitch judgement. Psychology
of Music, 8, 3–15.
Sergent, J., Zuck, E., Terriah, S. & MacDonald, B. (1992). Distributed networks underlying
sight-reading and keyboard performance. Science, 257(5066), 106–9.
Shahin, A. J., Trainor, L. J., Roberts, L. E., Backer, K. C. & Miller, L. M. (2009).
Development of auditory phase-locked activity for musical sounds. Journal of
Neurophysiology, 103, 218 –29.
Siegel, J. A. & Siegel, W. (1977). Absolute identification of notes and intervals by musicians.
Perception and Psychophysics, 21(2), 143–52.
Simpson, J. & Huron, D. (1994). Absolute pitch as a learned phenomenon: evidence
consistent with the Hick-Hyman law. Music Perception, 12(2), 267–70.
Slonimsky, N. (1930). Absolute pitch. American Mercury, 244–7.
Slonimsky, N. (1988). Perfect pitch: A rueful autopsy. NY: Oxford University Press.
Sluming, V., Brooks, J., Howard, M., Downes, J. J. & Roberts, N. (2007). Broca’s area
supports enhanced visuo-spatial cognition in orchestral musicians. Journal of
Neuroscience, 27(14), 3799–806.
228 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Smith, N. A. & Schmuckler, M. A. (2008). Dial A440 for absolute pitch: Absolute
pitch memory by non-absolute pitch possessors. Journal of the Acoustic Society of
America, 123(4), EL77–EL84.
Strange, P. H. (1955). The sense of pitch and local increase in threshold. Journal of
Physiology, 129, 225–36.
Strange, P. H. (1956). Pitch-intensity dependence and its relation to the threshold of hearing
for high frequencies. Journal of Physiology, 134, 741–6.
Stevens, S. S. (1935). The relation of pitch to intensity. Journal of the Acoustic Society
America, 6(3), 150–54.
Sundberg, J., La, F. M. B. & Himonides, E. (2013). Is intonation expressive? Journal of
Voice: online first.
Takeuchi, A. H. & Hulse, S. H. (1991). Absolute-pitch judgements of black and white key
pitches. Music Perception, 9(1), 27–46.
Takeuchi, A. H., Hulse, S. H. (1993). Absolute pitch. Psychological Bulletin, 113(2), 235–361.
Teplov, B. M. (1966). Psychologie des aptitudes musicales. Paris: Presses Universitaires
de France.
Terhardt, E. & Seewan, M. (1983). Aural key identification and its relation to absolute
pitch. Music Perception, 1(1), 63–83.
Tervaniemi, M., Alho, K., Paavilainen, P., Sams, M. & Naatanen, R. (1993). Absolute pitch
and event-related brain potentials. Music Perception, 10(3), 305–16.
Tervaniemi, M., Rytkönen, M., Schröger, E., Ilmoniemi, R. J. & Näätänen, R. (2001).
Superior formation of cortical memory traces for melodic paterns in musicians.
Learning and Memory, 8, 295–300.
Trainor, L. J., McDonald, K. L. & Alain, C. (2002). Automatic and controlled processing of
melodic contour and interval information measured by electrical brain activity. Journal
of Cognitive Neuroscience, 14, 430–42.
Triepel, H. (1934), Zur frage des absoluten gehörs. Archiv für die Gesamte
Psychologie, 90, 373–9.
Unrau, A. (2006). Comparing methods of musical pitch processing: How perfect is perfect
pitch? McMaster Journal of Communication, 3(1), 13–21.
Vanzella, P. & Schellenberg E. G. (2010). Absolute pitch: Effects of timbre on note-naming
ability. Doi: 10.1371/journal.pone.0015449.
Vernon, P.E. (1977).Absolute pitch:Acase study. British Journal of Psychology, 83(1), 113–21.
Vraka, M. (2010). The influence of culture on the development of absolute pitch. (PhD
Thesis.) London University, Institute of Education.
Von Kries, J. (1892). Űber das absolute Gehör. Zeitschrift für Psychologie 3, 257–79.
Ward, W. D. (1999). Absolute pitch. In D. Deutsch (Ed.) The Psychology of Music. San
Diego, CA: Academic Press.
Warrier, C. M. & Zatorre, R. J. (2002). Influence of tonal context and timbral variation on
perception of pitch. Perception and Psychophysics, 64(2), 198–207.
Warrier, C. M. & Zatorre, R. (2004). Right temporal cortex is critical for utilization of
melodic contextual cues in a pitch constancy task. Brain 127(7), 1616–25.
Wilson, S. J., Lusher, D., Wan, C. Y., Dudgeon, P. & Reutens, D. C. (2009). The
neurocognitive components of pitch processing: Insights from absolute pitch. Cerebral
Cortex, 19, (3), 724–32.
Wyn, V. T. (1992). Absolute pitch revisited. British Journal of Psychology, 83(1), 129–31.
Wyn, V. T. (1993) Accuracy and consistency of absolute pitch. Perception, 22(1), 113–21.
Pitch Perception and Absolute Pitch in Advanced Performers 229
Zatorre, R. J. (2003). Absolute pitch: A model for understanding the influence of genes and
development on neural and cognitive functions. Nature Neuroscience, 6, 692–5.
Zatorre, R. J., Evans, A. C. & Mayer, E. (1994). Neural mechanisms underlying melodic
perception and memory for pitch. Journal of Neuroscience, 14, 1908–19.
Zeitlin, L. R. (1964) Frequency discrimination of pure and complex tones. Journal of the
Acoustical Society of America, 36, 1207.
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 14
learning free improvisation in education
Introduction
Music
The best teaching is found in music where it is consistently very good with excellent
features. Pupils’ achievement in music is very good … The curriculum is excellent and
highly relevant to pupil’s needs. The quality of teaching in music is consistently very good
with excellent features. The key characteristics of this very good teaching are:
a) High expectations for pupils learning through challenging activities, supported by
very good knowledge of how to make musical activities relevant to the culture and
needs of the pupils. As a result pupils learn elements of classical music, such as styles
of famous composers, without realising it.
b) Very good relationships so pupils are respectful, behave well and are always
enthusiastic about music. This was reflected in discussions with pupils who identified
music as one of their favourite subjects.
c) A lively, brisk pace to the lessons so pupils work very productively and cover much
work during the available time.
d) Excellent use of very well-chosen activities and resources, such as digital cameras,
electronic keyboards, a range of multi-cultural instruments, microphones, compact
discs, audio cassettes which highly motivate pupils and generates enthusiasm and
love of music.
e) The excellent promotion of pupils’ personal development, where they are encouraged
to compose and perform in groups, to listen and reflect on musical styles and moods
which touch their emotions, and to experience music from a wide range of cultural
Learning Free Improvisation in Education 233
music by, for example, listening to Gamelan music from Indonesia and Irish folk
music, playing rap music and playing African drums.
These elements of strong teaching were seen in all music lessons and, as a result, pupils
learn very well and make good progress. Music teaching is a clear strength of the unit’s
work. Music is outstandingly well led by an experienced and enthusiastic coordinator who
demonstrates exceptional ability in providing interesting and highly relevant activities,
which capture the pupils’ imaginations and foster their deep love of music.
Assessment
The excellent assessment systems in music include the regular use of video and audio
recordings of pupils’ musical performances during lessons so they know exactly how well
they have achieved and what they need to do to improve … Very good use is made of
assessment for planning in music, where future lessons are based on the video or audio
recording of pupils’ prior achievement so they constantly improve their performance. The
requirements of the examination board are also meticulously followed in music and this
further supports pupils’ achievement.
Improvisation in Education
The reasons why improvisation is gaining such widespread attention at the present time
are in themselves complex. ‘Models’ of improvisation are attracting interest across
disciplines: within psychology and business systems (Sawyer, 2008); information
technology (Boudrieu & Robey 2005; Ciborro, 1996); music therapy (Wigram, 2004); as
well as more expected areas such as drama (Johnstone, 1999); dance (Pallant, 2006); and
music (Bailey, 1992). At a broader level there seems to be a strong, multi-dimensional
connection between the manner in which technology is affecting our understanding of
communication and relationships, and increased awareness of the utility of less fixed
systems for effectively being in the world. New technologies encourage us to re-evaluate
modes of functioning and the challenge to accepted, hierarchical models within media
posed by new technology leads to an associated drift involving a more democratized
engagement. All of this encourages us towards functioning with our own agendas and
scripts in making sense of the plethora of information choices we now find available, with
a new emphasis upon participation.
If, as Bailey (1992) suggests: ‘Improvisation [is] … the most widely practiced of
all musical activities and the least acknowledged and understood’, why is improvisation
sidelined in music education rather than a celebrated centrepiece? Why does it remain
so little understood? There is a disparity between what we do in the world and what
we teach and of course what we do will largely be affected by what we are taught to
234 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
do. Such a cycle continues, often stemming from unquestioned, underlying assumptions
about ‘what is best’. The extent to which improvisation within music is pervasive and
is to be found across cultures, idioms and styles throughout the world, has far reaching
implications for education. In many ways improvisation may be viewed as synonymous
with creativity. For the purposes of understanding the possible place of free improvisation
in education, it is informative to reflect on practice in different areas in which creativity
and education meet.
Within the UK, education drama is found extensively and the use of improvisation as a
method goes hand in glove with the subject in schools, where drama is pedagogically
employed to ‘look at ourselves and the world around us’. The comparison to music here
being where a process derived from an art form has been interrogated, developed and utilized
for its educational potential. As with drama, the educational agency of improvisation in
music is pedagogically realized via practical, social engagement with an improvisation
process. The reasons why drama found such a place within UK education are numerous.
By the 1950s and 60s, the period in which drama became broadly established beyond being
solely identified in terms of texts and stagecraft, a canon of influential, experimental work
was available: for example Stanislavski (1936), Grotowski (1968), Artuard (1958) and
Brook (1968). Such work pointed towards theatre that transcended the cultural limitations
typified by the evening theatre performance experience, no such canon of work has existed
for us to reflect upon improvisation in music. During the 1960s experimental and political
theatre flourished and the first UK theatre-in-education (TIE) company was established at
the Belgrade Theatre in Coventry (1965) followed by a blossoming of such activity across
the country.
Education’s relationship with music (in this case improvisation), contrasts vividly
with education and art. The discussion of the extent and importance of improvisation
within art, although fascinating, is beyond the scope of this chapter, nevertheless art’s
relationship to education is a noteworthy comparison. Contemporary art practice has been
extraordinarily successful in the UK as celebrated in the media. It is characterized by
experiment, innovation and radical expression that includes the personal and the political.
Contemporary art practice is now regarded as somewhat characteristic of UK culture,
and its relationship to education can be traced to developments within art schools in
the 1960s and 70s. Influential, major art schools, mainly in London, employed practicing,
contemporary artists who in turn regarded the intake more as artists than students. The
characteristic acculturated self-determination of students since that time contributed to the
kind of practices that we are aware of today, made visible in galleries such as Tate Modern.
While music from the UK of the 1960s and 70s remains clearly celebrated throughout the
world, the relationship between such music and education is dissimilar to the experience
in art education.
Learning Free Improvisation in Education 235
There was a revolution in thinking about music, in some quarters during the 1960s
and 1970s that coalesced around the practice that has become known as improvisation,
or free improvisation. Musical activity overtly identified as improvisation (with some
public profile) developed at that time simultaneously, in pockets, in parts of the developed
world (e.g., Berlin, Amsterdam, London, Chicago, New York and Tokyo). Although, as
already mentioned, improvisation has always been present within all musical cultures. An
important swathe of activity occurred in the UK and the writings of notable musicians
Derek Bailey, John Stevens, Cornelius Cardew stand out as important in revealing different
aspects of these musical developments. Bailey’s ‘Improvisation: Its nature and practice
in music’ (1992) surveys improvisation from a personal, musician’s perspective. Bailey
sets out to unpack the term and the activity of improvisation in an attempt at redefinition.
Introducing the notions of idiomatic and non-idiomatic improvisation, in spite of the
semantic shortcomings, has contributed greatly to the awareness of improvisation as a
freestanding musical activity (or non-idiomatic).
An often cited text for teaching in relation to free improvisation, particularly for
newcomers, is ‘Search and Reflect’ (1985). Here drummer John Stevens collated exercises
developed during his involvement with Community Music, London in the 1970s/80s.
Stevens’ influence upon the practice of free improvisation, and many of its major figures,
is considerable.
Cornelius Cardew’s influence is most noticeable through work with the group
AMM (what these initials stands for remains undisclosed). AMM developed their own
‘laminal’ improvisational approach to music making, establishing a strong, lasting group
identity through improvisation. Comparable contemporaries were the Italian Gruppo di
Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza. Cardew’s influence grew from work in composition,
and collaboration with Stockhausen. His political and philosophical commitments being
realized in such works as the graphic score ‘Treatise’, through which he radically realigned
the composer/performer relationship. Such a graphic score can be viewed as an important
stage in development, towards a fuller understanding of improvisation’s potential. Between
composer’s notation and a shift towards performer composing at the point of performance,
through improvisation.
‘New white music’ has been historically assigned as ‘serious,’ ‘art’ etc. with ‘new black
music’ situated as ‘jazz’ and it is within educational institutions that this paradigm is most
evident. As Lewis (1996) describes in ‘Improvised music since 1950’: ‘… the AACM’s
revision of the relationship between composition and improvisation lies on an unstable
fault line between the new black music and the new white music.’ The implication here is
that, certainly for the US, the separation and demarcation of ‘jazz’ music is an expression of
institutional racism. This is echoed by Anthony Braxton’s reflections on negative criticism
of his citing European influences such as Stockhausen in his music, while it remains
unquestioned that white musicians may be, for example, influenced by John Coltrane:
‘I see it as racism.’ (Lock 1984). The 40-year history of Chicago’s Association for the
Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM ‘great black music’) provides an exemplar of
236 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Improvisation does not sit easily within a single educational discipline (Kenny and
Gellrich, 2002). Its interdisciplinary character, while ultimately a strength for the
education of groups and individuals, may have contributed towards the lack of research
development within academia. Improvisation problematises the notion of disciplines,
occurring as it does naturally within and across disciplines. With a focus on investigating
the social value of improvisation, Canada’s Improvisation as Community and Social
Practice (ICASP), a year on year research project since 2004, through the universities
of Guelph, British Columbia and McGill, draws on improvisation in music as a model
while extending its research in improvisation across a number of fields. The scale of
the ICASP project has the capacity to address the diversity of improvisation directly.
Its research areas cover: improvisation, gender and the body; improvisation, law and
justice; improvisation and pedagogy; improvisation and social aesthetics; improvisation
and social policy; improvisation text and media; improvisation and transcultural
understanding. Online publications reflecting these research areas include: George
E Lewis (2008), Keith Sawyer (2008), Sherry Tucker (2008), Deborah Wong (2006),
Graham Lock (2008), Pauline Oliveros (2004), Ursel Schlicht (2008) and Roger Dean
(2006). Established with funding through the Canadian government, the project clearly
prioritises postcolonial theory and feminist perspectives within a North American and
particularly Canadian context.
This research project examines the musicians’ process of free improvisation and
synthesises ideas for development in education. Using a grounded theory approach (Straus
& Corbin, 1998), 14 professional musicians from the UK and US were interviewed in
order to investigate the process of free improvisation. The sample was chosen for their
professional interest in employing improvisation in their practice: in other words they
were identified as improvisers. The researcher/musician conducted semi-structured
interviews and carried out participant observation in three locations: the Bay Area in
California, US, at performances and elsewhere in conjunction with a solo music tour
of the UK and similarly alongside performances in Helsinki, Finland. The participants
were asked to describe their particular way of engaging in improvisation and a set of
prompts was on hand: interviewees were encouraged to take the interview in the direction
they wished. Participant observation centred on 20 performances including: monthly
performances with London Improvisers Orchestra, a large-scale performance involving
Learning Free Improvisation in Education 237
approximately 150 musicians, other large groups, six small group performances across
the three locations and the solo tour. Data was collected by means of tape-recorded
interviews and participant observation recorded by means of note taking and subsequent
diary entries.
Analysis
Findings
Being
K: ‘What I like is that you have to be there – and the music exists just then and there, that’s
the finest thing of it.’
In the course of analysis it became clear that the unifying quality of free improvisation
needed to be overtly made clear within the coding paradigm and that this was an overarching
theme. The features arising from engagement with free improvisation point in the direction,
to a greater or lesser extent, to what is described as being. Being clearly relates to different
philosophical and cultural thinking. It is adopted as a preferred way of encapsulating the
features of free improvisation that have been identified. Within the conception of being, free
improvisation has been found to have the following four features.
238 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
I. Awareness
Throughout the interviews, awareness was referred to and described consistently. Different
stages of awareness were associated with free improvisation. Firstly, there is that which has
been described as of the ‘moment’ and the ‘here and now’. Secondly, it has been possible
for many to express an interest and active involvement in consciously extending this
awareness by different means. For some this has meant daily listening practice, while for
others, meditation, deepening awareness to any given situation, for example doing t’ai chi,
in order that:
This ‘perceiving’ was seen by some as integral to the practice of free improvisation. For
some this thinking extended towards the idea of body as instrument while others located
their practice including the additional demands for listening, within their playing, alone
or with groups. The continuing development of awareness is seen as a strong feature of
the process of free improvisation. The emphasis of awareness can additionally be seen
as a response to the requirements of making music without pre-determined structure, and
descriptions include an emphasis upon the intuitive:
W: ‘Transcending the rational thought process, that’s where it happens for me, being in
that completely intuitive space’.
II. Unknown
The free improvisation form is not pre-determined, all else leads on from there. Openness,
willingness, and allowing for the possibilities of working with that, is a central feature.
Several interviewees emphasised this unknown aspect as important:
Here the ‘unknown’ was interpreted as mystical and the musician’s role as that of conduit, to
make the unknown known. For T the mystical perspective was essential. But even without
the mystical reference, in order to approach free improvisation, an acceptance of, and
working with the unknown is part of the engagement. Allowing for the ‘unknown first’ is
therefore in keeping with free improvisation. The unknown quality was both a challenge and
seen as an ‘exciting and attractive feature’ (SR). The unknown character goes hand in glove
with learning by doing. The utility for education of an approach that draws upon learning by
doing and engages intuitive understanding, emerged from the interviews and the participant
observation diary as a strong feature within the analysis. There is a tension between this and
other approaches to music that was expressed in different ways, for example:
T: ‘If you have a road map that tells you how to get somewhere then fine – when you get
there leave the map and go and do your business – why I’m going there is for some kind of
relationship whether with nature or with some people now that’s the heart business. Leave
the map we’re going to do the heart to heart. That’s the difference between African and
European culture – see we work from the heart, European culture works from the theory –
Learning Free Improvisation in Education 239
so you take theory and you apply it to everything and you clamp it down – if it don’t fit
then they say it ain’t valid.’
The map is reminiscent of written music: ‘leave the map’ suggests improvisation. ‘Map’
also suggests a strategy that will prevent the ‘heart to heart’, a term to describe an honest
exchange and deeper level of communication. It seems for T the ‘heart to heart’ and ‘heart
business’ is the purpose of free improvisation.
One interviewee described the tension between approaches in their attempts to include
free improvisation within a university music course.
H: ‘They don’t see it as a way of taking the shackles off and exploring what the relationships
might be … They want a product … within a recognisable genre and form and that sort of
thing … The notion of doing something that would be ephemeral, that would be interesting
and give food for thought, in terms of an event which happens between people, is kind of
too insubstantial, all too flimsy and naff for them to do with any degree of commitment …
So I dropped it … and then some people said so why can’t we actually do it!’
Here, it is suggested that those familiar with the conventions of a less intuitive approach
to music and learning reject the chance to engage in a different approach required for free
improvisation. But it seems a balance between the theory and practice led individuals to
want to ‘actually do it!’ For university students in a different setting the ‘taking the shackles
off’ was precisely what they were seeking through engagement with free improvisation:
T: ‘… an opening up of a cage I felt I have been in with classical music … a way for me
to finally break out. A kind of release.’
O: ‘ … natural ways to make sound and make music … the frustration makes you want to
break out. I think that’s how all music started, as this kind of playing.’
Here the language used suggests a celebration of the potential of autonomous playing and
also a return to something ‘natural’. It is reminiscent of another interviewee’s comment on
music conventions:
JT: ‘Sometimes you get stuffed up with the different rules, you know, that people before
us have made up.’
This dichotomy between known and unknown dimensions is similar to the mastery/mystery
dichotomy referred to by MacDonald and Wilson (2006) and Wilson and MacDonald
(2005), whereby musicians distinguished between technical knowledge stated as being
required to improvise and soulful, ineffable qualities that were discussed as also being
important for improvisation.
III. Play
‘It is creative apperception more than anything else that makes the individual feel that life
is worth living and the opposite is more compliance.’ ‘It is play that is universal, and that
belongs to health … playing leads into group relationships.’ Winnicott (1999) points to what
240 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
JT: ‘… like being in a playground, you have some toys you can play with and you have
some instruments you can use – it’s like a game and many times it’s like, to have fun.’
The second quote is also from an internationally, highly respected veteran improviser/
composer. Although the performance and music stemming from free improvisation was
taken with great seriousness, the element of play was seen as providing for the process. Play
is cited as desirable for the circumstances of free improvisation.
These two quotes refer to devising a workshop, and ‘conduction’ (conducting improvisation),
with an improvising orchestra. The employment of playfulness, when well understood in
an integrated context, frees the participants for the purposes of free improvisation. For
education we can reflect upon the feature of play in combination with the feature of
awareness described earlier. Free improvisation may offer educational agency in combining
of these two elements. Using game structures, establishing whole group participation,
exploring particular elements of music (for example dynamics, duration, etc.), with
participation as the priority together with the need for fun, play. Once free participation is
established, there is a natural progression towards a focus upon the detail in listening to and
simultaneously creating sound, awareness. With judicious guidance, play and awareness
can continue to work in tandem. There is a view, associated with Montessori education and
elsewhere that very young children in their absorbed state of play are in a condition akin
to meditation. Culturally it is our habit to move the child on to the next thing or activity,
however it is believed within this view that allowing the child to remain for an extended
period is encouraging the development of the facility to learn. Total absorption and playful
enjoyment, may well lead to the facilitation of learning, in the act of free improvisation.
Interviewees have cited meditative practice as directly or indirectly relevant, and regardless,
there remains a connection between the inherently intuitive process involved and practices
that support and enhance that approach.
IV. Social
T: ‘Does it include me or does it not – we’re gonna feel that so you can’t fake it … do they
really care for me as a human being. See, that’s what I want to know.’
The free improvisation form was seen as having a particular social quality. The ‘not pre-
determined’ character leads it to being open ended and by implication inclusive – suggesting
it is there for all in respect to cultural orientation as well as musical experience:
Learning Free Improvisation in Education 241
RM: ‘… in a hospital context – so people come down from the wards … to get a chance
to find out what is improvisation. Let’s look at the very simple signs – so everybody play
a long note – any note you want but play a long note … really place it in the context of
everybody else.’
C: ‘The best thing about contemporary improvisation is its incorporative ability – its
ability to handle difference – its ability to handle remarkable and drastic difference
between performers, between groups and you have the potential to accept the difference
while maintaining your own position which is completely outside – in a manner that’s
constructive and not debilitating to the other people …’
Valuing the importance of the group and the individual’s voice within that, being heard and
at the same time shaping the identity through playing, embodies an additional educational
aspect, an ethical approach:
S: ‘Have your music but allow other’s music to exist … you have to make room for it and
understand that they need to have their own music, I think that’s important.’
The opportunity and potential seems to be there for the possibility of inclusion with all the
social and political implications of that word. The participant observation research involved
performance in a wide variety of settings, from solo to involving around one hundred and
fifty participants, as well as small groups and improvising orchestras. The opportunity
for inclusive action facilitated by the improvisation form was evident. Interestingly, the
largest group (of over 150 participants) contained the least proportion of experienced free
improvisers. Connections between the act of free improvisation and broad educational
aims were voiced. Working with permanently excluded pupils (see pages XXX) the
offer of participation in music stemming from pupils’ own musical interests led to a keen
participation in an education process that had not until then been experienced by many of
these pupils. Increased confidence and trust in turn led to wider involvement in a school in
which they had become no longer alienated and notions of teacher as enemy had become
challenged in the process.
One interviewee, working within higher education, articulated the process as being precisely
about social interactions with the music as a ‘mirror’ of that:
H: ‘…it’s a way of thinking about relationships and how the people in the room are relating
but the mirror side of that is that there might be a piece of music. And so you say these
relationships are the way in which we make a piece of music.’
Two features, enrichments of the above characteristics, which have additional, supportive
qualities of the notion of free improvisation for education, were strongly evidenced
in the analysis. These were healing and spirituality. In articulating perspectives on free
improvisation the idea of healing and therapeutic capabilities occurred in a variety of
242 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Recommendations
From its basis in the characteristics of awareness, unknown, play and social, free
improvisation provides for the development of autonomous learning. The research has
illustrated how, in professional practice through the need for decision making in order to
‘make it happen’ participants introduce their own ‘scores’, parts and ‘scripts’ and these reflect
the life experience, cultural orientation and preferences of those involved. As such, issues
of identity become foregrounded through free improvisation in education and are reflected
in the content: the musical outcomes. Participation in free improvisation in school has been
seen to create high levels of ongoing motivation through engagement (pages XXX) leading
to similarly high levels of cooperation between participants. The engagement with free
improvisation encourages young people to work in co-operation, in balance with ‘thinking
for themselves’. As such, improvisation may be viewed as a desirable and a necessary part
of the educational process. Developing students’ self-reliance in the teaching and learning
setting has far reaching implications, across the curriculum and further afield, and a process
that implicitly contributes to this by means of self-expression is valuable.
In order for free improvisation to become incorporated in higher education, and
elsewhere within education, there needs to be an increased understanding of the potential
of improvisation, and it is intended that this article may begin to contribute towards this.
There is an exponential growth in the performance of improvised music internationally
in Europe, the Americas and Asia that is leading to growing awareness and knowledge of
improvisation practice. Higher education will benefit from the experience of those who have
now been working in the field for many decades. At the same time students are becoming
increasingly aware of the practice of improvisation.
It is clear from the study that the significance of the features to emerge may go beyond the
learning of discreet music skills. Such characteristics can be viewed in relation to personal
and social development and the development of learning skills as well as the development
of such things as the ‘whole school’ ethos. This is relevant for a variety of educational
settings. A specific example of an application of free improvisation in the above sense can
be as a tool in the development of listening skills. Listening as a key ingredient in successful
learning (across the curriculum) can be explored, demonstrated and developed through free
Learning Free Improvisation in Education 243
improvisation. Within the parameters of the ‘target driven’ educational culture there is the
danger of students becoming ‘spoon fed’ and worse, expecting that kind of approach to
teaching (and life) to be the norm. Within the experiential, autonomous learning offered
through free improvisation, an ability to work with the unknown (not pre-determined)
suggests precisely the kind of self-determination and ownership desirable for successful
development in learning. A strange paradigm exists, certainly in the UK. Highly skilled
improvisers, respected professionals working within the educational system, often in higher
education, have developed their skills in improvisation away from the established educational
settings. Although free improvisation can occasionally be found within higher education,
it is not found in earlier education within the UK. Opportunities for training teachers to
participate in free improvisation and explore the potential for themselves will contribute
towards changing this picture (MacDonald & Wilson, 2005). Professional development
opportunities for staff regarding free improvisation will contribute to alleviating the
negative cycle created by what they describe as their own fear of improvisation. Teachers
have been seen to highly value creativity within their role (MacDonald & Byrne, 2005) and
at the same time young people are generally not afraid of improvisation.
Conclusion
References
Allen, S. (2002). Teaching large ensemble music improvisation. Radical pedagogy, 4(1).
Retrieved from radicalpedagogy.icaap.org/content/issue4 1/01 Allen.html.
Artuard, A. (1958). The theatre and its double. New York: Grove Press.
Bailey, B. (1992). Improvisation: Its nature and practice in music. London: The
British Library.
Biasutti, M. & Frezza, L. (2009). Dimensions of music improvisation. Creativity Research
Journal, 21(2), 232–42.
Borgo, D. (2007). Free jazz in the classroom: An ecological approach to music education.
Jazz Perspectives, 1(1), 61–88.
244 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
elizabeth Haddon
the making of a performing musician in the West is the result of events that transpire
between student and teacher in the privacy of the studio lesson ... teachers are the musical
agents, the models, and the motivating forces for their students. (campbell, 1991, p. 276)
Introduction
i begin this chapter by taking Patricia shehan campbell’s statement as a starting point
for an exploration of instrumental teaching and learning in uK higher music education,
focusing on a university rather than conservatoire context. campbell appears to validate an
exclusive relationship between teacher and learner, suggesting that the input of the teacher
has a direct outcome in the formation of a performing musician. However, this places
extreme importance on the teacher-student relationship, the expertise of the teacher and the
willingness and ability of the learner to engage with the teacher’s approach and methods.
But are teachers really so vital? or are other contexts for learning in the higher education
environment equally or perhaps even more significant?
campbell’s focus on the performing musician connects to another assumption regularly
made by institutions: that the outcome of instrumental and vocal learning is expressed (and
assessed) through performance. However, there are many other outcomes of practical learning
which may be unacknowledged or under-developed because of the importance placed on
these foci. for many students, performance can be an externally-imposed objective which
conflicts with their own goals for learning and restricts their development. This chapter
explores learning outside the one-to-one context within higher education through examining
some aspects of practical learning which might be described as ‘hidden’ to teachers and staff.
Background
the emphasis on the one-to-one framework of teaching for instrumental learning seems to
be a virtually uncontested tradition in which the master-apprentice model (Jørgensen, 2000)
or the mentor-friend model (lehmann et al., 2007) are acknowledged to be the main
constructs of the student-teacher relationship. further research on this relationship within
higher music education has been undertaken by gaunt (2011, 2010, 2008), Hanken
(2008), nielsen (2006) and Presland, (2005). gaunt noted that conservatoire teachers
viewed the relationship as ‘parental, friendly, collaboratively curious or like doctor and
patient’ (gaunt, 2008, p. 239). issues of trust, power, motivation and boundaries were also
248 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
highlighted by Gaunt (2011; 2010; 2008). Presland noted the importance of the individual
match between student and teacher and felt that those participating in her research had a
fairly equal relationship in which teachers were aware of the need to enable, rather than
‘provide information to be absorbed wholesale and without question’ (Presland, 2005,
p. 240). However, Gaunt felt that students taking part in her research seemed inclined to
align their views with those of their teacher, which might inhibit the articulation of their
critical thinking and artistic expression (Gaunt, 2010, p. 203). Both Nielsen (2006) and
Presland (2005) noted the importance of teachers’ external activities as performers and
examiners, giving them pedagogical and professional credibility in students’ eyes.
Another area of research concerns aspects relating to teacher approaches and lesson
content (Triantafyllaki, 2010; Gaunt, 2008; Nerland, 2007; Burwell, 2006, 2005, 2003;
Purser, 2005; Young, Burwell & Pickup, 2003; Persson, 1996). Teachers’ approaches
may be mediated by the institution, and although teachers have some autonomy, their
work inevitably is conditioned by the institutional rigours of student assessment and
performance (Triantafyllaki, 2010) and their philosophies are constructed through complex
cultural discourses (Nerland, 2007). Conflicts may emerge from the desire to support
student independence and to achieve effective results within the available contact time
(Burwell, 2005); the difficulties of honesty and impartiality within the intimate one-to-one
relationship (Purser, 2005, p. 287), and tensions arising between ‘instructing and eliciting’
(Burwell 2005, p. 212). Teaching aims included the development of student independence,
musical and technical understanding, critical listening and practice skills (Purser, 2005).
Burwell noted different approaches of vocal and instrumental teachers with the former
focusing more on technique and including metaphorical language to a greater extent than the
latter (Burwell, 2006). Young et al. (2003) found a prevalence of technique and ‘command-
style’ teaching, and Persson (1996) observed a high degree of teacher dominance.
The student viewpoint on one-to-one instrumental and vocal learning in higher
education has been the focus of research by Juuti and Littleton (2010), Venn (2010), Gaunt
(2010), Burt and Mills (2006), Presland (2005), Davies (2004) and Hanken (2004). Burt and
Mills discussed students’ views and expectations of performance teaching and opportunities
on entering higher education, finding that aspirations of studying with high-quality
performers were an important motivation for conservatoire study but also acknowledging
that less famous performers could be highly effective teachers (Burt & Mills, 2006). Venn
(2010) noted that incoming students expected to focus on technique and repertoire and
had to adjust to taking increased responsibility for their own work. Juuti and Littleton
(2010) also examined the difficulties relating to the period of transition when embarking
on conservatoire study in relation to identity. Davies (2004) discussed the implications of
conservatoire students’ views concerning talent, social class and elitism, and Presland (2005)
noted the importance of direct communication between students and teachers, and the need
for teachers to change in relation to students over time. Hanken (2004) also discussed the
teacher-student relationship, noting the implications of power connected to the transition to
professional work through opportunities offered by the teacher, and the difficulties of honest
evaluation by students of their teachers. This resonates with the finding that a student’s awe
of his/her teacher could limit their own initiative and that student dependency can easily
occur in the one-to-one relationship (Gaunt, 2010). Although some research has explored
peer instrumental and vocal learning (Latukefu, 2009; Daniel, 2004), the prevalent focus of
research suggests that the one-to-one framework is still the dominant context for instrumental
and vocal development in higher education institutions. This is confirmed through viewing
information on undergraduate music degrees displayed on university websites.
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 249
The need for more expansive research has been expressed by Jørgensen (2009),
Triantafyllaki (2005) and Odam (2001), but researchers have been slow to explore the
contributions to learning of contexts in which students are involved within the wider
communities of practice both inside and outside institutions. Likewise, educators have
continued to make provision for instrumental and vocal learning through prioritising one-
to-one teaching and providing opportunities for group participation. Wistreich (2008) and
Lebler (2007) have shown that there are viable possibilities for instrumental and vocal
development in other contexts, drawing on what might be described as ‘real-world’ practices
including peer learning and creative collaboration. Educators, particularly in university
music departments, could question whether modelling provision for development on the
conservatoire model (usually with financial limitations restricting the number of individual
lessons) is still appropriate for students who may have very different aims and needs. For
example, there is often an assumption that all undergraduate music students should develop
their instrumental and vocal learning and be assessed through performance. Institutions,
teachers and students may therefore view performance as the main objective for lessons
and practice rather than explore a wider remit. As Bennett (2007) noted, curricula often
fail to reflect the varied aspects of professional musical life that graduates will engage
with. This could be one explanation for the self-motivated exploration of other areas of
development which some students choose to undertake. However, the fact that this operates
largely on an individual basis with little formal endorsement or review means that many
students may lack opportunities to develop a cognitive appraisal of the value of these
diverse learning experiences.
This chapter explores student responses to some contexts that are already present
alongside one-to-one teaching in a UK university music department, and asks whether these
‘hidden’ contexts, often unseen by teachers, might be of higher value than teachers and staff
may realise, and may perhaps not merely support the work of the one-to-one lesson but could
be of greater significance to some students. At the Department of Music, University of York,
UK, undergraduate students are expected to take one-to-one lessons on their principal study
and to participate in at least one ensemble as a course requirement. Tuition is delivered by
peripatetic teachers with varying degrees of involvement in the department. Assessment of
instrumental and vocal development is through annual private performance to a member of
academic staff for Years 1 and 2, and through a public recital for those in Year 3 choosing
this unit. Data for this chapter is taken from student responses to questionnaire surveys;
one generated by the department to gain information about the 2010–2011 undergraduate
student cohort, and the other created by the author to discover more about hidden learning
contexts. A further questionnaire generated data from instrumental and vocal teachers.
Institutions generally set an agenda for students to develop their learning through one-to-one
lessons, participation in formal ensembles and meeting performance targets, and they can
often seem to assume what students want to achieve in this learning. The correlation between
student interest and institutional provision appears to be an unexplored area for research.
Conservatoire students participating in Burt and Mills’ 2006 study articulated general
aspirations to make ‘instrument-specific improvements as well as more general progress’
(Burt & Mills, 2006, p. 56) and looked forward to performance and ensemble opportunities.
In Mills and Smith’s research, peripatetic teachers expressed the view that higher education
250 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
teachers would focus on ‘technique, development of the individual voice, and the use of
a relatively wide repertoire’ (Mills & Smith, 2003, p. 21). However, we have little idea
about students’ own hopes for this learning. In order to gain some idea of student goals,
tuition form responses from the incoming 2010–2011 student cohort of 72 music students
at the University of York were examined. These forms are completed by new students
before commencing study and contain questions designed to elicit responses concerning
achievement, repertoire, practice and teaching, which assist staff in allocating students to
instrumental and vocal teachers. Completed forms were received from all 72 students.
Student Aims
Many students stated aims for their instrumental and vocal learning which reflect their
existing patterns of learning, and this suggests that their prior experiences and their
expectations of university study are perhaps already conditioning these goals. Venn noted
that music students at Lancaster University arrived with ‘minimal expectations’ of what
the performance course would involve (Venn, 2010, p. 19) and expected the patterns of
pre-university to continue with one-to-one lessons, which they believed would help them
improve their technique. The York student cohort of 2010–2011 had all previously received
one-to-one tuition, and although 23 students stated experience of additional group tuition,
this largely consisted of masterclass participation (11 students) and orchestral sectionals
(two students; however, others may have also been involved in sectional rehearsals but
perhaps did not consider them to be group tuition). Other group tuition included musical
theatre workshops (two singers), chamber music coaching (one string player and one
guitarist), and summer school courses (recorder and jazz guitar).
The York students’ aims appeared to be a continuation of previous modes of learning
and included gaining more performing experience and developing confidence (27 students),
expanding repertoire (25), developing technique (22), participating in ensembles (20),
taking another exam or diploma (9), mastering sight-reading (3), developing musical
understanding in general, including analysis and study of musical history (3), and realising
one’s potential (1). Many students may have thought the goals of developing technique and
repertoire too obvious to mention, but even allowing for this, there was considerable variation
in student aspirations. Although 25 students (34.7%) wanted to be able to improve enough to
be able to enter the profession as performers or to study at conservatoire, there were others
who sought different experiences, such as to enjoy playing without any particular goals.
Further objectives included developing skills on a second or third instrument (19
students, some of whom wanted formal tuition on an instrument that they had previously
taught themselves), the development of composing through instrumental learning (14
students), working on classical and jazz improvisation skills (8), and learning to teach
their instrument (3). One student wanted to acquire the skills needed to design practical
workshops, and another hoped to learn many different styles including folk, baroque
and musical theatre. Some students expressed a preference to collaborate with others in
learning, and one also noted an aspiration to develop the skills needed to become a producer
and session musician. No students mentioned the goal of becoming teacher-independent.
This suggests that students do not, at this point, recognise the need to develop independent
learning skills, and reflects our cultural indoctrination of the conflation of instrumental and
vocal development with one-to-one lessons.
One implication of these findings is that there are many student-stated aims which
may be difficult to realise unless actively initiated by the student. For example, as in most
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 251
universities, only a certain number of lessons are funded by the department on the principal
instrument, so financing a second or third study is up to the individual student. Also, even
if teachers are aware of some of these goals, such as developing composing or studio skills
in conjunction with instrumental or vocal study, how well equipped might they be to help
students realise them? Motivation is considerably increased when learners are able to
choose the repertoire they study (Renwick & McPherson, 2002), and learners will be more
motivated if they are able to pursue areas of study in which they are interested. However,
students of this age are unlikely to be aware of all of the potential areas of learning or the
means to develop these, and therefore will benefit from guidance in expanding their learning
to include other contexts and means of development. Institutions could consider negotiating
flexible areas of study with each student, providing periodic discussion and evaluation,
exploring whether goals and provision are developing or restricting learning opportunities.
Discussion of this kind might encourage students to participate in new areas and at the same
time alert institutions to any gaps in their provision for this learning, enabling appraisal of
relevance and encouraging the questioning of provision dictated by tradition.
The disjunction between student aims and institutional provision must be one of the primary
reasons for students’ explorations of other areas of learning outside those officially provided.
There may be discrepancies between the dominant values of the institution and those of the
individual (Jørgensen, 2000, p. 75). Some students may respond by exploring areas not
endorsed by their teacher or the institution, either alone or in collaboration with other students.
They may also desire the freedom to develop their own creative ideas without direction from
an authority figure. Studies of extra-curricular learning have shown that participation in these
contexts provides the opportunity for development of ‘personal growth, community spirit
and musical development’ (Pitts, 2007, p. 163), ‘increased confidence, social networks and
sense of belonging’ (ibid.), a ‘high level of personal investment in, and identification with,
the musical product that emerges’ (McGillen, 2004, p. 279) and strong connections forged
through positive independence (McGillen, 2004). Furthermore, learning in these contexts
plays an important part in the process of enculturation, by which the student becomes
‘literate in a specific cultural idiom’ (Schippers, 2010, p. xvi) as well as in a specific cultural
context – that of departmental life. Creating an identity and sense of belonging to the student
cohort can be facilitated through group participation (Dibben, 2006), which can sustain
motivation as well as promote musical and social skills and feelings of self-achievement
(Kokotsaki & Hallam, 2007). However, in the context of this institution, these hidden
settings which students are involved in cannot be merely described as extra-curricular as
they include both formal and informal contexts which may be unseen by the teacher.
Teacher Awareness
Teachers may often possess a limited awareness of potential contexts for student learning,
particularly if they only teach a small number of students, live at a distance and visit once a
fortnight, as is the case in many university music departments. Gaunt noted that relatively
few of the conservatoire teachers in her research possessed ‘a detailed understanding of
what else students were doing within a course curriculum’ (2008, p. 236). Teachers may be
unable to observe practical learning in the context of academic studies or in other settings
such as workshops and ensembles. For many students, these contexts, hidden to teachers,
252 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
can provide the richest learning experiences. If an institution seeks to develop students’
evaluative abilities in order for them to gain the maximum benefit from diverse opportunities,
an educational shift is needed, not only to encourage the development of learning contexts,
but also to enable staff and teachers to have sufficient understanding of these in order to
facilitate the development of students’ independent learning, versatile musicianship and
enjoyment of practical work. Developing this awareness and understanding amongst
teachers will benefit not only those students with professional performing aspirations but
also those who desire to use their instrumental and vocal experience to inform their work in
other areas, both academic and within the wider community. As Bennett noted, ‘community
cultural development’ makes a valuable contribution to the lives of professional musicians,
and those taking part in her research stressed the necessity of being able to work in multiple
genres as well as the ability to lead workshops: a skill upon which grant funding often
depends (Bennett, 2008, p. 63–4).
In order to discover more about contexts of hidden learning, a questionnaire was devised
and emailed to all undergraduate students at the Music Department at the University of
York in June 2010. In addition to requesting information on the students’ year of study and
instruments studied, the following questions were asked:
1. Thinking about all the different contexts inside and outside the department that
you currently participate in as an instrumentalist/vocalist, which one is the most
significant for the development of your instrumental/vocal learning, and why?
2. Are there any areas of your instrumental/vocal learning that you would describe as
‘hidden’ to your teacher? Please outline.
3. What contribution do these areas make to your instrumental/vocal development?
4. Why do you think they are hidden to your instrumental/vocal teacher?
5. Does your teacher encourage your independent learning, and if so, how?
6. Do you think you need a teacher to develop your instrumental/vocal learning at the
moment? Are there other contexts in which you might learn more productively?
Responses were received from 36 students, of whom 15 were in year 1, 10 in year 2 and 11
in year 3. Their first-study instruments included piano (9 students), jazz piano (1), organ (1),
drum-kit (1), violin (2), cello (3), double bass (1), classical guitar (2), flute (3), clarinet (1),
alto saxophone (1), trumpet (2), recorder (1) and voice (8). Although the sample is very
small, representing just 20.6% of the total undergraduate cohort of 174 students, the data
reveals some interesting insights into students’ evaluation of their learning contexts.
One-to-one lessons were identified as the most significant context for the development of
instrumental/vocal learning by only seven students (four singers, one flautist, one pianist and
one cellist). Two of these singers thought that their teachers helped them to build technical
foundations which could then be applied to other contexts such as ensembles, and lessons
provided a ‘focused session where you can concentrate on your weakest areas’ (year 1:
first study voice). The flautist (year 1) felt that lessons were ‘tailored to my needs’ and the
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 253
cellist (year 3) thought that the teacher was ‘closely monitoring progress and issues relating
to technique’. Of these seven students, three were in their first year, three in their third and
final year, and one was in the second year. This suggests perhaps that the role of a teacher
may be more essential for students in their first year as a means of support, providing a more
regular point of contact than any other member of staff (Burland & Pitts, 2007), and in the
final year to support preparation of an assessed recital.
Although only a small number rated lessons as most significant to their
learning, 23 of the 36 students (63.8%) did feel that they currently needed a teacher.
Students mentioned specific areas of teacher input including technical work (7 students),
support and motivation (6), extending knowledge of repertoire (5), giving criticism and
guidance (5), focusing learning (2) and assisting the consideration of possible career
choices (1). Unsurprisingly, most first-year students stated the need for a teacher:
I think I definitely need a teacher at the moment, because at this stage of learning I do not
think I have developed my technique enough to be able to implement it properly myself,
much less to have the self-discipline needed for completely independent learning. (year
1: first study voice)
Not all second and third year students felt that they needed a teacher, but most thought that
one would help with problems, technique, and provide new ideas and motivation: ‘there is
something about the teacher-pupil relationship that encourages dedication more than most
other things’ (year 2: jazz piano). Three students stated that a teacher was not necessary for
them, although two suggested using a teacher as and when they needed support, for example,
for problem-solving, and to ‘tackle stuff that I can’t do, or that simply doesn’t sound right’
(year 3: drum-kit). Two second-years identified the context of their individual practice as
most significant, with one noting that ‘this is when I can work on things suggested by my
teacher’ (year 3: voice). However, practice was also defined as an arena for the development
of improvisation, composition and harmonic understanding, which suggests a focus on more
independent areas of learning, as outlined by one student who expressed the need for self-
directed revision of ‘the theoretical basics of my instrument’ (year 3: classical guitar). One
other student expressed a self-directed and imaginative approach: ‘I’m currently researching
teachers of Indian improvisation for a fresh perspective on performing’ (year 3: trumpet).
Some students expressed mixed feelings about the value of lessons; one suggested
that ‘if we worked in small ensembles, i.e., quartets, we would learn more than we do
in lessons’ (year 2: trumpet). Another student emphasised the importance of ‘external
workshop teachers who help you approach learning differently, refreshing your outlook on
approaching practice, arranging and performing’ (year 2: guitar). These comments suggest
that a multi-perspective on learning, including contexts beyond the one-to-one lesson,
widens the constructs of practical learning and is viewed positively.
While it might be expected that social contexts such as ensembles would be valued for their
input on students’ second and third instruments, for which no lesson allowance was available
at that time, the fact that these contexts were more important than one-to-one lessons
for 80.5% of the sample on their first study warrants further investigation. In one case,
external organ playing for church services compensated for a lack of department opportunity
(year 3: organ), and involvement in external gigs helped another student develop both playing
254 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
and organisational skills (year 3: drums). A third student (year 1: piano) developed the ability
to ‘learn repertoire carefully and fairly quickly’ through accompanying, which also led to
performance experience. This could be hidden to the teacher: ‘my teacher never sees me
doing any accompanying. My lessons just focus on solo piano pieces, though I rarely perform
as a solo pianist’ (year 3: piano). In social contexts, student independence and autonomy
appear to be developed alongside the ability to work with peers in ensemble settings, most
of which were student-led. These included Chimera (contemporary music group), Gospel
Choir, Opera Society, Guitar Quartet, Recorder Ensemble, and small-band jazz.
Participation in Chimera developed skills in sight-reading, rhythm, range, extended
techniques and reliability: ‘as a string player you really have to learn to be independent
and that your part counts towards the piece (rather than being part of a section)’ (year 2:
cello). Extended techniques, sight-reading skills, knowledge and enjoyment of repertoire
were also developed through the staff-led Symphony Orchestra. Repertoire knowledge was
extended through the staff-led Baroque Ensemble and the Recorder Ensemble. Students
emphasised the value of groups in enabling ‘an ever-developing ensemble awareness which
I can’t get from individual lessons’ (year 3: classical guitar), ‘learning new techniques and
ways of playing’ (year 1: alto saxophone), ‘learning tuning and blend’ (year 2: voice),
working ‘with different singers who can contribute to my learning’ (year 2: voice), and felt
that this environment was ‘good preparation for the “real world” of singing’ (year 2: voice).
In jazz ensembles the understanding of the demands of different instruments gained from
the peer learning context enabled greater sophistication as an arranger and awareness as a
performer: one student noted working ‘very closely with other musicians [from whom] I am
constantly learning in terms of improvisation techniques and arrangements’ (year 3: voice).
Ensembles appeared to facilitate both individual development and group skills
simultaneously: ‘ensemble playing … improves your listening capacities and tests whether
you can develop your technique whilst dealing with joint music-making, improving your
musicianship and professionalism’ (year 2: cello). For another student (year 1: flute)
‘holding a relatively exposed position in several student ensembles’ led to improved
concentration and also provided the catalyst for work on performance anxiety. Two
students who participated in the music education group (MEG) and in Gospel Choir made
connections to metacognitive and pedagogic understanding as well as to specific skills:
‘within the department MEG has allowed me to think more about how people learn in order
to teach and has helped me look at how I expect myself to learn’ (year 1: voice). Gospel
Choir provided opportunities to ‘develop teaching skills – develop/stretch my own singing
ability – conduct … both large and small singing groups – gain experience in accompanying
a choir’ (year 3: violin). These contexts provide far-reaching benefits relating to both first
and second study instruments and demonstrate the power of the collaborative learning
environment provided by student-led ensembles. Participation in ensembles may also
enable strong identification with the music, particularly if it is selected by students, thereby
increasing their commitment: ‘choosing the right repertoire is important to keep your love
and interest in the voice/instrument’ (year 2: guitar). Another student described playing
piano ‘in rock and jazz bands outside university’, saying that ‘they remind me of my love
for the instrument. Playing piano can be quite dull when it consists of only playing on
your own and playing in classical ensembles is a rare opportunity’ (year 3: piano). These
experiences may be highly rewarding: ‘ensemble work has allowed me to rediscover my
love of the voice and the repertoire associated with it’ (year 2: piano).
In addition to this sense of a motivating emotional connection, student comments also
provide evidence of the development of a range of skills through group work: leadership
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 255
and facilitative abilities are promoted; areas of musicianship such as listening, tuning and
blending develop along with technical expertise; improved sight-reading, performance skills
and increased knowledge of repertoire also occur. The peer setting seems to connect to a
‘real-world’ concept of music-making, which may activate a motivating sense of ownership
and involvement, as emphasised in research by Green, 2002. Peer presence also appeared
to positively motivate students to develop their skills. This complements the findings that
students prepared more assiduously for peer assessment than for staff assessment (Hunter &
Russ, 1996), and that students receiving group piano teaching worked to keep up with
the group and peer expectations (Daniel, 2004). Finally, as noted above, metacognitive
skills develop through contemplation of the learning process, both through considering
self-development as well as the development of others in the shared learning context. For a
large proportion of these students, the most significant learning contexts appear to be those
involving membership of a community of peer learners. Teachers in this department, as in
many others, often have no contact with these specific learning communities as they are not
involved in rehearsals or ensemble meetings, and they may also be unable to witness the
formal or informal performance outputs of these environments. Therefore, these contexts
could be described as ‘hidden’: unseen by teachers, and operating on a continuum ranging
between staff-led and peer-led, meaning that they cannot simply be defined as informal or
extra-curricular learning.
Students were asked to outline any areas of their instrumental/vocal learning that they
would describe as ‘hidden’ to their teacher, and to explain the contribution of these areas to
their instrumental/vocal development and suggest why their teachers might not be aware of
them. Thirteen students felt that no areas of their instrumental/vocal learning were hidden to
their teachers. Three of these students had already identified lessons as their most significant
learning context, and another had stated that practice was most important. Of the remaining
nine students, two gave no details, but seven identified ensembles as their most significant
learning context. However, their teachers were not involved in the ensembles. This suggests
that the degree to which learning is hidden might depend on the extent of student-teacher
communication, as one student observed: ‘I think some areas can remain hidden to your
teacher if you do not communicate with them as to what you are undertaking outside of
lessons’ (year 2: piano). This view was expanded by another student: ‘my teacher and I talk
about the groups and other activities with which I’m involved, including what I’m working
on in them … but she doesn’t necessarily know what skills I’m developing through them …
or what else I’ve been exposed to’ (year 1: flute).
The fact that only one student mentioned working with a teacher on some ensemble
(duet) music suggests that learning areas may be compartmentalised into those involving a
teacher and those outside the one-to-one context. Some students kept those areas separate
because of teacher limitations: ‘continuo playing is very much learnt “on the job” and is
not a strength of my teacher’ (year 3: organ). Another student noted: ‘my main interest is
improvisation, which has never been a speciality of any of my teachers’ (year 3: trumpet).
Likewise, ‘small solo performances outside of term time’ (year 1: flute) were unseen by
the teacher and might not feature music prepared in lessons. These activities could be
highly significant: ‘Finding creative ways of performing is of far more interest to me than
simply playing written music. I suppose it’s what motivates me to carry on playing’ (year 3:
trumpet). Compositional activities could also be hidden:
256 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Another student noted that composition ‘isn’t purposefully hidden, just have never
mentioned it’ (year 2: piano). These comments point to the issue of student-teacher
communication – there needs to be space, interest and openness for the student to feel able
to talk to the teacher about other learning. Two students suggested creating structures such
as ‘an action plan for the year’ (year 1: voice) and ‘a more formal system to aid the creation
of individual aims for both the student and the teacher’ (year 1: voice). This suggests a
dialogical process, and would perhaps make it easier for students to express their goals,
and for teachers to assess how well they can meet these needs, perhaps considering the
expansion of teaching resources to include additional personnel.
It might be that teachers do not necessarily enquire about students’ involvement in
other contexts; that they may be reluctant to acknowledge their significance, or perhaps
perceive them as threatening to the work undertaken in lessons: ‘my teacher thinks that
these skills [new music and improvisation] detract time away from my “practice” time. So
she isn’t too keen on it!’ (year 2: cello). This student placed a high value on these activities:
‘they are extremely important to my growth as an instrumentalist and as a musician. They
make me listen to music in a different way. Not to recreating a sound that’s on the page, but
just by creating the sound afresh’. This statement suggests that these activities promote the
development of a musical understanding and way of working that could lead to a highly
creative approach, but this is perhaps not compatible with the teacher’s aims and methods.
Another student’s interest in experimentation also created more creative and personal
connections with the music, relating to ‘how I can put my own take on things’ (year 1:
voice), which was achieved by ‘trying to do things differently from the way I am taught to
do things (whether it be technique or learning a piece or anything else)’. Hidden learning
might be a means to escape teacher-control and achieve some degree of musical freedom,
experimenting and personalising a learner’s approach.
For two first-year students, hidden learning related to their perceptions of their abilities
as learners in the lesson context. This could involve expression of a ‘real’, more capable self
which the teacher might not witness: ‘I am a great player but I get ridiculous anxiety when I
try to play to my teacher. I think she thinks I am not very good’ (year 1: alto saxophone). For
the other student, hidden learning referred to weaknesses as a learner relating to ‘most of
my learning processes which aren’t accurate or particularly thorough. Also, the slow rate of
my learning and small repertoire. They shape the lesson’ (year 1: piano). The student added
‘if everyone knew, I’d feel quite ashamed of them’. In both these cases, students appear to
be having difficulty reconciling the demands of the lesson situation with their own abilities
and self-view as learners.
Several students viewed lessons as focused on solo pieces and ‘forming a good technical
basis’ (year 3: trumpet), and thought that exploration might be limited as ‘there is not so
much time in lessons, with all their concerns of personal technical development and specific
repertoire learning’ (year 2: cello). Not only do teachers appear to have an agenda for
what should be learnt, but students also perceive that teachers may have less than positive
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 257
attitudes to musical learning outside of lessons. One student noted that Gospel Choir ‘has
helped me in terms of ear training, for example, maintaining a line at a consistent interval
above another part’ (year 1: voice). However, the student noted that Gospel Choir music ‘is
taught as call and response so I’m unsure whether my teacher would see this as a valuable
contribution to my vocal development’. Despite benefits such as introducing the student to
different warm ups and learning a new style by ear, the student felt that because the teacher
was ‘classically trained I think she would see this as far less important than other choirs’.
This suggests that students’ perceptions of teachers’ attitudes may lead to a lack of student-
teacher communication and compartmentalisation of learning activities.
Independent Learning
from that particular teacher. A more expansive approach was noted by another student who
felt that his/her teacher ‘encourages you to play as much and as often as possible to develop
confidence and skills that cannot be taught’ (year 3: cello). This comment suggests that
there are aspects of learning that develop outside the one-to-one context. If instrumental
learning is conceptualised as concerning the holistic development of the musician in
preparation for participation in many different contexts, the openness of the teacher to
other contexts is essential, and their encouragement of participation would probably be
welcomed by students.
Compartmentalisation of Learning
In terms of overall learning, the student responses suggest that teachers may not be aware of
the extent of learning outside the one-to-one context and the benefits to individual students.
Compartmentalisation of learning activities may occur because these are not compatible
with teacher expertise or interests, or because they provide a means to explore areas outside
the teacher’s control. The student is the only person aware of the full extent of learning
contexts with which they interact, but do students manage to develop an understanding
of how these individual parts might relate to their learning as a whole? Only two students
articulated a more holistic understanding of this issue. These were both third-year students
specialising in jazz (a singer and a drummer). They appeared to assume responsibility for
their learning and both expressed awareness as to how they could integrate knowledge
from different contexts. Perhaps this is because jazz learning often involves a large amount
of peer and self-directed learning, and also because until recently, jazz has largely been
outside the classical agenda in which learners are conditioned to comply with the pass/fail
mentality often encouraged by the pursuit of examination goals.
The singer outlined how aspects of classical vocal work undertaken in various
department ensembles and also within the context of academic work might inform jazz
singing: ‘so much is transferable even if they seem unrelated on the surface’ (year 3: voice).
This student noted that these areas were not necessarily ‘hidden’, but merely lay outside
his/her teacher’s interest. This student appears to have taken responsibility for linking
learning from various contexts to not only keep ‘certain areas of my voice trained that
aren’t necessarily used regularly in the jazz that I do’ but also to ‘train my ability to project
emotions and characterise music onstage which can definitely be used in all kinds of vocal
performance’. The drummer’s comments suggest a rare perception of how his/her teacher
might regard hidden learning:
There are lots of areas of my playing that my teacher has never heard, but he doesn’t
necessarily need to. He not only recognises this, but encourages this, as his prime role is to
help me develop the things that I can’t already do. (year 3: drum-kit)
This student thought that gigs and practice would be hidden to the teacher, and felt that the
teacher ‘recognises that both of these things are personal experiences that help shape the
way you play in future, so the teacher being there isn’t necessarily of benefit’. However,
it was noted that ‘recording these and getting feedback at a later date may be a way these
hidden aspects could become of use’. This was the only comment relating to feedback,
which suggests that students could benefit from considering how they might assess the
contributions of different learning contexts to make sense of their learning as a whole,
rather than as separated, individual units.
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 259
In order to achieve some comparison between students’ and teacher’s views, a similar
questionnaire was devised and emailed to all 36 instrumental and vocal teachers working in
the department. The following questions were asked:
This questionnaire had a disappointing return of just six responses, with one of those
stating that the teacher could not comment as he/she was not in the department enough to
have an informed opinion. However, the relative opacity of the questions admittedly made
responses difficult.
Of the five teachers who gave answers to the questionnaire, just two identified various
contexts where hidden learning could take place. These included situations where students
worked with other teachers who might not necessarily be ‘disclosed to the department
or to their department instrumental teachers’ as well as busking, accompanying, playing
background music, ensemble participation, performing in church and in university lunchtime
concerts, learning in the academic project context, and teaching peers, which ‘can help
them develop learning techniques and to analyse their own playing and practice methods’.
Teachers felt that a variety of factors might mean that learning was hidden. These could
include the frequency of the teacher’s visits to the department and the teacher-student
relationship created through the degree of student-teacher communication. One teacher
noted that ‘the teacher is dependent on the student for the information’. However, another
teacher’s observation that ‘some teachers do not wish to have anything to do with anything
other than playing the dots on the page in front of the student!’ suggests that other factors
such as teacher openness and time constraints all play a part in communication.
Communication could be impeded by perceptions of value judgements. One teacher
noted that some students ‘may also feel that the fact they are playing in one of the less
prestigious ensembles suggests they are “not good enough” for symphony orchestra etc., so
will not mention it’. It was also speculated that students participating in alternative ensembles
‘may also feel (probably mistakenly!) that their teacher will not be sympathetic to the type of
performance they are doing’. Students could perhaps feel that some ensembles lacked ‘the
“kudos” of the main department ensembles’ and therefore not mention their involvement to
teachers. However, further comments from one teacher showed that reassurance would be
given to emphasise the value of any ensemble and performance opportunity, including those
on second/third study instruments. These comments complement the findings of Hanken
(2004), who explored student feedback on teachers and found reluctance, particularly
260 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
among female students, to give honest evaluations of their teachers for ‘fear of hurting
a teacher’s feelings; fear of reprisals; and conflicting role expectations’ (Hanken, 2004,
p. 287). This would suggest that teachers might be advised to take a proactive stance on
disclosing positive feelings on the value of other opportunities so that students will feel able
to discuss these with their teachers.
Learning Outcomes
Teachers felt that there were differences between learning in the one-to-one context and
in other situations: ‘one-to-one teaching necessarily focuses on individual technique and
musicianship. Intonation, listening, response benefits enormously from ensemble playing’.
However, the contexts of hidden learning ‘can also help the student to understand the
reasons for developing their technique, tonal projection etc., which may not always be
apparent in the context of a lesson’. When asked whether one-to-one or the hidden contexts
were more important to student instrumental/vocal development, teachers were open to the
contribution of both areas, noting that ‘probably one-to-one [is more important], but both
are necessary’ and ‘I feel they complement each other and are equally important, perhaps
at different times one more than the other depending on the situation’. Other comments
showed that teachers recognised the value of student motivation: ‘student commitment is
the most important part of the development – everything else is secondary’. Another teacher
noted that:
I feel that principal study tuition provides the cornerstone of any pupil’s development.
We are providing the foundations but in many ways the student must become almost self-
taught and learn to solve problems in a way that works best for them as they have so little
contact time with principal study tutors.
This suggests that a balance of tuition and self-motivated independent learning is important,
but teachers may view independent learning somewhat differently from students. The
comment that ‘I would ‘encourage all my pupils to seek other opinions and read around the
instrument in any way possible, although I would prefer to be aware of this’ suggests that
the teacher may prefer an element of control over the student’s learning, whereas students
may desire greater autonomy.
This chapter has considered hidden learning in relation to three aspects: the aspirations
of incoming students to this particular music department, the realities expressed by a
sample of current students, and the views of some of the department’s instrumental/
vocal teachers. While the sample sizes of the current students and teachers are small, the
responses nevertheless reveal useful insights into aspects of teaching and learning at this
particular institution.
Incoming students expressed a range of aspirations for their instrumental/vocal learning.
These embraced diverse genres to include connections with composition, pedagogy,
workshop leading, and developing the skills to become a producer and session musician.
These students mentioned individual and collaborative learning and extending their skills
on more than one instrument. However, the realities of learning expressed by current
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 261
students suggest that the dominance of technique and repertoire in the one-to-one lesson
leaves little time for addressing other areas, and that development on second and third
study instruments is only possible through self-funded lessons and ensemble participation.
The current students’ responses also revealed that ensemble participation and other social
contexts such as accompanying and external concert performance could compensate for
a lack of department opportunity. These contexts developed a range of skills including
technique, musicianship, peer learning, leadership and teaching, as well as renewing a love
of the instrument and repertoire and providing motivation. The lack of teacher involvement
in these contexts means that this learning may be hidden to teachers.
While the majority of current students in this sample felt that their teachers would
encourage independent learning, they appeared to feel that their teachers would align this
learning with preparation and practice for one-to-one lessons rather than to other contexts.
Teachers in this department, as in most institutions, are required to prepare students for
assessment through performance, and therefore students may feel that teachers inevitably
represent some of the dominant values of the institution, which are also reinforced through
the provision and repertoire of departmental ensembles. Hidden learning can occur when
students want to bypass the dominant norms and explore other music in different settings,
or even develop work on the same music but with different personnel. The current students’
responses mentioned their interest in the development of composition, continuo playing,
jazz and improvisation, and also noted that these were not compatible with the expertise of
their one-to-one teachers.
The teachers’ responses indicate a positive view of other student learning activities
outside the one-to-one lesson which could be hidden to them. However, teachers also
noted that students might perceive them to be making value judgements about the different
contexts for participation, and both current students and teachers noted that the extent
to which learning was hidden depended on student-teacher communication. While one
teacher felt that teachers were dependent on students for information, students felt that their
teachers’ attitudes could lead to a lack of communication. Therefore, the extent to which
teachers are open and non-judgemental is crucial. If students cannot discuss other learning
contexts with their teacher, this learning is likely to be hidden, and compartmentalised. This
places the onus on students to evaluate different areas of learning. In this research only two
students articulated an understanding of aspects of transferable learning.
These findings suggest that hidden learning may occur in response to discrepancies
between student aspirations, interests and institutional provision, and that it is connected
to students’ perceptions of teachers’ priorities for lesson content, teachers’ views of other
areas of learning, and teacher-student communication. In order to facilitate the skills
which will benefit the development of musicians able to engage with and enjoy a portfolio
career, which is recognised to be an increasingly likely option for graduating students
(Bennett, 2007), examining areas of hidden learning to evaluate their contribution to student
development would be beneficial. Furthermore, the insights gained through this process
would be valuable to institutions in terms of assessing and developing their provision for
instrumental/vocal learning.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to students, teachers and staff at the Music Department, University of York.
262 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
References
Bennett, D. (2007). Utopia for music performance graduates. Is it achievable, and how
should it be defined? British Journal of Music Education, 24(2), 179–89.
Bennett, D. (2008). Portfolio careers and the conservatoire. In D. Bennett & M. Hannan
(Eds), Inside, outside, downside, up: Conservatory training and musicians’ work
(pp. 61–72). Perth: Black Swan Press.
Burland, K. & Pitts, S. (2007). Becoming a music student: Investigating the skills and
attitudes of students beginning a music degree. Arts and Humanities in Higher
Education, 6(3), 289–308.
Burt, R. & Mills, J. (2006). Taking the plunge: The hopes and fears of students as they begin
music college. British Journal of Music Education, 23(1), 51–73.
Burwell, K. (2003). Speaking of instrumental and vocal teaching. An investigation of
dialogue in instrumental and vocal lessons, in higher education. Paper presented to
the Conference for Instrumental and Vocal Teachers, Royal Northern College of Music,
Manchester, 17 September.
Burwell, K. (2005). A degree of independence: Teachers’ approaches to instrumental tuition
in a university college. British Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 199–215.
Burwell, K. (2006). On musicians and singers. An investigation of different approaches
taken by instrumental and vocal teachers in higher education. Music Education
Research, 8(3), 331–47.
Campbell, P. S. (1991). Lessons from the World. New York: Schirmer Books.
Daniel, R. (2004). Innovations in piano teaching: A small-group model for the tertiary level.
Music Education Research, 6(4), 23–43.
Davies, A. (2004). Preparing professional performers: Music students’ perceptions and
experiences of the learning process at Birmingham Conservatoire. International
Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 17(6), 803–21.
Dibben, N. (2006). The socio-cultural and learning experiences of music students in a
British university. British Journal of Music Education, 23(1), 91–116.
Gaunt, H. (2008). One-to-one tuition in a conservatoire: The perceptions of instrumental
and vocal teachers. Psychology of Music, 36(2), 215–45.
Gaunt, H. (2010). One-to-one tuition in a conservatoire: The perceptions of instrumental
and vocal students. Psychology of Music, 38(2), 178–208.
Gaunt, H. (2011). Understanding the one-to-one relationship in instrumental/vocal tuition
in higher education: Comparing student and teacher perceptions. British Journal of
Music Education, 28(2), 159–79.
Hanken, I. M. (2004). The fears and joys of new forms of investigation into teaching:
Student evaluation of instrumental teaching. In J. W. Davidson (Ed.), The music
practitioner: Research for the music performer, teacher and listener (pp. 285–94).
Aldershot: Ashgate.
Hanken, I. M. (2008). Using student evaluation of teaching as a means for improving
instrumental teaching. In D. Bennett & M. Hannan (Eds), Inside, outside, downside,
up: Conservatoire training and musicians’ work (pp. 194–204). Perth: Black Swan Press.
Hunter, D. & Russ, M. (1996). Peer assessment in performance studies. British Journal of
Music Education, 13(1), 67–78.
Jørgensen, H. (2000). Student learning in higher instrumental education: Who is responsible?
British Journal of Music Education, 17(1), 67–77.
Hidden Instrumental and Vocal Learning 263
Jørgensen, H. (2009). Research into higher music education: An overview from a quality
improvement perspective. Oslo: Novus Press.
Juuti, S. & Littleton, K. (2010). Musical identities in transition: Solo-piano students’
accounts of entering the academy. Psychology of Music, 38(4), 481–97.
Kokotsaki, D. & Hallam, S. (2007). Higher education music students’ perceptions of the
benefits of participative music making. Music Education Research, 9(1), 93–109.
Latukefu, L. (2009). Peer learning and reflection: Strategies developed by vocal students in a
transforming tertiary setting. International Journal of Music Education, 27(2), 128–42.
Lebler, D. (2007). Student-as-master? Reflections on a learning innovation in popular
music pedagogy. International Journal of Music Education, 25(3), 205–21.
Lehmann, A. C., Sloboda, J. A. & Woody, R. H. (2007). Psychology for musicians:
Understanding and acquiring the skills. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
McGillen, C. W. (2004). In conversation with Sarah and Matt: Perspectives on creating and
performing original music. British Journal of Music Education, 21(3), 279–93.
Mills, J. & Smith, J. (2003). Teachers’ beliefs about effective instrumental teaching in
schools and higher education. British Journal of Music Education, 20(1), 5–27.
Nerland, M. (2007). One-to-one teaching as cultural practice: Two case studies from an
academy of music. Music Education Research, 9(3), 399–416.
Nielsen, K. (2006). Apprenticeship at the Academy of Music. International Journal of
Education and the Arts, 7(4), 1–15.
Odam, G. (2001). Research in the arts: Issues in the development of new and relevant
techniques of arts research in music, the arts and arts education. Music Education
Research, 3(1), 77–86.
Persson, R. (1996). Brilliant performers as teachers: A case study of commonsense teaching
in a conservatoire setting. International Journal of Music Education, 28, 25–36.
Pitts, S. E. (2007). Anything goes: A case study of extra-curricular musical participation in
an English secondary school. Music Education Research, 9(1), 145–65.
Presland, C. (2005). Conservatoire student and instrumental professor: The student
perspective on a complex relationship. British Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 237–48.
Purser, D. (2005). Performers as teachers: Exploring the teaching approaches of instrumental
teachers in conservatoires. British Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 287–98.
Renwick, J. M. & McPherson, G. E. (2002). Interest and choice: Student-selected repertoire
and its effect on practicing behaviour. British Journal of Music Education, 19(2), 173–88.
Schippers, H. (2010). Facing the music: Shaping music education from a global perspective.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Triantafyllaki, A. (2005). A call for more instrumental music teaching research. Music
Education Research, 7(3), 383–7.
Triantafyllaki, A. (2010). Performance teachers’ identity and professional knowledge in
advanced music teaching. Music Education Research, 12(1), 71–87.
Venn, E. (2010). Music performance tuition in higher education: Student expectations.
PALATINE Development Award Report. Retrieved from http://www.heacademy.ac.uk/
assets/documents/subjects/palatine/Music-performance-tuition-in-HE.pdf.
Wistreich, R. (2008). Teaching and assessing collective performance in a university music
department. Report for PALATINE. Retrieved from <http://www.heacademy.ac.uk/
resources/detail/subjects/palatine/starting-out-in-music>.
Young, V., Burwell, K. & Pickup, D. (2003). Areas of study and teaching strategies
in instrumental teaching: A case study research project. Music Education
Research, 5(2), 139–55.
This page has been left blank intentionally
chapter 16
learning to Be a Professional singer
Introduction
Singing Pedagogy
Why should the teacher of singing need any new information? After all, great singers
have existed for hundreds of years, and the vocal instrument has not undergone any major
change. … to contend seriously for the respect of informed minds, they must be based on
factual, although perhaps as yet incomplete, information. (r. Miller, 1996, p. 225)
and the perception of how it was produced by both teacher and student, offer additional
difficulties in the singing studio (Entwistle & Smith, 2002). It would therefore be highly
beneficial if clear and objective scientific language is used as verbal feedback to teach
singing function, whereas poetic and imaginative language could be applied to teach artistic
communication. Singing pedagogues like Garcia (1847), Vennard (1967), Burgin (1973),
Monahan (1978) and Miller (1977, 1986), strongly believed that scientific knowledge
of the voice is essential to a singing teacher. However, it seems that nowadays, there
are still some teaching models that use inadequate verbal feedback, lacking on scientific
supporting evidence. For example, from evaluating voice pedagogy at tertiary Australian
universities, singing teachers were found to be unfamiliar with voice physiology and
acoustics (Callaghan, 1998). With the current available information provided by different
disciplines focussing on the understanding of voice function, it is naturally expected
that singing teachers of today will be well acquainted with the basic principles of voice
production. Both scientists and singing teachers often jointly discuss research findings and
their applicability to efficient teaching and singing. Well-attended scientific international
meetings have proliferated, such as: (i) the Annual Symposium Care of the Professional
Voice (initiated by The Voice Foundation, in 1969, it is an annual symposium held in
Philadelphia); (ii) the International Voice Symposium in Salzburg (annual symposium
held in Salzburg since 1986); (iii) the Annual Pacific Voice Conference (started in 1987)
(Sataloff et al., 2007); the World Voice Consortium Meeting (started in 1995 in Oporto,
Portugal); and (v) the Pan European Voice Conference (started in London in 1995). Vocal
pedagogy and research outcomes have been discussed also in workshops organized by
voice associations all over the world, such as: (i) the European Voice Teachers Association
(EVTA, founded in 1989); (ii) the National Association of Teachers of Singing (NATS, in
the US, created in 1976); (iii) the British Voice Association (BVA, founded in 1991); and
(iv) the Association of Teachers of Singing (AOTOS) in the UK (founded in 1975). Summer
courses are also available in Europe and in the US. Examples of such successful initiatives
are the Function of the Singing Voice, organised by Johan Sundberg at KTH in Sweden, and
the Summer Vocology Institute, organised by Ingo Titze at the National Centre for Voice and
Speech in USA. Moreover, the technological development occurring over the past 30 years,
transformed vocal pedagogy into an interdisciplinary model of artistic education. A set of
different computer hardware and software (in some cases freeware), and other educational
tools to assist informed teaching are available, allowing: (i) the visualisation of breathing
patterns in singing (Thomasson, 2003); (ii) larynx real-time images during singing (Larson
et al., 1995); non-invasive methods of displaying vocal folds vibratory behaviours during
phonation (Baken, 1992; Howard, 1995); (iii) assessment of vocal load and fatigue (Staloff
et al., 2007; Titze et al., 2007); (iv) modelling the vocal tract and articulatory settings
during singing (Echternach et al., 2008; Echternach et al., 2010); and (v) real-time display
of voice acoustical characteristics (Welch et al., 2005; Callaghan et al., 2001). This real-
time feedback is the most recent developed teaching tool and has been found to improve the
teaching/learning process based on repetition. As the student receives quantitative feedback
of a given vocal behaviour, subsequent responses are almost immediately influenced,
leading to the completion of more learning cycles (Howard et al., 2004). ‘… Anything
that can assist the learning process in the provision of more robust, less ambiguous and
easily understandable feedback to both teacher and student would seem to be worthwhile’
(Welch et al., 2005: 227). Real-time feedback also contributes to promote attention,
interest and emotional expressivity in performance (Juslin et al., 2004) and assists in the
development of a musical identity (Hargreaves et al., 2002). Useful examples of real-time
268 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
feedback software are: Wavesurfer, RTsect (Svante Granqvist) Overtone analyser (Sygyt
software), VoceVista (Don Miller), SpeechStudio (Adrian Fourcin, Laryngograph®), Sing &
See (University of Sydney), and WinSingad: software for voice training (David Howard)
(Howard & Welch, 1993; Welch et al., 1989). Literature on effective use of technology in
the singing studio is also available (see for example Nair, 1999; Miller, 2008); here, only a
brief overview of such use is provided.
WaveSurfer is free available from KTH Speech, Music and Hearing Department,
Sweden (http://www.speech.kth.se/wavesurfer/). It displays spectrographic representations
of the sound in three-dimensions (amplitude/frequency/time). Usually, time is displayed
along the horizontal axis and frequency along the vertical axis. Intensity corresponds to the
darkness of the frequency bands; stronger energy (i.e., greater intensity) corresponds to a
darker frequency, whereas more faith colours correspond to frequency bands with weaker
energy (Howard & Murphy, 2008). Using a wide band spectrogram (i.e., applying a time
window of about 3ms), both teacher and student can visualise formant frequency regions
the dark coloured horizontal lines (or simply black, for black and white spectrograms).
They indicate the vicinity of a given formant, reflecting certain vocal tract configurations,
achieved according to specific articulatory gestures. Palatal moving of the tongue for the
production of the vowel /i/ lowers the first formant (F1) and raises the second one (F2),
whereas a pharyngeal movement of the tongue for the production of the vowel /a/ raises F1
and lowers F2. Figure 16.1 displays a wide band spectrogram of different vowels, showing
F1 and F2 regions in dark grey and light grey, respectively (Lindblom et al., 2007). It can
also be observed the singer’s formant cluster, resulting from the singer’s ability of learning
resonance modification strategies (Sundberg, 1987). Male singers lower the larynx, and
widen the pharyngeal wall, the laryngeal ventricle and the sinus piriformes to cluster
F3, F4 and F5. Acoustically, this physiological event produces a boost in the spectrum
energy around 2500–3500Hz (depending on the singer’s voice classification) (Lindblom
et al., 2007), precisely in the middle of the region where the human ear is most sensible
(1KHz–4KHz) (Titze, 2000).
Modifications of the vocal tract have a direct impact on the singer’s voice quality, as the
voice is the only musical instrument in which articulation also affects resonance (Lindblom
et al., 2007). Lengthening of the vocal tract lowers uniformly all formant frequencies,
whereas shortening the vocal tract raises all frequencies uniformly (Sundberg, 1987).
Lowering the larynx and protruding the lips may lead to an increase of 10% of vocal
tract length (Titze, 2000); raising the larynx and spreading the lips may, on the contrary,
Learning to Be a Professional Singer 269
Fig. 16.2 Spectrum of the vowel /e/ sung by a baritone, displaying the frequency
and respective intensity of each harmonic partial. H1 corresponds to the
first harmonic partial of the sound (thus, its frequency corresponds to
the fundamental frequency), H2 and H3 to the second and to the third
harmonic partials, respectively. On the left: resonant strategies applied by
the singer when singing a high note (G4 @ 392 Hz) in a classical mode;
on the right: resonant strategies applied by the same singer singing the
same note, but when singing in a non-classical mode
decrease vocal tract length (Lindblom et al., 2007). Classically trained singers are
masters at applying different resonance strategies to achieve different sound qualities and
intensities. With increasing pitch, sopranos increase larynx height; as pitch continuous to
rise, they further shorten the vocal tract by lowering the jaw. This is needed to avoid cases
in which the fundamental frequency (F0) is higher than F1, as this situation would lead
to vocal vibratory instabilities (Sundberg, 1987). Spectrograms can be regarded as inner
mirrors of the voice, at the level of the mouth opening, as they can display subtle vocal
tract modifications. Figure 16.2 represents a spectrum, i.e., a graphical representation of
amplitude against frequency. In this case, each peak corresponds to an individual harmonic
partial (Howard & Murphy, 2008). This spectrum was obtained using the free software
RTsect (by Svante Granqvist), downloadable from Tolvan Data XII (http://www.tolvan.
com/index.php?page=/rtsect/rtsect.php). The spectrum is of a baritone sustaining a high
note (G4 @ 392 Hz), applying two different resonant strategies: classical (left) and non-
classical (right) (Sundberg, Lã & Gill, 2013). It can be observed that the first three harmonic
partials (H1, H2 and H3) show completely different frequency amplitudes: for the classical
mode of singing, H3 and H2 possess a similar intensity, whereas for the non-classical mode,
H2 is the dominant harmonic partial in the spectrum. This acoustical output is related to
a certain physiological configuration of the articulators. Although the singing teacher and
student cannot directly observe what structures are being modified and how, the spectrum
display creates a visual image of acoustic and physiological phenomena that otherwise
cannot be observed in real-time. The result is the development of a given neuromuscular
behaviour that leads to a certain desirable sound quality, consistently and faster.
Figure 16.3 represents SpeechStudio recording software, which allows real-time display
of four signals. Three of them reflect the physiological factors most affecting voice source
(or transglottal airflow): air flow, Psub (inferred from measuring intraoral pressure during
270 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
/p/ occlusion), and vocal fold contact waveform (ELG). The fourth channel corresponds to
the audio waveform. Another available options besides the display of these channels are
narrow and wide band spectrograms (in the Figure is presented an example of a narrow
band spectrogram). The inclusion of these types of displays in a singing lesson might
benefit students who are kinaesthetic and visual learners (i.e., need to feel and to have
a visual input associated with that feeling) (McCoy, 2004). Such displays illustrate the
relationship between physiological parameters and certain neuromuscular behaviours. For
example, students can visualise that a bigger amount of airflow is necessary to sing high
notes and to sing with great vocal intensities, as compared with lower and softer notes.
Other software with possible applications in a singing lesson, despite the non-real-time
feedback possibility, is Madde (Svante Granqvist). Step by step the teacher can exemplify
how a synthesiser sound quality can be modified and approximated to the quality of a singer’s
voice (male, female or a child). Also, the effects of certain physiological phenomena can
be understood by listening to the corresponding acoustical output (Bozeman, 2013). This
is achieved by manipulating some of the available parameters at each time. Examples of
such parameters are (see Figure 16.4): 1. F0 randomisation factor – it adds random variation
in the vibrato, as expected in any natural living organ (e.g., heart rate); 2. Vibrato – it is a
common feature in adult singing (not in children’s voices), changeable in frequency and
in extent; 3. formant frequencies (i.e., resonances of the vocal tract) – by changing values
of F1 and F2, different vowel qualities can be heard whereas changing F3 to F6, produces
different timbres (e.g., clustering of F3, F4 and F5 may exemplify the acoustic output
obtain when applying the singer’s formant cluster resonant strategy); 4. source spectrum
tilt – increasing it will increase vocal loudness, thus physiologically reflecting Psub
increasing; 5. the amplitude of F0 in the source spectrum – changes in F0 amplitude reflect
different degrees of vocal fold adduction, corresponding to different phonation types.
Learning to Be a Professional Singer 271
Fig. 16.4 Madde synthethizer (Svante Granqvist) displaying some of the parameters
that can be changed in order to change sound quality. (1) F0 randomized
factor; (2) vibrato (changeable in rate and in amplitude); (3) formant
frequencies; (4) source spectrum tilt; (5) amplitude of F0 in the source
spectrum
Vocal Technique
The stage forms the artist, but ruins the singer. And I, by profession, am a singer. To be
a singer you need a technical knowledge which you cannot have at 20, 22, or even 25.
Technique is the basis of everything. You cannot be a singer if you are not first a vocal
technician, and you cannot be a good artist unless you are also a good singer. – Alfredo
Kraus (Opera, January, 1975, pp. 19)
these elements can be found in various literature: (a) books by vocal pedagogues, such
as William Vennard, Berton Coffin, Richard Miller, Barbara Dosher, Scott McCoy, Janice
Chapman and Maribeth Dayme (Coffin, 1960; Vennard, 1967; Miller, 1986; Miller, 1996;
McCoy, 2004; Miller, 1993a, 1993b, 2000, 2004, 2008; Dosher, 1994; Chapman, 2006;
Dayme, 2005); (b) scientific books by researchers and health care providers (see for
example Sundberg, 1987; Titze, 2000; Thurman & Welch, 2000; Sataloff, 2006; Benninger
& Murry, 2008); and (c) research articles in journals, such as Journal of Singing, Folia
Phoniatrica et Logopaedica, Journal of Voice, Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, Research
Studies in Music Education, Psychology of Music, British Journal of Psychology, and
Journal of Interdisciplinary Music Studies.
Vocal technique can be developed through guided learning, but it also depends on the
quality and time spent with self-oriented practicing. The teacher has an important role in
establishing efficient practising strategies, as his/her ability to provide efficient solutions
to a specific difficulty shown during the lesson has a profound influence on the student’s
approach during the practise session (Driskell et al., 1994). Optimal studying practices
may include:
1. Efficient practising time, which requires a structured plan of the session, with
specific guidelines for the development of different vocal and musical competences
and a plan of the practicing section, distributing practise during the day – shorter
practise sessions, in which there is a gradually increasing level of task difficulty,
so that it assists the development of proficiency over a long period of time and
encourages higher motivation levels (Barry & Hallam, 2002). For a singer, the
planning of shorter studying sessions is also important to reduce the risk of vocal
abuse (Dayme, 2005).
2. Mental practise, which involves analytical study of the repertoire (i.e., identification
of sections, harmony, and repeated patterns) and mental visualization of the gestures
required to sing the repertoire (Lehmann et al., 2007) – it activates the same areas of
the cerebral cortex as those involved in actual playing/singing (Driskell et al., 1994),
thus potentially reducing the risk of vocal abuse by repetition. It also seems to
develop kinaesthetic neuromuscular memory, resulting in laryngeal adjustments in
response to pre-planning and to auditory feedback (Larson et al., 1995; Driskell
et al., 1994). Mental practise can also involve shadowing practise, used to increase
the student’s awareness of one single aspect of vocal performance at a time, as the
singer does not produce vocal sounds but only the required gestures to produce them.
3. Self-evaluation of learning and practising, i.e., the recognition of strengths and
weaknesses, the awareness of task difficulty, the creation of strategies to improve,
and the ability to set objective goals for each practise session (Jørgensen, 2004;
McPherson & Schubert, 2004).
4. Memorising the repertoire – it is a requisite to sing operatic roles; it enhances
communication with the audience (Hallam, 1995). Singers memorise more
effectively if both words and melody are memorised together (Ginsborg, 2000).
5. Automatising learned neuromotor skills (Jørgensen, 2004). Skilful singing involves
a fine coordination between air pressure and different degrees of muscle tension
and extension, occurring at several body parts simultaneously and at a high speed.
The voluntary control of oropharyngeal, intercostals, abdominal and internal and
external laryngeal muscles to achieve the desired voice quality is succeeded through
the repetition of prephonatory gestures. These are monitored by the quality of the
Learning to Be a Professional Singer 273
associated produced sound, using both kinaesthetic and auditory feedback loops
(Larson et al., 1995; Mürbe et al., 2002). Conscious repetition of these gestures lead
to their automatisation (Jørgensen, 2004).
6. Learning the correct pronunciation of the text. As music and words are both key
elements in vocal musical, training the phonetics of the sung language are equally
important as practising the melodic contour, phrasing, rhythm, intonation and vocal
sound quality (Kayes & Fisher, 2002). Thus, it would be ideal if singing students
also learn the grammar and vocabulary of languages, so that they become capable
of translating and interpreting the text they sing (Kagen, 1950). One should bear
in mind that, associated with a professional career, there is the need to work with
musicians from different nationalities and even live in different countries. Hence,
music schools should offer language classes; when not possible, the student should
try to acquire these competences extra-curriculum.
The only reason for developing a stable vocal technique is to be able to communicate
sound and emotion to the listener. It is true that beautiful sound, in and of itself, can be
emotive. But beautiful vocalism separated from the artistic imagination is not sufficient for
dramatic and textual communication. (R. Miller, 1996, p. 152)
Expressive performance has been regarded, by teachers and students, as one of the most
important characteristics of a successful performance (Laukka, 2004). Students who are high
achievers refer to their performances as being engaging, appealing, charming, committed
and presenting a depth of feeling of the music they interpreted (Coimbra & Davidson, 2004).
Varying the inherent structure of the music using a rule system based on the cognitive
representation of the hierarchical structure by the performer, may enhance expressivity
(Juslin, 2003). This includes phrasing, sharpening contrasts in terms of time duration and
intonation, exaggerating articulation on repeated notes or important lyrics, and creating
tonal tensions (Friberg et al., 2006). Discrete emotions can be conveyed using combinations
of different acoustic musical properties, as there is a connection between the emotional
psychological content of the piece, the performer’s body, the vocal tract movements and
the voice quality (Sundberg, 1982). For example, tenderness can be expressed using slow
tempo, low vocal intensity, round voice, avoiding hard vocal attacks, reducing contrasts
between long and short notes and singing with vibrato (Juslin, 2001). According to the
multi-dimensional theoretical model proposed by Juslin (2003) (GERMS), other important
aspects of expressive communication include: (i) random variability; (ii) the violation of
musical expectations or the delayed of expected resolutions; and (iii) producing motion
patterns in music which relate to human movements (Friberg & Sundberg, 1999).
Voice is a capital in the bank … sing on your interest and your voice will last. (Lauritz
Melchior, cited in I. Titze, 2010, p. 52)
Unlike other musical instruments, the voice cannot be replaced if ruined; thus, vocal health
and longevity are of utmost importance to a singer (Titze, 1992). To have a healthy voice,
274 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Every voice has a shelf life, and one has to be extremely careful of anything that might
end a career mysteriously and prematurely. Caring for a voice includes paying attention
to aspects of physical health, the environment, mental fortitude, and, above all, a solid
technique. (R. Fleming, 2004, p. 142)
Literature concerning strategies to promote healthy living habits is diverse; so this section
provides a summary of basic guidelines for achieving physical and mental well-being,
namely: (i) acquiring good sleeping habits, as during sleep the body restores itself;
(ii) maintaining excellent nutrition, rich in fibre, vitamins, proteins, and low in saturated
fats. When a singer has poor nutritional habits or an unbalanced life-style, situations such
as the development of gastric reflux – one of the most common causes of vocal disorders –
may appear and impact negatively on vocal health (Merati, 2006). Some food supplements
can also be a good choice, especially during times when the immune system may need
a boost (Dayme, 2005); (iii) making sure that hydration levels are kept high during the
day, especially previous to a practising session or a performance (Sataloff et al., 2007);
(iv) refraining from alcohol, caffeine and smoking. Elevated quantities of alcohol cause
vasodilatation of the capillaries of the mucosa of the vocal folds; the diuretic effects of
caffeine cause dryness of the vocal folds mucosa; and nicotine causes erythema, oedema
and inflammation of the vocal tract impairing vocal performance (Sataloff, 1987);
(v) avoiding exposure to environmental irritants (pollution and allergens), as these may
cause hoarseness, throat clearing and vocal fatigue; (vi) consulting an ear-nose-throat
(ENT) specialist when voice quality has changed and prevailed for more than a week
(Sataloff, 1995); (vii) creating coping strategies to deal with stress and anxiety commonly
associated with an agitated life-style, and with constant exposure to evaluation and
criticism. Although it might take several years until one has developed resilience, it is
important to develop the ability of knowing when to accept criticism and when to ignore
it. Thus, singers, like other musicians, should: seek for support amongst family members,
colleagues and teachers; learn relaxation techniques; practise sports; and balance work
time with leisure time. Sometimes it is necessary to work as much on vocal competences
as on self-attitude towards anxiety and doubtful thoughts (Connoly & Williamon, 2004);
(viii) being aware of pharmacological agents with a potential negative impact on the
voice (Sataloff, 1987). Medication which causes vocal problems due to vocal dryness
include: antihistamines – prescribed to treat allergies (expectorants, mucolytics and
wetting agents normally counteract these adverse effects); decongestants; oral inhalers –
the effects are according to dose and individual response to the medication; antitussive
medications containing codeine and antihistamines; systemic corticosteroids – potent anti-
inflammatory drugs used to treat acute inflammatory laryngitis; antibiotics – when taken
without following the physician’s advice can lead to the progression of a curable infection;
antihypertensives (normally prescribed to reduce high blood pressure); treatments for
reflux laryngitis, namely antacids and H2-blockers. Proton pump inhibitors (PPIs) are most
effective in treating reflux and seem not to cause vocal side effects. Other solutions to
Learning to Be a Professional Singer 275
avoid or reduce acid reflux involve not eating heavy meals, especially four to five hours
before going to bed, as well as not consuming food that can increase acid production (e.g.,
tea and coffee) (Sataloff, 2006); psychotropic drugs, i.e., sleeping aids and treatments for
motion sickness; tranquilizers and anxiolytics, which besides laryngeal dryness possess
side effects such as sleepiness and drowsiness which equally impair the performance;
antidepressants; antipsychotics; diuretics – usually recommended to manage premenstrual
and menstrual fluid retention, and to reduce ‘high blood pressure’, its use is associated
with a dehydrating effect and an increase in the viscosity of laryngeal secretions. Other
medications which should be avoided by vocalists are: inhaled cortiscosteroids – indicated
to treat asthma, they can cause dysphonia, and hoarseness; other alternatives such as
leukotriene inhibitors, should be recommended to vocalists (Alessi & Crummey, 2006);
pain-relief drugs (analgesics) – used to reduce the sensation of pain, should not be taken
before a performance as pain can be informative on symptoms of voice abuse; (iii) aspirin
and ibuprofen can predispose to mucosal haemorrhages, especially when vocal fold
disorders exist due to vocal effort; hormone medication containing androgens significantly
changes the extensibility of the connective tissue and water retention in the mucosa of
the vocal folds; oral combined contraceptives may have side effects such as vocal fold
oedema, depending on dose and properties of their progestogen component (Lã et al., 2007;
Lã et al., 2011; Van Lierde et al., 2006; Amir et al., 2003); hormone replacement therapy
(HRT) – controversial effects were found, depending on dose, progestogen component and
duration of treatment (Laureano et al., 2006; Meurer et al., 2004; Lindholm et al., 1997;
Schneider et al., 2007); thyroid treatments may lead to xerostomia; for hypothyroidism
they seem to restore vocal function (Alessi & Crummey, 2006).
We never know if singing on a cold or a throat infection will be our last performance, so
prudence is rewarded with a future. (R. Fleming, 2004, p. 139)
Decisions on whether to sing or not under non-optimal conditions often depend on the
singer’s voice and singing abilities. There are those who cannot sing with a simple cold,
and others who have learned to using diction, modifying the style, or giving emphasis
to interpretation, to be able to give an acceptable performance (Davies & Jahn, 1999).
Conditions under which singing is contraindicated involve: (i) acute laryngitis, i.e.,
inflammation of the larynx with red and swollen vocal folds. If the singer does not refrain
from performing, serious long-term vocal problems may be developed; (ii) vocal fold
haemorrhage. Singing may aggravate the haemorrhage, leading to, for example, vocal
polyps; (iii) laryngopathia menstrualis, i.e. prevelance of microvarices and swelling of
the vocal folds associated with premenstrual and menstrual phases of the menstrual cycle.
Singing under these conditions may lead to vocal haemorrhage and subsequent associated
vocal problems. For this reason, in the past there were the ‘respect days’, three days in the
singer’s contracts during which the singer could refrain from performing if symptoms of
laringopathia menstrualis were present (Abitbol et al., 1999).
276 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
The voice doctor has to be aware of the possible causes that can put the singer’s voice at
risk and damage a singing career … to know the heavy demands made on the singer in
respect of physical and psychological strain, artistic sensibility, individuality, and empathy
for the greatest possible expressive capacity and interpretation. (J. Schlömicher-Thier &
M. Weikert, 2006, p. 140)
Another important protective strategy would be to know what to expect from a laryngologist
or ENT specialist. Because of the demands of this profession, almost every singer visits an
ENT specialist at least once in their life. The quality of this visit is of utmost importance
for the quality of the outcome (Schlömicher-Thier & Weikert, 2006). The singer should
look for an ENT whose patients are mainly singers, who demonstrates sympathy and
availability, who takes a detailed patient’s history, keeps records of the singer’s larynx in
normal conditions, and who is willing to explain what is going on with the singer’s voice.
The ideal scenario would be that music schools establish a protocol with ENT specialists;
singing students could then be followed-up by the same health-care specialised team and
have access to efficient treatment at accessible prices (Davies & Jahn, 1999).
A big component of longevity is choosing repertoire wisely. The most difficult word for
a singer to learn is no – no to too much, too soon, too heavy, too dramatic, too mature,
and to an orchestra that’s too loud … One of the best ways to ensure stamina is not to
sing too heavily, for adding weight to a particular long section will only lead to fatigue.
(R. Fleming, 2004, pp. 146; p. 150)
Acquiring healthy vocal practices is an important protective behaviour. These may include:
have also been pointed out as highly beneficial, not only for warming-up, but also
for cooling-down; they seem to facilitate vocal efficiency by raising the mean
supraglottal and intraglottal pressures, thus enhancing the source-tract interaction
(Titze, 2006).
2. Vocal stamina. Like an athlete, singers should regularly practise exercises that
facilitate strengthening of laryngeal musculature and promote efficient vocal fold
vibration (Schlömicher-Thier & Weikert, 2006). Examples of these exercises are
‘isometric’ exercises (e.g., messa di voce), which work to achieve maximum muscle
group contraction without motion for a short period of time (Stark, 1975). These
type of exercises have seem to facilitate coordination of vocal fold vibrations,
tone focus and respiratory support (Sabol et al. 1995). Singers should also practise
‘isotonic’ exercises (e.g., florid scales), which promote slow changes in muscle
length, and ‘calisthenic-type exercises’, which involve short muscle contraction
(Sabol et al., 1995).
3. Protective strategies to reduce the risks associated with career demands. For
example, frequent travelling, especially on airplanes, may lead to vocal problems,
as singers are exposed to high levels of noise and poor humidification. To decrease
negative effects of these conditions, singers can: (i) reduce talking; (ii) sleep during
the trip; (iii) avoid caffeine, alcohol and sugary drinks (as these act as diuretics
and increase dehydration) (Sataloff et al., 2007); (iv) drink plenty of water; (v) use
a saline nasal spray; (vi) for long flights, wear a moistened mask; and (vii) avoid
travelling with head colds as dysfunctions of the Eustachian tube may result in
hearing loss (Davies & Jahn, 1999).
4. Choose repertoire wisely. This plays a major role in the development of a future
long-lasting professional career (Miller, 1996; Flemming, 2004). The responsibility
of singing the most suitable repertoire is shared by both teachers and students. Some
singers, especially the younger ones, may feel an urge to accept leading operatic
roles, sometimes too early in their vocal development and a step too big for their
current vocal stamina (Flemming, 2004). However, singing inappropriate repertoire
may slow down vocal developmental, student’s learning efficacy, and cause vocal
damage (Ralston, 1999).
The most appropriate repertoire should take into account individual voice classification,
i.e., the individual laryngeal characteristics, age and maturity. A clear relationship between
predicted vocal fold length and voice classification exists: sopranos possess the smallest
anterior-posterior subglottic-tracheal diameter yielded mean vocal fold length, followed by
mezzo-sopranos, altos, tenors, baritones and basses (Roers et al., 2009a; Roers et al., 2009b).
Thus, in assisting the choice of repertoire, teachers should be aware of: the singer’s voice
classification; the singer’s vocal and musical capabilities/difficulties; technical demands of
the repertoire; repertoire which could constitute an achievable challenge, according to the
singer’s current technical development; relevance of matching repertoire with student’s
vocal and personal characteristics (Jarvis, 1987); and available guiding literature, including
books by, for example, Coffin (1960), Espina (1977) and Kagen (1968). Although none of
these books grade the repertoire’s difficulty (which may be related to the inexistence of
well-defined criteria), they provide a good starting point for advice on repertoire choice
(Ralston, 1999). There has been a high variability in assessing repertoire’s difficulty among
universities and across countries. The Ralston Repertoire Difficulty Index (RRDI) grades the
difficulty of the repertoire (1–3 = ‘easy’; 4–6 = ‘moderate’; and 7–9 = ‘difficult’) based on
278 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
seven features (i.e., range, tessitura, rhythm, phrasing, melodic line, harmonic foundations
and pronunciation). The author applied this instrument only to five randomly selected songs
(Ralston, 1999), and consequently, RRDI should not be considered as an universal manner
of grading repertoire’s difficulty.
There are so many things that go into making a singer – not just natural talent and hard
work but tenacity, resilience, and luck. … What a singer needs more than anything else to
get a career going is one brave impresario who is willing to take a chance and put his or
her stamp of approval on her. (R. Fleming, 2004, p. 16; p. 81)
Looking at how famous singers have started their careers, one finds winning important
competitions and efficient managers as common denominators (e.g., Isabel Rey, Janet
Baker, Renée Fleming). However, other factors may also be equally important. To
have access to such factors, music schools/colleges/universities provide courses on
career management and on how to prepare a singing audition/competition. In addition,
it is equally important that educational institutions invite managers to listen to school
productions, so that a bridge between the school and the professional world can be
established. The success of an audition much depends on the ability of: using the tools
of trade in the best possible manner; passing a clear image of the singer’s character and
professionalism; conveying the expressive meaning imbedded in the music; interacting
with other musicians involved in the performance; communicating with the members
of the panel; and being completely engaged and focussed on the performance (Kayes &
Fisher, 2002).
Possessing personality traits that enable pursuing a stressful and demanding career
constitutes another essential requisite for success. For example, musicians who have a
combination of perfectionism, introversion and neuroticism have shown propensity to
maladaptive anxiety behaviours, such as self-handicapping and social phobia (Lehmann
et al., 2007). Research suggests the following personality traits as best suiting a
professional musician’s career: (i) a combination of introversion and independence, to
provide the self-sufficiency to overcome difficult tasks associated with high achievement;
(ii) sensitivity combined with independence, to facilitate creativity, artistry and self-
perception; (iii) self-confidence (Sataloff et al., 2007); (iv) perseverance; (v) enjoyment of
music; (vi) high musical expectations; and (vii) communication and organizational skills
(Lehmann et al., 2007; Creech et al., 2008).
To be best prepared to engage in a professional life it is also essential to have as much
performance opportunities and positive experiences as possible. Learning to prepare
for a performance should be part of school/colleges/universities curricula (Papageorgi
et al., 2010). For example, courses teaching: the training of mental skills (e.g., mental
image of a successful performance), the building of a pre-performance routine, discuss
performance expectations, the organizational skills needed to prepare a concert programme,
and to create a portfolio would be recommended (Connoly & Williamon, 2004). High
educational institutions (HEI) should also provide the opportunity for students to
organize regular performances, especially prior to auditions/competitions (Connoly &
Williamon, 2004).
Learning to Be a Professional Singer 279
In order to fulfil audiences’ expectations and keep their interest, professional singers
need to keep improving their performing skills (Flemming, 2004). There are several
strategies that professional singers may use, including: keep working with coaches,
conductors, singing teachers and other experienced musicians. As the voice is a “hidden
instrument”, an expert listener’s feedback provides important perspectives to continuous
career development (Miller, 1996).
As everything in life, luck is also a determinant in becoming a professional singer.
Performance opportunities and involvement on peer networks were pointed out as
contributing factors for a successful transition from student to professional (Creech
et al., 2008).
Implications for the Training of Singers and Higher Education Institution Curricula
Methods of voice analysis; technology in the singing studio; acoustics of the singing voice; discussion of
Voice Science and Technology
available scientific literature in the field of voice and music performance
Key factors for effective performance practices; stress management and performance coping strategies;
Optimized Performance Practices according to the student’s choice, these would be applied to classical, popular music, musical theatre or
jazz vocal genres; observation and supervised practices
Exploring repertoire sources; assessing repertoire choice; according to the student’s choice, alternatives
Song Repertoire and Technique Studies in available repertoire and introducing the technical prerequisites of singing in a variety of genres will be
discussed
Practices
Cultural and social background of different vocal genres; the history of recordings; historically important
Music and Cultural Studies
singers’ performances
Harmony, Arrangement and Composition Improvisation; arranging scores; music composition in different music styles
Singing Lessons Individual singing lessons (specifically chosen vocal genre to improve students’ singing skills)
Singing in Ensemble Practice of singing in ensemble and orchestra (according to the chosen vocal genre)
Including knowledge and phonetics of different languages (English, French, German, Italian and
Language Skills
Spanish)
Artistry
Strategies to improve acting, posture, stage presence, communication, body movement and awareness,
Stage Skills
and dancing skills
Piano Lessons Individual sessions with a piano teacher to improve accompanying skills of different singing genres
How to audition in different countries and with different music styles; writing skills; how to organize a
Supporting
Audition Techniques curriculum vitae; writing bibliographic notes; writing concert notes; building up performance proposals;
Singers
References
Abitbol, J., Abitbol, P. & Abitbol, B. (1999). Sex hormones and the female voice. Journal
of Voice, 13, 424–46.
Alessi, D. M. & Crummey, A. (2006). Medications: The positive and negative impact on
voice. In M. S. Benninger & T. Murry, (Eds), The Performer’s Voice (pp. 153–62). San
Diego, CA: Plural Publishing, Inc.
Amir, O., Amir, N. & Michaeli, O. (2005). Evaluating the influence of warmup on singing
voice quality using acoustic measures. Journal of Voice, 19, 252–60.
282 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Amir, O., Biron-Shental, T., Muchnik, C. & Kishon-Rabin, L. (2003). Do oral contraceptives
improve vocal quality? Limited trial on low-dose formulations. Obstetrics &
Gynecology, 101, 773–7.
Baken, R. J. (1992). Electroglottography. Journal of Voice, 6, 98–110.
Barry, N. H. & Hallam, S. (2002). Practice. In R. Parncutt & G. E. McPherson (Eds), The
science and psychology of music performance: Creative strategies for teaching and
learning (pp. 151–65). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Benninger, M. S. & Murry, T. (2008). The singer’s voice. San Diego: Plural Publishing Inc.
Bishop, D. (2003). Warm up I: Potential mechanisms and the effects of passive warm up on
exercise performance. Sports Medicine, 33, 439–54.
Bozeman, K.W. (2013). Practical Vocal Acoustics – Pedagogic Applications for Teachers
and Singers.Vox Musicae: The Voice, Vocal Pedagogy, and Song, Nº9. Pendragon:
Press Hilsdale.
Burgin, J. (1973). Teaching singing between 1777 and 1927. London: The Scarecrow Press.
Callaghan, J., Thorpe, W. & van Doorn, J. (2001). Applications of visual feedback technology
in the singing studio. Proceedings of the Australian Association for Research in Music
Education: Annual Conference (pp. 21–4). Newcastle.
Callaghan, J. (1998). Singing teachers and voice science – An evaluation of voice teaching
in Australian tertiary institutions. Research Studies in Music Education, 10, 25–41.
Chapman, J. L. (2006). Singing and teaching singing: A holistic approach to classical
voice. San Diego: Plural Publishing, Inc.
Coffin, B. (1960). Singer’s repertoire. New York: Scarecrow Press.
Coimbra, D. & Davidson, J. W. (2004). Assessing vocal performance. In J. W. Davidson
(Ed.), The music practitioner: Research for the music performer, teacher and listener
(pp. 201–13). Surrey: Ashgate Publishing Limited.
Collins, T. (2001). Five key concepts for the private singing teacher of the young voice in
Australia. Australian Voice, 7, 53–9.
Connoly, C. & Williamon, A. (2004). Mental skills training. In A. Williamon (Ed.), Musical
excellence: Strategies and techniques to enhance performance (pp. 221–45). Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Morton, F., Haddon, E., Potter, J, de Bézenac, C.,
Whyton, T., Himonides, E., & Welch, G. (2008). From music student to professional:
The process of transition. British Journal of Music Education, 25(3), 315–31.
Davies D. G. & Jahn, A. F. (1999). Care of the professional voice: A management guide for
singers, actors and professional voice users. Oxford: Butterworth Heinemann.
Dayme, M. B. (2005). The performer’s voice: Realizing your vocal potential. New York:
W. W. Norton & Company.
Dosher, B. (1994). The functional unit of the singing voice. Metuchen: Scarecrow Press.
Driskell, J. E., Copper, C. & Moran, A. (1994). Does mental practice enhance performance?
Journal of Applied Psychology, 79, 481–92.
Echternach, M., Sundberg, J., Arndt, S., Breyer, T., Markl, M., Schumacher, M. & Richter,
B. (2008). Vocal tract and register changes anlaysed by real-time MRI in male
professional singers – a pilot study. Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, 33, 67–73.
Echternach, M., Sundberg, J., Arndt, S., Markl, M., Schumacher, M. & Ritcher,
B. (2010). Vocal tract in female registers – A dynamic real-time MRI study. Journal of
Voice, 24, 133–9.
Elliot, N., Sundberg, J. & Gramming, P. (1997). Physiological aspects of vocal exercise.
Journal of Voice, 11, 171–7.
Learning to Be a Professional Singer 283
Elliot, N., Sundberg, J. & Gramming, P. (1995). What happens during vocal warm-up?.
Journal of Voice, 9, 37–44.
Entwistle, N. & Smith, C. (2002). Personal understanding and target understanding:
Mapping influences on the outcomes of learning. British Journal of Educational
Psychology, 72, 321–42.
Espina, N. (1977). Repertoire for the solo voice. Metuchen: Scarecrow Press.
Flemming, R. (2004). The inner voice: The making of a singer. London: Penguin Books, Ltd.
Friberg, A., Brisen, R. & Sundberg, J. (2006). Overview of the KTH rule system for musical
performance. Advances in Cognitive Psychology, 2, 145–61.
Friberg, A. & Sundberg, J. (1999). Does music performance allude to locomotion? A model
of final Ritardandi derived from measurements of stopping runners. Journal of the
Acoustical Society of America, 105, 1469–84.
Garcia, M. (1847). Traité complet de l’art du chant. En deux parties: première partie 2º
édition; seconde partie, 1e édition [Reprint with an introduction by L. J. Rondeleux.
Includes Mémoires sur la voix humaine (1840)]. Genève: Minkoff Éditeur.
Gingsborg, J. (2000). Off by heart: Expert singers’ memorisation strategies and recall
for the words and music of songs. In C. Woods, G. Luck, R. Brochard, F. Seddon
& J. A. Sloboda (Eds), Proceedings of the Sixth International Conference on Music
Perception and Cognition. Keele: Keele University.
Gish, A., Kunduk, M., Sims, L. & McWhorter, A. J. (2012). Vocal warm-up practices and
perceptions in vocalists: A pilot survey. Journal of Voice, 26(1), e1–e10.\
Hallam S. (1995). Professional musicians’ approaches to the learning and interpretation of
music. Psychology of Music, 23, 111–28.
Hargreaves, D.J., Miell, D. & MacDonald, R. A. R. (2002). What are musical identities
and why are they important?. In R. A. R. MacDonald, D. Hargreaves & D. Miell (Eds),
Musical Identities (pp. 1–20). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Harrison, S. D. (2003). Who am I? Attributes of singing teachers. Australian Voice, 7–11.
Howard, D. (1995). Variation of electrolaryngographically derived closed quotient for
trained and untrained adult female singers. Journal of Voice, 9, 163–72.
Howard, D. M. & Murphy, D. T. (2008). Voice science acoustics and recordings. Abingdon:
Plural Publishing.
Howard, D. M., Welch, G. F., Brereton, J., Himonides, E., DeCosta, M., Williams,
J. & Howard, A. W. (2004). WinSingad: A real-time display for the singing studio.
Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, 29, 135–44.
Howard, D. M. & Welch, G. F. (1993). Visual displays for the assessment of vocal pitch
matching development. Applied Acoustics, 39, 235–52.
Howard, D. M. (1999). The human singing voice. In P. Day (Ed.), Proceedings of the Royal
Institution of Great Britain, 70, 113–34.
Jarvis, P. J. (1987). The mature female voice in transition ((Unpublished doctoral
dissertation), Arizona State University. Dissertation Abstracts International, 49:375-A.
Jørgensen, H. (2004). Strategies for individual practice. In A. Williamon (Ed.), Musical
Excellence (pp. 85–104). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Juslin, P. N., Friberg, A., Schoonderwalt, E. & Karlsson, J. (2004). Feedback learning of
musical expressivity. In A. Williamon (Ed.), Musical excellence (pp. 247–70). Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Juslin, P. N. (2001). Communicating emotion in music performance: A review and a
theoretical framework. In P. N. Juslin & J. A. Sloboda (Eds), Music and Emotion:
Theory and Research (pp. 305–33). New York: Oxford University Press.
284 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Simberg, S. & Laine, A. (2007). The resonance tube method in voice therapy: Description
and practical implementation. Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, 32, 165–70.
Stark, J. A. (1975). Vocal gymnastics. Journal of Cananadian Association of University
Schools of Music, 5, 67–75.
Sundberg, J. (1982). Speech, song and emotions. In M. Clynes (Ed.), Music, mind and
brain: The neuropsychology of music (pp. 44–57). New York: Plenum.
Sundberg, J. (1987). The science of the singing voice. DeKalb, IL: Northern Illinois
University Press.
Sundberg J, Lã F.M.B., Gill B.P. Formant tuning strategies in professional male opera
singers. Journal of Voice 27(3), 278–88.
Teachout, D. J. (1997). Education preservice and experienced teachers’ opinions of skills
and behaviors important to successful music teaching. Journal of Research in Music
Education, 45, 41–50.
Thomasson, M. (2003). Belly-in or belly-out? Effects of inhalatory behaviour and lung
volume on voice function in male opera singers. TMH-QPSR, 45, 61–74.
Thurman, E. & Welch, G. F. (2000). Bodymind and voice: Foundations of voice education.
Iowa: National Center for Voice and Speech.
Titze, I. R. (1992). Vocal efficiency. Journal of Voice, 6, 135–8.
Titze, I. R. (2000). Principles of voice production. Salt Lake City, UT: National Center for
Voice and Speech.
Titze, I. R. (2001). Acoustic interpretation of resonant voice. Journal of Voice, 15(4), 519–28.
Titze, I. R. (2006). Voice training and therapy with semi-occluded vocal tracts:
Rationale and scientific underpinnings. Journal of Speech, Language and Hearing
Research, 49(2), 448–59.
Titze, I. R., Hunter, E. J. & Švec, J. G. (2007). Voicing and silence periods in daily and weekly
vocalizations of teachers. Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, 121(1), 469–78.
Van Lierde, K. M., Claeys, S., De Bodt, M. & Van Cauwenberge, P. (2006). Response of the
female vocal quality and resonance in professional voice users taking oral contraceptive
pills: A multiparameter approach. The Laryngoscope, 116, 1894–8.
Vennard, W. (1967). Singing – the mechanism and the technic. New York: Carl Fischer.
Vurma, A. & Ross, J. (2004). Priorities in voice training: Carrying power or tone quality.
In J. W. Davidson (Ed.), The music practitioner: Research for the music performer,
teacher and listener (pp. 173–90). Surrey: Ashgate.
Watson, P. J. & Hixon, T. J. (1985). Respiratory kinematics in classical (opera) singers.
Journal of Speech, Language and Hearing Research, 28, 104–22.
Welch, G. F., Howard, D. M., Himonides, E. & Bereton, J. (2005). Real-time feedback in
the singing studio: An innovatory action-research project using new voice technology.
Music Education Research, 7, 225–49.
Welch, G. F., Howard, D. M. & Rush, C. (1989). Real-time visual feedback in the
development of vocal pitch accuracy in singing. Psychology of Music, 17, 146–57.
Welch, G. F. & Sundberg, J. (2002). Solo voice. In R. Parncutt & G. E. McPherson (Eds),
The science and psychology of music performance: Creative strategies for teaching and
learning (pp. 253–68). New York: Oxford University Press.
chapter 17
learning to Be an instrumental Musician
… in one minute i was a star and in three minutes i hit superstardom … you can’t have a
big career unless you play in competitions … I do five hours [practice] a day if possible,
but it’s getting more and more difficult with my engagements. For me the best practice is
when I have a practical task to accomplish. If I manage to fulfil it, then I’ve had a good
day’s work …When I first looked at Ravel’s ‘Scarbo’, from Gaspard, I could hardly read
the text and I thought, ‘I have to have a third hand to accomplish this!’ (Pogorelich in
dubal, 1997)
Introduction
It is well known that, during the course of their lives, successful performing instrumentalists
spend thousands of hours in the privacy of their studios, practising. It is, therefore,
impossible to overestimate the importance of practice for the developing musician.
However, for some, practice can be monotonous, repetitive and arduous, while they would
rather be doing something else; and for others, it can be motivating, varied, and lead to
very high-level performances. What accounts for such differences in achieving success?
What does practice involve at different stages of learning to be a successful musician?
What are the differences between experts and less developed instrumentalists? What else
besides attaining technical fluency or learning repertoire is involved in achieving expertise?
Research in music performance has long been interested in the study of expertise and the
development of skills necessary for successful careers in instrumental playing. The main
focus has been on the training of instrumentalists in terms of the development of technical
and musical skills, through practice. However, to become successful, there may be yet
further skills not commonly integrated in the training of instrumentalists but which are
equally important for developing and sustaining a performing career, be it as a soloist,
orchestral player, chamber musician, or an amateur instrumentalist.
of how they became successful (e.g., Czerny’s famous reports of his lessons with Ludwig
van Beethoven; Leopold Mozart’s treatise on the fundamental principles of violin playing).
Research reports (e.g., Williamon & Valentine, 2000) advocate that practice is a vital
constituent of expertise and that the fundamental skills needed as the basis for expertise
are acquired over three stages: cognitive, associative and autonomous stages (Fitts &
Posner, 1967). ‘Individuals progress towards the autonomous stage and, thus, can perform
their acquired skill without being encumbered by interpretive procedures only through
practice’ (p. 354). The consideration of the autonomous stage leads to certain assumptions
that practice is indeed an imperative factor in acquiring high levels of skill. But the
subsequent question is whether this is determined by quantity or quality of practice.
Several studies have investigated the role of quantity of practice in the development
of skill. Anderson (1982) observed that ‘at least 100 hours of learning and practice’ are
obligatory to acquire ‘a reasonable degree of proficiency’ at any significant cognitive task.
Several cognitive mechanisms that account for improvement in the task have since been
suggested, as for example chunking, proceduralization, compression, and induction (see
Anderson, 1982, 1987, 1993; Newell, 1990). Similarly, the Power Law of Practice (see
Fitts & Posner, 1967) states that ‘the speed of performance of a sensorimotor task increases
as a power function of the number of times the task is performed’. But will continuous
practice of music inevitably lead to high levels of expertise and to successful performances?
It has been demonstrated that experts in any domain spend many years developing and
refining their skills, and a so-called ‘10 years rule’ has emerged from research in several
domains (e.g., Simon & Chase, 1973). This is no different in music. Skilled instrumentalists
spend years developing their skills, and the amount of accumulated practice reported in
research with expert pianists, for instance, is estimated at more than 10 times higher than that
for amateurs (Ericsson et al., 1993; Sloboda, Davidson, Howe & Moore, 1996; Sosniak, 1985).
Ericsson et al. (1993) demonstrated that by the age of 20, pianists had practised 10,000 hours
at the start of their performing careers but they also argued that practice must be deliberate.
This involves setting clear goals to improve performance and working systematically
to achieve them. Ericsson et al. (1993) assert that for individuals to reach expert-level
performance they should maximize the amount of time spent in deliberate practice. This can
extend over a period of at least 10 years and involves optimization within three constraints:
resource, effort and motivational constraints (see Williamon & Valentine, 2000).
Although this suggests that quality of performance is directly related to quantity
of deliberate practice, it is worth reviewing the content of practice more. What are the
considerations involved in effective practicing – that which leads performers to ‘achieve the
desired end product, in as short a time as possible, without interfering with long term goals’
(Hallam, 1998, p. 142). This seems to be idiosyncratic: Hallam (1998) suggests that there
is no recipe for effective practicing but that detailed work needs to be tailored to individual
needs. Effective practicing is about more than just the hours spent playing one’s instrument
or rehearsing a piece in one’s mind. Indeed, there is little doubt that attaining a successful
career is dependent upon more than the mere accumulation of hours.
Jørgensen (2004) applies the principles of ‘self-regulated learning’, drawn from
educational psychology, to musical practice. He discusses elements of ‘self-teaching’ in
which musicians take control of their planning and preparation of practice. They must
then execute practice strategies to accomplish their plans, as well as vigilantly observe
and evaluate their progress. Ultimately, all of this should lead to the development of
metacognitive strategies, which allow musicians to control their complete repertory of
Learning to Be an Instrumental Musician 289
practice strategies. This implies a difference between experts and novices, who not only
have fewer strategies but also have less ability to monitor, regulate and exploit them.
This contrast between experts and novices has also interested researchers, and
results from several studies highlight how variations in practice relate to achievement in
performance. For example, in a study with young cellists, Lisboa (2008) demonstrated that
novices adopt a mainly technical approach to new pieces, through repetitive strategies with
no focus on musical matters. This leads to interpretations limited by technical and conceptual
difficulties and with very few signs of musical expression. More experienced musicians,
however, start with the big picture in mind, and focus on technique comes later, technique
then functioning as a tool to achieve musical goals (see Lisboa, Chaffin, & Logan, 2011).
However, when preparing for successful performances, expert musicians seem to engage in
a range of activities besides the development of motor skills and work on learning the music.
In this chapter, we report recent research which compares thoughts and behaviours of
music students (in higher education) and professionals. The research highlights the requisite
skills for success of musicians in performance both from advanced students and expert
perspectives and the use and function of these skills within the context of performance.
Researchers have offered a few different constructs concerning the types of skills musicians
require for success. Lehmann and Davidson (2002) presented a grouping comprising
three areas: (1) Perceptual skills – those used for obtaining structural as well as social
information, including nonverbal cues exchanged between performers and the audience;
(2) Cognitive skills – memory, decision making, pattern recognition, etc.; and (3) Motor
skills – musculoskeletal, cardiovascular and respiratory function, movement generation and
coordination, and control over levels of relaxation and tension. In addition, Lehmann and
Davidson (2002) suggested that ‘a skill defines itself by the task demands it imposes and
hence by a specific constellation of accompanying cognitions, perceptions, and actions’
(p. 544). Following this, it could be presumed then that different instrument groups would
require their own sets of skills given the varying demands resulting from different manners
of sound production and performance.
In a recent study with 29 conservatoire and professional musicians, Clark (2010)
identified a range of musical, non-musical, and psychological skills deemed necessary for a
successful career in music performance. The musicians were interviewed about the requisite
skills, activities and behaviours, and thoughts and perceptions that they felt were necessary
to perform effectively and, more specifically, that were central to being a pianist, string
player or singer. Content analysis was performed using Interpretive Phenomenological
Analysis1 (IPA; for a full discussion of the methods employed see Clark, 2010). During
analysis, the 29 participants were allocated to one of two groups: experienced musicians
(N = 11: 8 men, 3 women), which included professors and postgraduate students; and less-
experienced musicians (N = 18: 6 men, 12 women), which included undergraduate students
(see Table 17.1 for the number and mean age of participants according to experience and
instrumental group).
1
According to Smith and Osborne (2003, p. 51), IPA ‘attempts to explore personal experiences
and is concerned with an individual’s personal perception or account of an object or event, as opposed
to an attempt to produce an objective statement of the object or event itself.’
290 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Table 17.1 Number of participants from each group, with mean age and standard
deviation (in years) in brackets
The results of the interviews (see Table 17.2) were categorised according to musical,
non-musical and psychological skills. The experienced and less-experienced musicians
discussed a range of comparable musical skills. Not surprisingly, skills such as technique,
musicality, and interpretation were mentioned by participants from both groups,
representing the kinds of aspects a musician might be expected to focus on during regular
practice. In addition, a range of more performance-focused skills were discussed by the
musicians. These included being able to express emotion and project stylistic ideas during
performance, communicate with an audience, and understand how to adjust effectively to
the acoustic response of a performance space. This suggests that the experienced and less-
experienced musicians considered the requisites of success to contain those skills required
for performance in a public context, in addition to standard skill refinement.
Further highlighting the musicians’ perception of the importance of public contexts,
musicians from both groups identified a range of interpersonal and professional skills
needed for success. Interestingly, the more experienced musicians discussed a far greater
range of these than those who were less experienced. This was particularly evident in
relation to personal wellbeing, where twice as many experienced musicians discussed the
importance of looking after their health than did less-experienced musicians.
A large number of psychological skills were identified by both groups, including focus,
confidence, and motivation, as well as the knowledge and use of a range of strategies
relating to practice, performance, and overall learning and progression. As with the non-
musical skills discussed, the identification of such a broad range of psychological skills
highlights the importance of aspects necessary for the learning and performing musician,
not just for what might traditionally have been thought of as the practising musician. Using
quotes provided by the participants, let us now look more into the development, use, and
function of these skills within the context of performance preparation.
Personal well-being
• Look after health (n = 6)
• Balance work with fun (n = 2)
• Be comfortable working alone (n = 2)
• Focus (n = 4) • Motivation (n = 7)
• Confidence (n = 4) • Discipline (n = 4)
• Drive (n = 3) • Self-belief (n = 4)
• Resourceful (n = 3) • Focus (n = 3)
• Discipline (n = 2) • Flexible (n = 3)
• Resilience (n = 2) • Concentration (n = 3)
• Perseverance (n = 2) • Personality (n = 2)
• Be open to ideas (n = 1) • Positive, high standards (n = 2)
• Belief in self (n = 1) • Avoid self-criticism (n = 2)
• Objective and self-critical (n = 1) • Willing and able to learn (n = 2)
• Positive (n = 1) • Passion (n = 1)
• Enthusiastic (n = 1) • Resilience (n = 1)
• Patience (n = 1)
Knowledge and use of strategies
• Aware of strengths and weaknesses Knowledge and use of strategies
(n = 3) • Maintain perspective (n = 4)
• Use of effective practice strategies (n = 2) • Awareness of own strengths and
• Separate self from music (n = 1) weaknesses (n = 3)
• Keep performances in perspective (n = 1) • Distinguish self from music (n = 3)
• Able to assess why things happened • Use of mental rehearsal and visualization
(n = 1) (n = 3)
• Appropriate use of self-talk (n = 1) • Ability to learn from negative
• Know how to prepare for performances experiences (n = 2)
Pyschological
Previous research has found that elite musicians employ clearly constructed performance
preparation routines and has recommended that younger musicians be supported to do the
same (e.g., Connolly & Williamon, 2004; Partington, 1995); research within sport and
surgery has also noted the benefits that can be derived from the use of pre-performance
routines (e.g., Hanton & Jones, 1999; Jones & Hanton, 2001; Wetzel, 2006). Given the
support found in other fields, striving to gain an awareness of the types of pre-performance
activities in which musicians engage could benefit music performance training. Additionally,
292 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
doing so can help develop an understanding of the use and function of the skills discussed
above within the context of performing and performance preparation. With these aims in
mind, the 29 participants were also asked about the musical, physical, and mental activities
and behaviours in which they engage when preparing for performances, together with their
thoughts and perceptions associated with those activities. As discussed above, insight into
how musicians practice and learn is expanding, yet we still know relatively little about how
skilled musicians prepare for specific performance events.
Unsurprisingly, when discussing their performance preparation activities during the final
days leading up to a performance, the experienced and less-experienced musicians spoke
of striving to attain adequate preparation of their music through the understanding and use
of individualised, modified practice behaviours and strategies. The objective of this last
stage of preparation before performance was summarised well by one professional pianist:
I think the biggest thing you learn as you get older is how deep the preparation has to be …
I remember my first teacher saying that her teacher said ‘I practice so my worst is good
enough.’ And most people practice … to play their best as they call it, and actually, you
very rarely play your best under pressure. (professional pianist)
The modification of practice behaviours involved the focus shifting more toward
ensuring that the music was at a point ready to be performed and less on basic technical work:
Practice wisely the day or two before; I know it’s too late to change things like fingerings
or to make major changes. I tend not to practice smaller sections or drill them but practice
longer sections so I get a better picture of the music leading up to the performance. I play
through the music more too, to make sure that I can sustain myself and have the stamina
and to make sure it holds well together. (undergraduate pianist)
Modified practice behaviours included a reduction of the total amount of time spent
practising, running through music in its entirety, slow practice, and practising with an
increased focus on communication and sound.
Many of the experienced and less-experienced musicians also employed specific
preparation strategies during the final days before a performance. These activities included
simulating the performance – for instance, playing for others, practising performing, and
recording themselves. To compensate for less time spent practising, some of the musicians
reported engaging in a greater amount of score study to ensure that the music stayed fresh
in their minds:
I would try to take the foot off the pedal a little bit; not actually the foot off the pedal, but I
would try and practice a bit less. I would try and do a lot more reading of the music away
from the piano, just to relax a little bit and think about it in a more holistic sense … And
then I feel much more rested and in control of the process. (professional pianist)
Another reported strategy during the preparation phase was imagery, used for example
to develop and enhance expressivity and to aid projection of expressivity. Additionally, the
musicians spoke of imagining themselves on stage giving their performance, hearing how
they would ideally like their music to go, imagining the sound and physicality of performing
their specific music, while one student musician imagined performing his entire programme
Learning to Be an Instrumental Musician 293
in real time. When asked why they engaged in these activities, some reported that they used
imagery to explore and enhance their expressivity during practice and performance. Others
reported that imagery helped them to memorise, and strengthen their memory of the music:
I’ll visualize it a lot on the piano, I’ll look at my hands a lot, or I’ll even just sit at the piano
and without touching the piano, just imagining that I’m pressing all the notes … I’ve also
done things like play the right hand and play the left hand but stop playing one, like play
it on top of the keys without actually sounding the keys, then do it with the other hand.
Because, I think it helps my ear, it helps me memorise how one part sounds without the
other part. (undergraduate pianist)
Employing imagery was reported to give the musicians a taste of what the performance
would actually feel like, so in a sense they were able to pre-experience the situation
together with all of its sensations. Employing imagery prior to a performance was reported
to enhance confidence and help control nerves. Lastly, imagery was also found to provide
musicians with something much more concrete to aim for while on stage.
Ideally, I would like to have some peace and quiet and just sit down, close my eyes, and go
through the piece in my head and imagine that everything is just perfect – that everything
just works, and trying to make my body feel that it works. Then I kind of trick my brain
into thinking I’ve already done it perfectly, and I can just do it again … If I would think
that through ten times and it was perfect, then it was so much easier to sing it without any
mistakes. Somehow my mind thought that I’d already done it, so I didn’t have to worry.
(undergraduate vocalist)
I’ve gotten 10 hours sleep, I know the music, and I’ve eaten. All that is to have that intense
focus. (professional pianist)
Then I’ll try and eat well, which sometimes doesn’t happen. I try and get enough sleep.
(postgraduate pianist)
Interestingly, only one of the less-experienced musicians spoke of this. For the less-
experienced musicians, with their focus predominantly on preparing their music and less
on preparing their bodies for the physical demands of performing, this may indicate a lack
of awareness or understanding of how physically demanding performing actually is and
that a performer’s physical state can moderate their ability to perform. The views presented
by the experienced musicians, as in the quotes above, suggest a more holistic approach
toward preparation, in which the needs of music, mind and body are all addressed in order
to facilitate success.
Perhaps the more experienced musicians were at a point in their development in which
their musical preparation was comprehensive enough that it caused them less concern and
they were now able to turn their attention to other factors. The less-experienced musicians,
on the other hand, may not have felt secure enough in their musical preparation to address
other factors, or they may have been less aware of the potential impact their physical and
mental state could have on their ability to perform.
Potentially linked to this, performance-related health problems are widely prevalent
throughout the music profession, both at the student and professional level (e.g., Zaza, 1998).
A recent survey at two UK conservatoires found that music performance students show
greater concern for psychosocial over physical aspects of their own health and that they
are particular neglectful of health responsibility (Kreutz, Ginsborg & Williamon, 2009).
Additionally, music performance students have also been found to engage in fewer health
promoting behaviours than non-performance students, particularly in terms of health
responsibility and physical activity (Ginsborg, Kreutz, Thomas & Williamon, 2009). Given
the high levels of physical and emotional demands required in music performance, this is
particularly troubling.
On the actual day of the performance, the musicians engaged in pre-performance routines
which, although often idiosyncratic, generally included forms of physical and mental
warm-up, getting focused and into the mood of their music, and coping with nerves, either
through associative or dissociative strategies. Not all of the musicians included physical
practice on the day, but for those who did, this varied from a light and relaxed warm up
and taking time to play in the venue if possible to three hours of practice and running their
entire programme.
While some of the musicians attempted to stay as relaxed as possible, two of the
professional musicians included physical activity in their routines, in order to feel that their
bodies were completely warmed up:
Learning to Be an Instrumental Musician 295
I don’t have a car. I cycle in to work all the time, wherever I’m going. They used to laugh
at me because I’d cycle in then sing La Traviata. They said ‘you can’t sing in a Verdi opera
and turn up on a bicycle can you?’ I said, ‘well can you think of a better way of getting
ready for performances?’ (professional vocalist)
All of the musicians reported spending the final minutes prior to performing getting
their bodies fully warmed up and their minds focused on the task at hand and into the
mood of the music. To do so, they employed a range of behavioural and cognitive
activities. Musical activities included light warm up, playing difficult sections to
check boundaries, and final score study. Non-musical activities included eating and
drinking water while preparing to go on stage as well as using relaxation techniques
such as focused breathing, yoga and meditation. The experienced and less-experienced
musicians also spent time on their musical ideas and goals to develop appropriate
mental focus:
I try to have a list of things that are either important for that piece, or important for my
playing in general, sort of guidelines in which to keep myself. (professional pianist)
Imagery was also used on the day of the performance, reported most often by the less
experience musicians, who mentioned that this helped achieve a suitable mental state:
I just imagine myself on the stage. And listen to how I … want it to sound. But imagine that
I’m on the stage. I find that even just imagining myself on stage gives a little bit of extra
nerves, it kind of gives me a taste on what it’s going to feel like … It gives me something
to aim for when I’m performing the piece. I always feel that if I know what I want from
a performance, then I’ve got a much better chance than if I go into the performance not
knowing what I want but having a general idea. I find if I give myself an exact image of
what I want it to go like then I feel a lot more confident going on stage, knowing what I’m
going to do. (undergraduate pianist)
Nerves were a concern for a number of the musicians on the day of the performance,
and while for most the aim of their pre-performance activities was to develop an appropriate
focus, for some the aim was to help them combat nerves. The less experienced musicians in
particular were keen to discuss their experiences of performance anxiety, whereas the more
experienced musicians had much less to say about it. Despite being a topic of interest, four
of the less experienced musicians expressed uncertainty over how to cope effectively with
nerves. Of those who felt more confident, common coping strategies included reassuring
self-talk, mentally distancing themselves from their nerves, and amassing greater amounts
of practice or preparation.
Nerves were not a negative issue to be dealt with for all musicians though; the
experienced musicians in particular viewed nerves as normal and facilitative:
If I feel I’ve got butterflies in my tummy, that’s always a good sign, just sort of half an hour
before I go on. Gets the old fight or flight drug up and running … It energizes, it really
helps me to focus myself on what I’m doing. On the times when I haven’t felt that, I’ve
often made mistakes. (professional string player)
[My teacher] said it’s better to just accept the nerves. So I tried that and it helped a lot
actually. Because once you accept being nervous … then you’re not forcing yourself to
be something you can’t. You can’t force yourself not to be nervous, so maybe you waste
energy doing that. But it causes a higher level of stress if you try to stop yourself being
nervous, so just don’t. (undergraduate pianist)
I never feel satisfied after a performance. Well, obviously because I think most musicians
are not satisfied with what they’ve performed. (undergraduate pianist)
Learning to Be an Instrumental Musician 297
After a performance I’m usually wrecked because I put a lot into it. Usually when I’m tired
or wrecked, I become very hard on myself and become overly self-critical … I’m a lot
kinder on myself even the day after. I’m much more realistic. You just sort of think ‘there
it was, okay so that didn’t go too badly; I’m still alive. That’s the deal, I’ve learned from
that experience.’ I think right afterwards … you’re still quite high from the performance,
but it’s over and especially if you’ve been preparing for something for a long time, then it’s
over in an hour. It can be a real sense of deflation. (postgraduate pianist)
The aim of their debriefing was typically to try and understand what went well, what did
not go so well, and why it may have happened that way. Debriefing was far from a universal
activity, and some of the musicians commented that they intentionally avoid debriefing. For
others, debriefing was an occasional activity:
If I’m going to perform [the piece] again, I go through it, but if I know that this is something
that I’ll never do again, then I forget about it. (undergraduate string player)
This comment could be indicative of a belief that insight into the state of a piece of music
is all that stands to be gleaned through reflecting on performances, rather than a musician’s
actual ability to perform. Indeed, the general view from many of the less-experienced
musicians was that they could see few reasons why they would want to debrief. The issue
inherent in these types of beliefs are similar to those expressed by the less experienced
musicians concerning performance preparation discussed above: successful performances
hinge largely on having the music adequately prepared as opposed to other possible factors.
Interestingly though, some expressed concerns that they did not feel they learned how to
perform or improve from one performance to the next:
I can’t remember much, so if you asked me to do it again I would make the same mistakes
probably. I probably wouldn’t have learned a lot from it. (undergraduate pianist)
range of activities in which musicians engage as part of their practice and performance
experiences, far beyond basic physical practice. Consequently, ensuring such diversity is
appropriately reflected in student musicians’ training is of considerable importance.
The considerations above challenge the traditional view that ‘practice makes perfect’
in the sense that experience and self-discovery, in addition to accrued hours of physical
practice, play an important role in success. Also, practice involves more than learning a
skill or the music to be performed (for instance, the use of imagery, rest, nutrition, etc.) and
performing is practice in itself, as highlighted by the experienced musicians above who
view performances as a form of long-term development and opportunities for learning.
It becomes apparent that a successful career as a musician depends on the acquisition
and refinement of a diverse range of skills, both musical and non-musical. Indeed, the range
of skills presented in Table 17.2 highlights the tremendous breadth of ability musicians feel
they require in attaining, and maintaining, their performance careers. However, awareness
of a particular skill does not guarantee proficiency in that skill. For instance, within the
interview study reported here, two of the more experienced musicians commented that if
conservatoires provided mental skills training to students, this could remove some of the
stigma surrounding performance anxiety and provide students with the ability to cope with
and manage profession-related demands. More specifically, recent research highlighted the
impact that factors such as facilitative perfectionism, an internal locus of control, a healthy
interpretation of anxiety symptoms, and positive self-talk can have upon a musician’s
perception of a performance (Clark, Lisboa & Williamon, 2014). In a survey of musicians
from 57 orchestras worldwide, 83% of respondents reported that they felt their training had
left them unprepared to deal adequately with the demands of their profession (James, 2000).
Such findings suggest a disconnect between what musicians feel they need to know and
what they perceive themselves competent in upon completion of their formal training.
Music students’ training is typically based on experience and tradition rather than
evidence-based scientific principles. Possibly because the intellectual and emotional
demands of music performance are consuming (Ericsson & Charness, 1994), musicians
may be reluctant to acknowledge the potential application of findings from other fields, such
as exercise science for instance, to their work (Clark, Holmes, Feeley & Redding, 2011).
Given that, it is to be expected that novel training programmes, such as those addressing
mental skills or health and fitness, will not necessarily be met with open arms by all.
While musicians are happy enough talking about how they might employ various types
of mental skills within their regular practice activities, trying to deliver structured training
of such skills is somewhat foreign to the typical types of activities students often associate
with their training. Insight on how to provide broader training to musicians could be
gained from other fields such as sport, in which long-term development models are now
used to assist athletes with attaining their performance goals and maintain healthy and
sustained involvement in their activities (see Clark & Lisboa, 2013, for discussion). No
doubt, the development of a greater understanding of methods derived from fields other
than music, together with an appreciation of the culture within which such training occurs
and the potential influences resulting from this, will facilitate the development of better
education and training techniques, being of particular benefit to student musicians and those
responsible for their training.
Learning to Be an Instrumental Musician 299
References
Anderson, J .R. (1982). Acquisition of cognitive skill. Psychological Review, 89, 369–406.
Anderson, J. R. (1987). Skill acquisition: Compilation of weak-method problem solutions.
Psychological Review, 2, 192–210.
Anderson, J. R. (1993). Rules of the mind. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.
Clark, T. (2010). Mental skills in music: Investigating use, ability, and training. Unpublished
doctoral thesis, Royal College of Music.
Clark, T., Holmes, P., Feeley, G., & Redding, E. (2011). The role and value of implementing
health screening programs within music conservatoires. In A. Williamon, D. Edwards,
and L. Bartel (Eds.), Proceedings of the International Symposium on Performance
Science 2011 (pp. 137–43). Utrecht, The Netherlands: European Association
of Conservatoires.
Clark, T. and Lisboa, T. (2013). Training for sustained performance: Moving toward long-
term musician development. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 28, 159–68.
Clark, T., Lisboa., T., & Williamon, A. (2014). An investigation into musicians’ thoughts
and perception during performance. Research Studies in Music Education, 36, 19–37.
Clark, T., Williamon, A., & Aksentijevic, A. (2012). Musical imagery and imagination:
The function, measurement and application of imagery skills for performance.
In D. Hargreaves, D. Miell, and R. MacDonald (Eds.), Musical imaginations:
Multidisciplinary perspectives on creativity, performance, and perception (pp. 471–93).
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Connolly, C. & Williamon, A. (2004). Mental skills training. In A. Williamon (Ed.), Musical
excellence: Strategies and techniques to enhance performance (pp. 221–45). Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Driskell, J. E., Copper, C. & Moran, A. (1994). Does mental practice enhance music
performance?. Journal of Applied Psychology, 79, 481–92.
Dubal, D., The World of the Concert Pianist (London: Victor Gollancz Ltd., 1985).
Ericsson, K. A. & Charness, N. (1994). Expert performance: Its structure and acquisition.
American Psychologist, 49, 725–47.
Ericsson, K. A., Krampe, R.T., & Tesch-Romer, C. (1993). The role of deliberate practice in
the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological Review, 100, 363–406.
Fish, L., Hall, C., & Cumming, J. (2004). Investigating the use of imagery by elite ballet
dancers. Avante, 10, 26–39.
Fitts, P. M. and Posner, M. I. (1967). Human performance. Belmont, CA: Brooks/Cole Pub. Co
Ginsborg, J., Kreutz, G., Thomas, M., & Williamon, A. (2009). Healthy behaviours in
music and non-music performance students. Health Education, 109, 242–58.
Gregg, M., Clark, T., & Hall, C. (2008). Seeing the sound: An exploration of the use of
mental imagery by classical musicians. Musicae Scientiae, 12, 231–47.
Hallam, S. (1998). Instrumental teaching: A practical guide to better teaching and learning.
London: Heinemann.
Hanton, S. & Jones, G. (1999). The acquisition and development of cognitive skills and
strategies: I. Making the butterflies fly in formation. The Sport Psychologist, 13, 1–21.
Holmes, P. (2005). Imagination in practice: A study of the integrated roles of interpretation,
imagery and technique in the learning and memorisation processes of two experienced
solo performers. British Journal of Music Education, 22, 217–35.
James, I. M. (2000). Survey of Orchestras. In R. Tubiana and P.C. Amadio (Eds.), Medical
problems of the instrumentalist musician (pp. 195–201). London: Martin Dunitz.
Jones, G. & Hanton, S. (2001). Pre-competitive feeling states and directional anxiety
interpretations. Journal of Sports Sciences, 19, 385–95.
300 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
ioulia Papageorgi
Introduction
undeniably, acquiring expertise in a domain requires time and effort by the learner. expert
learning involves setting specific and attainable goals, designing and monitoring learning
activities and engaging in mindful and reflective learning (Ericsson, 2002). One of the
most cognitively complex skills is learning to play a musical instrument, as it requires
the development of aural, cognitive, technical, musical, communication and performing
skills (Hallam, 2006). Musical performance involves the integration of multimodal sensory
and motor information, precise monitoring of the performance through auditory feedback
(Altenmüller & Schneider, 2009), as well as the interaction of various memory systems
(Chaffin et al., 2009).
Expertise in a domain involves qualities such as (a) performance that is consistently
superior to that of an expert’s peers, (b) concrete results in terms of attainment and
(c) replication and measurement in the laboratory (Ericsson, Prietula & Cokely, 2007). In the
context of musical performance expertise, an expert performer can be conceptualised as a
person who consistently demonstrates exceptional levels of performance compared to other
individuals of similar age and experience and whose level of expertise can be confirmed by
some form of measurable outcomes (such as examination/audition results, recognition by
other experts and/or the public). Obviously, conceptualisations of expertise may be nuanced
by different musical genres or styles, such as in the relative requirement for improvisation
in performance. nevertheless, the aforementioned qualities can be considered as the basic
characteristics of an expert irrespective of musical genre or style specialisation.
Developing expertise depends on obtaining extensive skills, as well as appropriate
knowledge and mechanisms that monitor and control cognitive processes so that one can
perform a set of tasks efficiently and effectively (Feltovich, Prietula & Ericsson, 2006).
expertise is theorised as a complex construct of adaptations of mind and body to
task environments:
Expert performers need to acquire representations and mechanisms that will allow them to
monitor, control and evaluate their own performance, so they can gradually modify their
own mechanisms while engaging in training tasks that provide feedback on performance,
as well as opportunities for repetition and gradual refinement. (Feltovich, Prietula &
Ericsson, op cit., p. 61)
in advanced musical learners from different musical genres (classical, jazz, popular, Scottish
traditional) (Papageorgi et al., 2010). The findings suggest that the perception of expertise
in advanced musical learners is a complex phenomenon that relates to individual differences
(e.g. gender, age, musical genre, professional experience). The inherent dangers to musicians’
psychological well-being when discrepancies between musicians’ ideal and perceived levels
of expertise exist were also highlighted by the findings. One of the main consequences
of this phenomenon, which poses a threat to maintaining expertise is a decrease in one’s
confidence and, as a result, the experience of anxiety in musical performance. The final part
of the chapter moves on to describe some of the findings from the IMP project looking into
the perceived effects of performance anxiety on the expertise development and maintenance
of performance quality in advanced musicians (Papageorgi, Creech & Welch, 2013).
Studies of expert performance suggest that performers pass through phases of development
before achieving recognised expertise in their domain (Feltovich, Prietula & Ericsson, 2006).
Ericsson’s theory of expertise illuminates the process of how it develops (Ericsson &
Smith, 1991). Expert performers in very different domains display the acquisition of
similar mediating mechanisms for their performance, suggesting that there are common
components necessary for the acquisition of any form of expert performance or knowledge
(Ericsson, 1996). According to Ericsson’s theory, an elite performer goes through four main
stages in the ten years needed to attain expert performance. The first stage includes a certain
but not specific period of playful interaction within a certain domain. The second phase is
initiated when an individual reveals ‘talent’ or ‘promise’ in that domain. Following this, the
individual may begin participating in structured lessons and minimal amounts of practice
as encouraged by parents. Parents help the child to acquire regular practice habits and stress
the value of practice as evidenced by improvement in performance. Throughout the second
phase, parents are perceived to help their child to find coaches that are considered to offer
the best fit to their progressing performance levels, and practice continually increases. Phase
three begins with a major commitment being made to reach the top levels possible in the
domain. The best coaches possible are sought, as are optimal training conditions. This phase
ends when an individual is able to support themselves financially through performance.
Whether or not an individual enters the fourth and final stage determines whether they reach
a state of eminent performance, which is conceived as going beyond available knowledge
in the domain to produce a unique contribution. Major innovations required for this fourth
phase go beyond skills and knowledge that the master teachers know and could possibly
offer to the particular student (Ericsson & Charness, 1994; Ericsson, 1996; Ericsson,
Krampe & Tesch-Romer, 1993).
Other research has also conceptualised expertise development as a long process that
often takes many years. Bloom (1985) and Sosniak (1985, 1990), for example, suggested
that musicians go through three phases: an introduction to activity in the domain, the start
of formal instruction and deliberate practice and, finally, a full-time commitment to music.
Taking the time span further, Manturzewska (1990) suggested that the development of
musicians across the life-span has six stages, which range from spontaneous expression
and activity, intentional and guided musical activity, the formation of artistic personality,
establishment within the music profession, then a teaching phase through to, finally,
withdrawal from professional activity.
Developing and Maintaining Expertise in Musical Performance 305
the next stage of development. Hallam (op. cit.), for example, lists the importance of aural,
cognitive, technical, musicianship, performance, learning and life skills in the development
of the professional musician and explains that a variety of combinations of these may be
required for different tasks or branches of the music profession. Like expertise, research into
skill development is also conceived in the literature as stage (or phase) driven. According
to Fitts and Posner (1967), for example, learning a new skill passes through three phases,
which are termed the cognitive phase, the associative phase and the autonomous phase.
The main characteristic of the cognitive phase is that learning is under cognitive control
and includes identification and development of the component parts of the skill and the
formation of a mental image. During the associative phase, the learner begins to link the
component parts of the skill into a smooth action that becomes more fluent in time. This
takes place through continuous practising and feedback, which help the learner to refine
the skills. In the most advanced phase of skill learning, the autonomous phase, the skill is
so well learned that it becomes automatic and its performance does not require conscious
thought anymore. This final stage is what we would expect to characterise those advanced
musicians who engage with music at a professional level and are able to support themselves
financially through performance activities.
specifically by self-reported performance anxiety. Findings from the IMP project on these
two areas are discussed below (see also Papageorgi et al., 2010; Papageorgi, Creech &
Welch, 2013 for more details).
Two-hundred and forty-four instrumental musicians, participants of the IMP project, were
asked to respond to two pairs of questions (scales) as part of the survey part of the project. The
first scale focused on their views and self-assessments regarding musical skills. The second
investigated their attitudes and self-assessments of expertise in musical performance. The
participants rated the extent to which they agreed with the importance of listed performance
skills and constituents of expertise on a seven-point Likert-type scale. They also rated how
much the listed skills and constituents of expertise applied to them as performers (see
Papageorgi et al., 2010 for more details). Our analysis focused on the influence of personal
variables, and specifically gender, age, genre and professional experience.
Findings from our analysis using multivariate analysis of variance suggested that
conceptions and self-assessments of musical skills and expertise in advanced musical
learners is a complex phenomenon that relates to personal variables such as gender, age,
musical genre and professional experience. Some specific differences were observed
between classical and ‘other than classical’ musicians’ perceptions and attitudes.
Male musicians appeared to attribute higher significance to the drive to excel
musically in terms of achieving success. Female musicians attributed higher importance
to coping skills for achieving success, but, at the same time, they rated their coping skills
significantly lower than males. This may relate to why female musicians have generally
been reported as coping less effectively with the demands of performance and experiencing
higher levels of musical performance anxiety (Wesner et al., 1990; Fishbein et al., 1988;
Dews & Williams, 1989; Ryan, 2004; Rae & McCambridge, 2004; Kenny & Osborne, 2006;
Papageorgi, 2006). Additionally, females considered analytical musical skills to be less
representative of musical expertise compared to males, especially those specialising in the
Western classical genre. This suggests that musical genre may influence perceptions of
what constitutes expertise in male and female musicians.
The influence of musical genre was especially highlighted by the findings, with
most of the differences focusing on the identification of important musical skills and the
constituents of expertise and on self-assessments of skill and expertise. Classical musicians
considered the drive to excel musically and technically, notation-based skills and analytical
skills to be the most important musical skills, whilst ‘other than classical’ musicians
considered non-notation music skills to be more important. This is not surprising if we
compare the conventions of classical music with those of popular, jazz and folk music. The
latter rely more heavily on skills such as improvisation, memorisation and playing by ear,
whilst classical music has been associated with notation reading and mastering the Western
musical canon. Classical musicians were found to rate themselves higher in terms of their
performance skills and quality. It is possible that this may relate to the nature and length
of time that classical performance behaviours have been subject to formal assessment in
higher education compared to those in other-than-classical genres, and/or that ‘other-than-
classical’ musicians have idealised views of expertise that relate to individual ‘stars’ (well-
known performers) in their chosen genre – a finding suggested elsewhere in our findings
(Creech et al., 2008). Musicians in ‘other-than-classical’ genres typically begin to engage
308 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
with music at a later age (Gruber, Degner & Lehmann, 2004; Creech et al., 2008) and, as
a consequence, may feel less proficient compared to classical musicians because of this.
‘Other than classical’ musicians rated themselves higher in terms of transferable musical
skills, which may be explained by the fact that musicians in popular, jazz and folk genres
often have to be versatile and apply their skills to a greater variety of related musical genres.
Older musicians (ages 27 and above) attributed higher significance to the drive to excel
musically in terms of being a successful musician and to analytical skills as constituents of
expertise in musical performance. They also rated their analytical skills higher compared to
younger musicians (ages 21 and below).
Portfolio musicians considered the drive to excel technically to be more important
in being a successful musician, and considered practical musical skills to be the most
important constituents of expertise. On the contrary, undergraduate musicians considered
non-notation musical skills to be more important in being a successful musician. Portfolio
musicians, overall, rated their performance skills and quality higher compared to
undergraduate musicians.
The findings relating to age group and professional status suggest that as musicians
mature, develop and gain more experience professionally, their internal standards of what
constitutes an effective musician may elevate, but at the same time they also appear to be
more confident and develop musically, as they rate themselves higher in some musical skills.
The latter finding is in line with existing theories of expertise development (Bloom, 1985;
Sosniak, 1985, 1990; Manturzewska, 1990; Ericsson & Smith, 1991; Ericsson, 1996).
Carl Rogers (see Rogers, 1951) viewed personality as having two components, the perceived
self and the ideal self. Based on this view, we investigated and compared ‘ideal’ versus
‘perceived’ musical skills and expertise in our participants. We compared the responses
on the pairs of questions looking at perceived and ideal skills and expertise using paired
samples t-tests to investigate differences between the importance that participants attributed
to musical skills / expertise and the rating of their own musical skills / expertise.
Our findings suggested that there may be a gap between ideal and perceived musical
skills and expertise, or the presence of ‘incongruence’ using Rogers’ terminology. Overall,
musicians rated their ideal musical skills higher in comparison to how they evaluated
themselves in such skills. This difference is likely to be a product of the undergraduate
nature of a large proportion of participants who are likely to realise that further study is
needed in comparison with their more experienced performer peers. The data indicate that
this was the case for females and undergraduate musicians, as these two groups evidenced
a larger gap between their ideal and perceived musical skills. This may also suggest that
these two groups of musicians are less confident and that they are, therefore, more at risk of
having negative performance experiences and suffering from performance anxiety.
Portfolio career musicians and undergraduates differed in particular in how they
conceptualised their ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’ expertise. Whilst undergraduate musicians’
responses indicated that they had not yet achieved their ideal level of expertise, portfolio
career musicians expressed a lower level of ‘ideal’ expertise compared to their ‘perceived’
self-assessed level of expertise. This is an indication that professional musicians believed
that they had already achieved and surpassed their ideal level of expertise, perhaps even
appearing overly confident, or that the ‘ideal’ was some form of ‘average’ that they
Developing and Maintaining Expertise in Musical Performance 309
individually had surpassed (in the way that most car drivers are reported to believe that they
are better than average). Interestingly, research in the domain of expertise in the domains
of chess playing, physics and music has found that experts can often miscalibrate their
capabilities by being overly confident (Chi, 2006).
As mentioned in the section above, incongruence between perceived and ideal levels
of expertise can decrease confidence (when ideal levels of expertise are higher than the
perceived as the case in the female and undergraduate subgroups of our sample), which is
one of the contributing factors for the development of performance anxiety. With this in
mind, as part of the IMP project we also investigated the relationship between perceptions
of expertise and self-reported performance anxiety. Furthermore, we interviewed musicians
investigating how performance anxiety affects the quality of performance.
Musical performance anxiety is one of the most debilitating and frequently reported
negative influences on musicians’ development and quality of performance. It can be
defined as ‘a state of arousal and anxiety occurring before or while a person is performing
non-anonymously in front of an audience producing a valuable or evaluated task touching
on his/her self-esteem’ (Kesselring, 2006, p. 309). The quality of performance at any given
point is affected by the performer’s level of expertise and adequacy of preparation but can
also be affected by psychological factors, such as self-perception, self-efficacy beliefs and
previous experience of performance anxiety (Papageorgi, Hallam & Welch, 2007). As has
been confirmed by many studies, performance anxiety can negatively affect the quality of
performance, especially in female musicians (Wesner et al., 1990; Fishbein et al., 1988;
Dews & Williams, 1989; Ryan, 2004; Rae & McCambridge, 2004; Kenny & Osborne, 2006;
Papageorgi, 2007a, 2007b, 2008). Studies with professional and higher education student
musicians have indicated that performance anxiety is one of the most frequently reported
problems (Williamon & Thomson, 2006). Steptoe has argued that MPA is a critical problem
for 15% to 25% of musicians (Steptoe, 2001).
Nevertheless, when anxiety is controlled and kept within reasonable levels, it can
be beneficial. A number of studies have supported its adaptive effects, such as preparing
the body for the demands of the forthcoming task, increasing motivation and improving
concentration, particularly in experienced performers (Gates & Montalbo, 1987;
Papageorgi, 2008, 2009; Hamann, 1982; Kemp, 1996). There is therefore a need to
differentiate between maladaptive (or debilitating) and adaptive (or facilitating) forms of
musical performance anxiety in the literature.
In the IMP project, we investigated this phenomenon and examined whether musicians
across different musical genres share the same conceptualisations of performance anxiety
and perceptions of its effects on the quality of performance.
The effect of anxiety on the quality of performance was explored in the IMP survey and was
also a recurring theme in the interviews and qualitative comments made in the surveys. In
the surveys, participants were asked to rate the extent to which they felt that (a) their solo
and (b) group performance suffered or improved due to performance anxiety as compared
to performance without an audience on a seven-point Likert-type scale (from significantly
310 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
impaired to significantly improved). 39.3% of respondents said that their solo performance
was impaired due to performance anxiety, whilst 35.2% reported that it was improved
and 25.5% that it was neither improved nor impaired. The percentage of respondents that
reported their group performance to be impaired because of anxiety was significantly
less at 22.7%. Anxiety prior to group performance appeared to have more positive
results compared to solo performance, as 41.4% of participants reported improvement,
whilst 35.9% said that it was neither improved nor impaired.
Participants were asked in semi-structured interviews to say what effect anxiety
most frequently had on their performance. Thematic analysis of the relevant qualitative
data identified perceived effects of anxiety to be positive (adaptive anxiety), negative
(maladaptive anxiety) and having no effect. Musicians from all musical genres represented
in the study made reference to adaptive and maladaptive forms of anxiety in the interviews
and in an open-ended question in the survey. Their comments were used to explore themes
that determined their perception of anxiety as being positive or negative. Representative
quotations under each theme are given below.
Positive (adaptive) effects of anxiety in performance were identified as:
Good nerves can help elevate a performance. An amount of adrenaline increases focus and
awareness, and increases stamina. (classical)
It all gets channelled into making a good sound. It gives me that extra sparkle. (classical)
It isn’t a bad thing to get nervous before a performance. It can show that you care about what
you are about to do and can often help you concentrate on what you are doing. (popular)
If anxiety is used positively it can easily be turned into adrenaline to fuel a good
performance. (jazz)
If there are no nerves before a performance then you’ve lost your passion for
performing. (popular)
Personally I find that if you channel your nerves and anxiety before a performance, you
can make them work for you – like a rush of adrenaline to kickstart the performance!
(Scottish traditional)
Developing and Maintaining Expertise in Musical Performance 311
Oh, it definitely decreases the quality. And I never perform to the standard I know I can
perform to, because I’m so nervous. (Scottish traditional)
The anxiety that I associate with performing (especially solos) is the single, most powerful
factor that has significantly impaired my enjoyment of music and performing. (classical)
• Increasing tension
Since the age of 30 I have experienced muscle pains and weakness caused by tension
affecting my blood circulation. (classical)
312 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Nerves don’t help my performance as they affect my circulation and breathing leaving lack
of control in fingers as they are cold and breath support. (classical)
• Damaging musicality/expression
Nerves always destroy 50% of the work input. It also damages musicality. (classical)
At times I find that anxiety may not only affect my mental state of being, but also may
hinder my physical ability to deliver an accurate and sensitive interpretation of the piece.
Expression is sometimes lost in this. (jazz)
Musicians’ perceived effects of anxiety on the quality of performance were further explored
in each musical genre separately. Results are illustrated in Figure 18.2 and indicate that
classical, jazz and popular musicians referred to positive effects more frequently, in contrast
to Scottish traditional musicians who more frequently referred to negative effects.
Coping Strategies for Dealing with Performance Anxiety and Improving Quality
of Performance
The IMP project established that performance anxiety can have positive connotations for
some musicians. However, for some, it can also create significant problems by impairing
the quality of performance by impeding these musicians’ ability to cope successfully with
the demands of performance. As one musician mentioned in the survey:
Many musicians develop their love of music and passion for an instrument before
considering how equipped they are for dealing with public performance. Other musicians
grow up in an environment where they have many opportunities to display their skills in
public at an early age. Regardless of environment, those who suffer detrimental effects
usually carry on suffering until they take a step. (classical)
• Accepting oneself
• Drinking alcohol / using beta-blockers
• Avoiding performance
• Being realistic about performance
Developing and Maintaining Expertise in Musical Performance 313
Musicians’ coping strategies were further explored in each musical genre separately. Results
are illustrated in Figure 18.3 and indicate that classical and Scottish traditional musicians
referred to using emotion focused strategies more frequently, whilst popular musicians
mostly referred to problem focused strategies. There was no difference in the frequency of
reference to either coping strategies by jazz musicians.
Findings from the IMP project offer insights into perceptions of expertise in advanced
musical learners. An examination of the factors that shape musicians’ views towards
musical skills and expertise indicates that key variables of gender, age, musical genre
and professional experience are linked to musicians’ attitudes and the way that they
assess themselves.
Findings indicate that female musicians, ‘other-than-classical’ musicians and
undergraduate musicians may be more prone than male, classical and professional
musicians respectively to having less positive attitudes towards aspects of their own
performance skills and expertise. A wider difference between ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’
musical skills and expertise was observed in female and undergraduate musicians. Whilst
this may reflect appropriate levels of realism on the part of such skilled musicians, it is
important that musicians and those who educate them are aware of this difference and
try to limit the gap between ‘ideal’ and ‘perceived’. Musicians’ aspirations should remain
within reasonable boundaries so that they do not end up measuring themselves against
unobtainable benchmarks that might threaten their self-esteem. Teachers should promote
a healthy and balanced approach to performance by explaining that musicians should aim
at producing personal interpretations of music rather than comparing their performance
against their peers or trying to emulate well-established figures in the chosen musical genre.
They should also try to facilitate a more constructive view of performance by stressing
that each performance should be conceived as an opportunity to learn and improve
performance skills.
The perceived effect of performance anxiety on the quality of performance depends on
the type of performance. Whilst the largest percentage of respondents reported that their
solo performance was impaired as a result of anxiety, most musicians felt that their group
performance improved. Analyses of qualitative interview and questionnaire data suggested
that musicians conceptualise the effects of performance anxiety in three distinct ways:
as having positive effects (adaptive anxiety), negative effects (maladaptive anxiety) and
as having no effect. Musicians viewing anxiety as beneficial spoke about improvements
in concentration and stamina, and the fact that they interpreted pre-performance anxiety
as signalling their motivation and passion to do well and as something that helped their
performance be ‘special’. Musicians focusing on the negative aspects of anxiety said that
it reduced their enjoyment of playing, contributed to a series of practical problems that
hindered performance and decreased the control they had over their body. They, therefore,
interpreted physiological arousal as a threat to the quality of their performance. It appears
that the effect of anxiety on the quality of performance relates to how pre-performance
arousal is interpreted.
Musicians discussed a variety of coping strategies employed in an effort to master
the potential debilitating effects of performance anxiety. These were categorised as
Developing and Maintaining Expertise in Musical Performance 315
References
Altenmüller, E., & Schneider, S. (2009). Planning and performance. In S. Hallam, I. Cross
& M. Thaut (Eds), The Oxford handbook of music psychology (pp. 332–43). Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Barry, N. H. & Hallam, S. (2002). Practising. In R. Parncutt & G. E. McPherson (Eds), The
science and psychology of music performance: Creative strategies for teaching and
learning (pp. 151–66). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Bloom, B. S. (1985) Developing talent in young people. New York: Ballantine.
Bransford, J. D., Brown, A. L. & Cocking, R. R. (1999). How people learn. Washington,
DC: National Academy Press.
Brugues, A. O. (2011). Music performance anxiety – Part 2: A review of treatment options.
Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 26(3), 164–71.
Chaffin, R., Logan, T. R. & Begosh, K. T. (2009). Performing from memory. In S. Hallam,
I. Cross & M. Thaut (Eds), The Oxford handbook of music psychology (pp. 352–63).
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Chi, M. T. H. (2006). Two approaches to the study of experts’ characteristics. In
K. A. Ericsson, N. Charness, P. J. Feltovitch & Hoffman R. R. (Eds.), The Cambridge
handbook of expertise and expert performance (pp. 21–30). New York: Cambridge
University Press.
Clark, D. B. & Agras, W. S. (1991). The assessment and treatment of performance anxiety
in musicians. American Journal of Psychiatry, 148, 598–605.
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Potter, J., Whyton, T., Morton, F., Haddon, L., de
Bézenac, C., Himonides, E. & Welch, G. F. (2008). Investigating musical performance:
Commonality and diversity amongst classical and non-classical musicians. Music
Education Research, 10(2), 215–34.
Dews, C. L. B. and Williams, M. S. (1989). Student musicians’ personality styles, stresses,
and coping patterns. Psychology of Music, 17, 37–47.
Ericsson, K. A. (1996). The road to excellence: The acquisition of expert performance in the
arts and sciences, sports and games. New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associated, Inc.
Ericsson, K. A. (2002). Attaining excellence through deliberate practice: Insights from the
study of expert performance. In C. Desforges & F. Fox (Eds), Teaching and learning.
Oxford: Blackwell.
Ericsson, K. A. (2003). The search for general abilities and basic capacities. In R. J. Sternberg
and E. L. Grigorenko (Eds), The psychology of abilities, competencies, and expertise
(pp. 93–125). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ericsson, K. A. and Smith, J. (1991) Toward a general theory of expertise. New York:
Cambridge University Press.
Ericsson, K. A., Prietula, M. J. & Cokely, E. T. (2007). The making of an expert. Harvard
Business Review, July–August 2007, 115–21.
Developing and Maintaining Expertise in Musical Performance 317
Ericsson, K. A., Krampe, R. T. & Tesch-Römer, C. (1993). The role of deliberate practice in
the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological Review, 100(3), 363–406.
Ericsson, K. S. & Charness, N. (1994). Expert performance: Its structure and acquisition.
American Psychologist, 49, 725–47.
Fishbein, M., Middlestadt, S. E., Ottati, V., Strauss, S. & Ellis, A. (1988), Medical problems
among ISCOM musicians: Overview of a national survey. Medical Problems of
Performing Artists, 3, 1–8.
Fitts, P. M. & Posner, M. I. (1967). Human performance. Belmont, CA: Brooks Cole.
Folkman, S. & Lazarus, R. S. (1980). An analysis of coping in a middle-aged community
sample. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 21, 219–39.
Folkman, S., Lazarus, R. S., DeLongis, A. & Gruen, R. J. (1986). Dynamics of a stressful
encounter: Cognitive appraisal, coping, and encounter outcomes. Journal of Personality
and Social Psychology, 50(5), 992–1003.
Gates, A. G. & Montalbo, P. J. (1987). The effect of low-dose beta blockade on performance
anxiety in singers. Journal of Voice, 1(1), 105–8.
Gruber, H., Degner, S. & Lehmann, A. C. (2004). Why do some commit themselves
in deliberate practice for many years – and so many do not? Understanding the
development of professionalism in music. In M. Radovan & N. Dordević (Eds), Current
issues in adult learning and motivation (pp. 222–35). Ljubljana: Slovenian Institute for
Adult Education.
Hallam, S. (1998). Instrumental teaching: A practical guide to better teaching and learning.
Oxford: Heinemann.
Hamann, D. L. (1982). An assessment of anxiety in instrumental and vocal performances.
Journal of Research in Music Education, 30(2), 77–90.
Kemp, A. E. (1996). The musical temperament: Psychology and personality of musicians.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Kenny, D. & Osborne, M. S. (2006). Music performance anxiety: New insights from young
musicians. Advances in Cognitive Psychology, 2(2–3), 103–12.
Kesselring, J. (2006). Music performance anxiety. In E. Altenmüller, M. Wiesendanger &
J. Kesselring (Eds), Music, motor control and the brain (pp. 309–18). Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Lehman, A. C. & Gruber, H. (2006). Music. In K. A. Ericsson, N. Charness, P. J. Feltovitch
& R. R. Hoffman (Eds), The Cambridge handbook of expertise and expert performance
(pp. 457–70). New York: Cambridge University Press.
Lehmann, A. C., Sloboda, J. A. & Woody, R. H. (2007). Psychology for musicians.
Understanding and acquiring the skills. New York: Oxford University Press.
Manturzewska, M. (1990). A biographical study of the life-span development of professional
musicians. Psychology of Music, 18(2), 112–39.
McNamara, A., Holmes, P. & Collins, D. (2006). The pathway to excellence: The role of
psychological characteristics in negotiating the challenges of musical development.
British Journal of Music Education, 23(3), 285–302.
Papageorgi, I. (2006). Understanding performance anxiety in the adolescent musician.
(Unpublished PhD thesis.) Institute of Education, University of London.
Papageorgi, I. (2007a). The influence of the wider context of learning, gender, age and
individual differences on adolescent musicians’ performance anxiety. In A. Williamon
& D. Coimbra (Eds), Proceedings of the International Symposium on Performance
Science 2007 (pp. 219–24), European Association of Conservatoires. Utrecht,
The Netherlands.
318 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Introduction
We are educators with a background in human biology, medicine and music, and when
giving presentations on injury prevention in musicians we are sometimes asked whether
performance arts medicine really deserves a role in the formal education of music students.
this is not an entirely unexpected question given that performing arts medicine is a relatively
new branch of occupational health. only a small proportion of clinicians and other health
professionals are currently aware of it and even fewer have received training in this field.
Within the crowded curriculum of music schools and conservatoires, it must compete with
traditional subjects that are central to the understanding and performance of music. in this
chapter, we hope to demonstrate that formal instruction in issues relating to the health and
well-being of music students is not only sufficiently important to merit inclusion in the
musical curriculum, but actually a means of enhancing performance. We will justify this
position by revealing the extent of performance related health problems among musicians
in general and music students in Higher education in particular. the studies we cite
demonstrate the consequences of being in an intensely competitive musical environment
in which psychological pressures and long hours of practise combine to affect the health of
future performers and in some cases limit their ability to achieve their professional goals.
But what is to be done about this? setting up courses on musicians’ health and well-being
may appear daunting for educational institutions that have no previous expertise in this
rather specialised area. By reviewing a number of existing courses we will demonstrate a
range of approaches and examples of good practice that will help music educators devise
programmes appropriate to their institutions.
The World Health Organization (WHO) defines health as ‘… a state of complete
physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity’.
in the context of musicians’ health this encapsulates the importance of both physical and
psychological factors and their interrelationship. it also underlines the importance of
social interactions, such as those with peers, teachers and audiences. communication with
audiences and other players is at the heart of the vocational element of a musical career and
is one reason why any suggestion by an unsympathetic physician that an injured musician
should consider an alternative profession (Price & Watson, 2011), is so psychologically
devastating. In the context of our definition, the ‘absence of infirmity’ might seem to
refer only to performance-related disease or injury; however this is too narrow a view.
the cumulative effects of physical fatigue and mental stress that develop over time are
influenced by activities that extend beyond the practice or performance of music to include
those that are part of daily living. A minor physical injury or psychological stress arising
320 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
from a domestic or recreational activity, or from social or other forms of behaviour, may be
exacerbated or prevented from resolving by performance related activities. This is something
that needs to be addressed, not only in the case histories taken by physicians dealing with
performers, but also in courses dealing with musicians’ health. What should be advocated
is not a simplistic approach in which a series of discrete strategies are implemented in the
absence of a general context, but one in which they are fully integrated into the lifestyle and
performance practices of the musician.
The notion that musical performance can result in physical injury was first put forward
by Bernardino Ramazzini in his book De morbis artificum diatriba (A discourse on the
diseases of workers) first published in 1700 (Ramazzini, 1964). Based partly on his own
experiences and partly on the writings of earlier physicians, this was the first systematic
review of occupational health. It was far ahead of its time, as the subject was not formally
established as a medical discipline until the mid twentieth century. Though recognisable
descriptions of performance-related problems in musicians (e.g., focal dystonia) appeared
in the medical literature of the late nineteenth century (Haward, 1887; Poore, 1887), music
medicine did not finally emerge as a discipline until 1926 when the German neurologist
Kurt Singer published a book on Berufskrankheiten der musiker (Occupational diseases of
musicians) (see Singer, 1932). In recent decades, the problems of musicians have become
more formally recognised by interested clinicians through the formation of a number of
national societies such as the British Association for Performing Arts Medicine in 1984,
the Performing Arts Medicine Association in the US (1989), Médecine des Arts in France
(1991), and the Deutsche Gesellschaft für Musikphysiologie und Musikermedizin (1994).
Similar organisations are now also to be found in New Zealand, the Netherlands, Austria,
Switzerland and Ireland.
The current resurgence of interest in musicians’ health arguably began in the 1980s with
the publication of several pioneering surveys of orchestral musicians (Caldron et al., 1986;
Fishbein et al., 1988; Fry, 1986), which revealed the prevalence of performance-related
injury and stimulated research into how this might be reduced. Subsequently, a number
of books were written on the subject either by musicians who had faced and overcome
career-threatening injuries (Horvath, 2010; Paull & Harrison, 1997) or by others with a
more medical or scientific background (Sataloff et al., 1998; 2010; Watson, 2009; Winspur
& Wynn Parry, 1998). Their object is to raise awareness of the problem among musicians
and the physicians who treat them and to discuss preventative strategies. Nevertheless,
even today there is still a reluctance among musicians to talk openly about playing-related
health issues, perhaps because advertising any hint of weakness in the highly competitive
world of professional music is considered potentially damaging to career development
(McWeeney, 2009). On the other hand, failure to discuss the issue leads to a lack of
appreciation in those previously unaffected of the early signs of injury and of the strategies
that may prevent these developing or limit their impact. It is for this reason that considerable
numbers of conservatoires and music schools are now starting to develop courses in
general health and injury prevention. Even as students, musicians are at considerable risk
of performance related pain and injury (Guptill et al., 2000; Kreutz et al., 2008a; Williamon
& Thompson, 2006). Several surveys comparing music students with non-music students
have revealed that they do indeed have a greater risk of physical or psychological ill health
Developing Expertise and Professionalism 321
(Ginsborg et al., 2009; Miller et al., 2002; Spahn et al., 2004). One that compared music
students who played at least seven hours a week with those who played less or not at
all, found that those who practised intensively were twice as likely to complain of upper
body pain (particularly in the shoulder, elbow or wrist), though less likely to report pain
in the lower body. Gender may also be a significant factor as another study reported that
women musicians were 3.6 times as likely to report upper back pain and 2.8 times as likely
to report shoulder pain as their male counterparts, whereas among non-music students,
females complained less of shoulder pain (Roach et al., 1994). Of course it is important to
acknowledge that questionnaire-based studies have their limitations. There is no attempt at
objective diagnosis and there may be a gender difference in the willingness to acknowledge
or report injury. The surveys also have a range of formats and ask different questions;
nevertheless most come to similar general conclusions.
Music students report considerably more musculoskeletal pain than even sports students
(Miller et al., 2002; Spahn et al., 2002; Spahn et al., 2004) and also exhibit higher levels of
anxiety (Spahn et al., 2004). The scale of the problem can be appreciated from one study
in which 22% of music students had physical problems only, 24% reported psychosocial
problems and 34% had problems in both areas (Spahn et al., 2002). Though physical and
psychological symptoms are sometimes unrelated, they are often linked, either through
somatization (apparent physical symptoms arising from psychological stressors) or through
stress resulting from an inability to perform adequately or at all because of a physical
problem. Music students also show below average levels of physical activity for their
age group and perhaps more surprisingly, less involvement in stress management (Kreutz
et al., 2009) and so may be poorly prepared for the physical and psychological rigours of a
musical career. A very strong argument for teaching musicians about health issues in higher
education institutions is therefore that it can be perceived as part of their duty of care to
their students, and that preventing and managing performance related injury (which may
have major financial and psychological implications) are core skills for the professional
musician. Indeed they should not be seen as being separate from performance technique,
but rather an integral component, which in the long run will enhance performance.
Most studies of health problems in musicians have focussed on classical orchestras or
on students at specialist music schools, colleges or conservatoires teaching in the classical
tradition. A major reason for this is that they provide access to large numbers of individuals,
facilitating statistical analysis. However, instrumental (Doerschuk, 1994; Planas, 1982) and
vocal musicians (Davies and Jahn, 2004; Sataloff, 1998) working in other genres are at least
as vulnerable to similar injuries, if not more so, as their initial technique is more likely to
have been self taught.
Though the competitive environment of the conservatoire may contribute to the risk
of developing performance-related health problems, several authors have drawn attention
to the proportion of incoming students who have already experienced playing-related
musculoskeletal injury (Spaulding, 1988; Zander et al., 2010). In one study, over 80%
reported previous playing-related pain (Brandfonbrener, 2009), while in others 38% reported
previous injuries (Kreutz et al., 2008b) and 25%, current injuries (Spahn et al., 2004).
Though the conservatoire is an important venue for the delivery of information on healthy
practices, these statistics demonstrate that their dissemination must start at earlier (and
perhaps the earliest) stages in a young musician’s career (Ramella et al., 2008). This is
supported not only by questionnaires in which school-age musicians self report their
physical symptoms (Brown, 1997; Lockwood, 1988; Ranelli et al., 2008; Shoup, 1995),
but also from a few studies that have incorporated medical assessment (Fry et al., 1988;
322 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Fry & Rowley, 1989). Some focussed on pupils in specialist music schools, while others
looked at those attending normal schools (though even here some were practising more
than 2.5 hours a day). Their mean ages were in most cases 14–15 years. Although the
prevalence of playing-related pain varies with instrument and playing intensity and is not
identical across all studies, collectively they suggest that up to 60% of the young musicians
experienced playing-related pain. The reported levels of musculoskeletal symptoms and
disorders increase with age. This rises from the 7–9 years to 15–17 years age bands, at
which point it appears to reach a plateau (Ranelli et al., 2008). Somewhat ominously, it
has been suggested that this represents a survivor effect, i.e., it indicates that the most
vulnerable have been eliminated through attrition! Manchester (2009) reworked this data
and drew the conclusion that the prevalence of physical injury starts to rise in the year of
peak increase in height velocity which is also a period when other physical parameters are
rapidly changing against a background of the psychological and behavioural upheaval of
adolescence. Some studies of young musicians examine performance anxiety specifically.
In one which focussed on junior high school students (mean age 14 years) this interfered
with performance in more than half of the subjects and was rated severe in nearly 20%
(Shoup, 1995). It is therefore clear that good posture and practice strategies and the
development of techniques to manage stage fright need to form part of a musician’s training
at all stages and should not be ignored until entry into a conservatoire (Zander et al., 2010).
As Brown (1997) states, ‘music teachers are not always aware that they are the designers of
student performance habits’ (p. 17).
Birkedahl (1989) goes even further when discussing teaching the violin to very young
children, saying that ‘the seeds of these (musculoskeletal) problems may be planted on the
very first day a child takes up an instrument, usually in the first lesson’ (Birkedahl, 1989,
p. 176). She describes how a child’s posture and muscle control can be evaluated by some
simple tests before he or she is presented with an instrument for the first time. This provides
the insight needed to nurture good playing practices from the very outset. Developing an
appreciation of the physical aspects of performance, therefore, needs to form part of the
training of all music teachers. Though the rudiments can be quite readily mastered when
taught (Guptill & Zaza, 2010), they may not be obvious to those unfamiliar with basic
biological principles underpinning musical performance.
The importance of music teachers as sources of information when problems arise is
demonstrated by an analysis of the attitudes of students to physical and psychological
health. Before approaching medical practitioners, most go to their principle study teacher
(i.e., instrumental or vocal teacher) for advice (Williamon & Thompson, 2006). Given that
students identify strongly with their teachers and list them in career biographies, this is not
surprising. However, the levels of injury reported by music teachers among their pupils are
often much lower than would be expected from the surveys discussed previously, which
suggests that students may often be reluctant to raise such issues even with their mentors
(Quarrier, 1995). In the absence of specific training, the expertise of teachers in health issues
and the promotion of safe posture or practices will be limited. In one analysis of the role
of piano teachers in promoting healthy practices, it was found that their knowledge of this
issue came mainly from their own teachers or from colleagues and workshops (Redmond
& Tiernan, 2001), implying that it was probably largely anecdotal, and that very little came
from their formal college training.
An examination of the level of understanding of performance-related injury among
music teachers revealed that while opinions about its likely origins were fairly accurate,
there was a lack of awareness of the effectiveness of basic first aid procedures that might be
Developing Expertise and Professionalism 323
useful to injured musicians (Quarrier, 1995). Interestingly, though the incidence of playing-
related injury amongst string and keyboard players is similar, keyboard teachers appeared
less knowledgeable than string teachers on health matters. It is therefore important that
educational programmes not only target teachers of the future, but also try to reach those who
are currently in post and well established. This same can be said for awareness of physical
aspects of performance that are central to the development and efficient communication
of technique. For example, there is considerable confusion and disagreement about the
mechanism of breathing in singers and wind players (Gaunt, 2004; Watson & Hixon, 1985)
even in the publications of widely respected teachers, and though there are also some
good accounts (Kelly, 1998; Sears, 1977), most of these have not gained the prominence
they deserve.
Student Perceptions
Though some music students today may still, unfortunately, regard pain and fatigue during
practice as normal (Kreutz et al., 2008a), there is an emerging realisation that musicians
are a relatively high-risk group in terms of occupational injury and that signs that may
presage this deserve close attention (Williamon & Thompson, 2006). It is, nevertheless,
to be expected that those who have remained injury free may feel that they do not need to
concern themselves with preventative behaviours, thereby unnecessarily increasing the risk
of developing an injury in the future. This is reflected in a study of the efficacy of a course
promoting healthy playing behaviour in Freiburg, in which a control group of students
who elected not to take part in the course reported fewer physical symptoms or signs of
emotional disturbance (Spahn et al., 2001). Teaching good practice need not always be
delivered under the label of injury prevention, but can probably best be introduced in early
musical training simply as a part of an optimal strategy for acquiring a good technique that
will help a player to reach his or her full potential. However it was observed by Spaulding
(1988), who pioneered a course on injury prevention for musicians in Trondheim, that older
students found it more difficult to absorb into their performance technique new practices
designed to reduced discomfort,.
Hochschule für Musik in Freiburg where lectures are provided by the Freiburger Institut für
Musikermedizin (Spahn et al., 2001). All instrumental and vocal students take compulsory
courses in relevant physiological and health issues in addition to being offered electives and
the opportunity for physiological research.
Health education for musicians in the US is strongly influenced by the activities of
the Performing Arts Medicine Association (PAMA). In collaboration with the University
of North Texas, it ran a conference on Health Promotion in Schools of Music (HPSM)
in 2004, whose object was to formulate a set of health promotion goals to help US music
colleges build a coherent approach to the teaching of performance-related health issues
(Chesky et al., 2006). The conference produced a number of declarations including an
acknowledgment that performance-related injuries are preventable and that schools of
music should provide appropriate health education and encourage students to take personal
responsibility for their health. It was noted that student behaviour would be most effectively
influenced by the collective values, beliefs and actions of the institutions. As many of the
physical and psychological problems of musicians have their origins in their pre-college
experiences, it should also be the aim of the colleges to develop health consciousness in the
music educators of the future (Chesky et al., 2006). It was recommended that all colleges 1)
adopt a health promotion framework, 2) develop and offer occupational health courses for
all music undergraduates, 3) educate students about hearing loss and 4) actively engage
with health care providers so that they become aware of the occupational health issues of
musicians. This last recommendation is an important one, as when faced with an injured
musician, non-specialist clinicians may not fully appreciate the extent to which musical
performance can have an impact on physical health. Despite the current rising tide of
interest in the subject, there are few opportunities for clinicians and health practitioners to
train formally in music medicine (Harman, 1998). Certainly, where enthusiastic clinicians
are active, medical students may be given an introduction to the subject, as happens for
example, in the Medical Faculty of the University of Freiburg. However, one promising
recent development is a postgraduate M.Sc. course in Performing Arts Medicine, which
began in 2011 at University College London. Otherwise, interested clinicians and health
providers must rely on the growing list of textbooks that deal with the subject (Sataloff
et al., 2010; Spahn et al., 2011; Tubiana and Amadio, 2000; Watson, 2009; Winspur &
Wynn Parry, 1998). In the UK they can also apply to join the practitioner directory of the
British Association of Performing Arts Medicine (BAPAM) and through this organisation
acquire some specific training that will enhance their ability to treat the occupational health
problems of professional and student performers.
In the US, a considerable number of conservatoires now offer courses in healthy
performance practices and injury prevention for musicians and they typically cover
musculoskeletal problems, practice strategies, hearing preservation, vocal health
and performance anxiety. The structure and aims of several of these are summarised
in a series of short articles in the journal Medical Problems of Performing Artists (see
Manchester, 2007a; b; c).
The challenges of the second recommendation of the HPSM conference can be
gauged by the very considerable variation in content and scope of such courses. As might
be expected, they reflect the expertise and interests of those who run them. Courses such
as those at Northwestern and North Texas Universities benefit from having input from
specialist clinicians who are actively involved in treating musicians and in promoting
health issues through PAMA. The courses bring together the scientific, performance-
related and clinical aspects of performance injury and its prevention and back this up with
Developing Expertise and Professionalism 325
classes that match theory with practice. In order to encourage active engagement with
health promotion, students may be encouraged to carry out small research projects whose
results they communicated to the class. In others, the practical element may be instruction
in postural techniques popular with musicians such as the Alexander technique, Feldenkreis
and Pilates. Some explicitly profess the aim of transmitting performance health information
to young performers through their graduates as they take up teaching positions within the
school system and beyond. Most current courses are electives, often with a class limit, and
few involve all music majors.
The North Texas course, which is particularly extensive, has a year-long schedule of
activities involving several types of teaching and learning activity (face-to-face, e-learning,
assessments, workshops, theory lectures, practical discussions and activities, research
projects, mentorships, etc.). One of its features is to ask the students to keep a reflective
journal of their own experiences. This is designed to encourage them to take personal
responsibility for their own health, a goal shared by the majority of the US courses, as it
increases the likelihood that the course will have an impact on student behaviour.
A number of colleges in the UK also have well-developed or emerging health programs.
At the Royal College of Music (RCM), the Centre for Performance Science, which carries out
performance-related research (Williamon, 2004), is the driving force behind a course entitled
‘Healthy Body, Healthy Mind, Healthy Music’ that is taken by all first-year undergraduates.
It covers the anatomical, physiological and psychological basis of musicianship in the
context of instrumental and vocal health and as a practical component, it offers classes in
the Alexander Technique, yoga and Pilates. A course of similar design is now available at
the Royal Northern College of Music (RNCM), which also has a strong commitment to the
health of music students. The Centre for Music Performance Research at RNCM collaborates
with RCM in research into student attitudes to these courses (Ginsborg et al., 2009).
The Guildhall School of Music takes a rather different approach, integrating sessions
on the physical and psychological components of performance in a course that also
deals with improvisation and creativity. The Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama
(RWCMD) runs a Healthy Musician programme with which one of the present authors is
heavily involved. It is the result of an innovative collaboration between musicians, health
professionals and bioscientists. All first year students take a short course of 10 lectures
called ‘Enhancing Performance’ that cover effective practice, performance-related stress,
mental skills training, playing-related fitness and injury, hearing protection and lifestyle
issues. An elective course for second or third year students (‘Biology for Musicians’), gives
singers and instrumentalists a grounding in the anatomy and physiology of performance,
performance-related injury and its avoidance, while in later years students have the option
to write dissertations on related topics or become involved in practical science-based
projects on the physiology of performance through vocational placements or as part of an
M.Mus. degree. This gives them the opportunity to work with science students of a similar
age from Cardiff University.
Some of the additional benefits that can be gained from a conservatoire-based health
programme can be seen in the following two case studies from RWCMD. Students whose
playing is curtailed by injury may find becoming involved in research into musicians’
health problems not only keeps them in touch with their peers in the musical world, but also
allows them to gain something positive from their experiences. For example, a cello student
who, after suffering an arm injury, had to transfer from a performance-based degree to a
more theoretical one, visited Weimar to learn about musician’s medicine and on her return
carried out research into physical problems in percussionists, an area that is under-studied.
326 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
As part of her degree she wrote a dissertation on occupational health issues in musicians.
Subsequently she was able to return to performance in a genre that did not require long
hours of playing.
Some of our music students elect to carry out short bioscience projects on aspects
of performance that particularly interest them. For example, a horn student who was
experimenting personally with breath trainers decided to use physiological methods to
study their effect on respiratory performance and on breathing during playing in a group of
fellow students. The results of such studies can then be communicated more broadly to the
performance community.
It is clear from the foregoing list that occupational health education in music colleges
and conservatoires varies greatly in scope and content. Setting up such a course from
scratch may initially appear quite daunting. However, reviewing what is offered in other
institutions will help music educators to find a format that is practical for them, given the
available expertise and the priorities of their institution. In doing this they may be able to
draw on the experience of physicians, physiotherapists, sports scientists, physiologists and
anatomists who have links with their institution. The involvement of musicians who have
developed a knowledge of relevant subjects (often as a result of their own experiences
of injury) is particularly to be welcomed as they are among the strongest advocates of
such courses and their personal stories may reinforce the importance of the advice they
give the students. Within the UK, the British Association of Performing Arts Medicine
provides advice and training to those interested in teaching such courses and is actively
developing appropriate teaching materials to help them engage students effectively. It can
also provide speakers to contribute to new courses, both from its own staff and from various
institutions in which courses are already running. An indication of what should be included
in a comprehensive course is outlined in the next section.
While the subjects covered by courses on musician’s well-being may initially be restricted
by circumstances, the ultimate aim should be to cover all of the key areas relating to the
physical and psychological aspects of performance. A summary of what might be presented
in a fully developed and comprehensive course is given below. More detailed information on
all of the topics listed is readily available from the following sources (Davies & Jahn, 2004;
Horvath, 2010; Klickstein, 2009; Paull & Harrison, 1997; Watson, 2009; Williamon, 2004).
When considering this list, it should be noted that information should always be presented
in a musical context; i.e., considerations of body structure or posture should constantly
be related to particular instruments so that its relevance is clear. Practical sessions are an
important means of engaging the students, and of showing them how they can apply what
they have learned to their practice and pre-performance routines.
1. basic knowledge of anatomy of the back, neck, shoulder and upper limb;
2. neck and back posture in standing and sitting when performing including
consideration of seat design and how players can alter this using portable devices;
3. areas of risk in the back and upper limb e.g., sites of nerve and tendon compression;
neck and back posture in standing and sitting;
4. common musculoskeletal problems of the upper limb, their origins and
attendant symptoms;
Developing Expertise and Professionalism 327
A few studies have sought to demonstrate the efficacy of programmes promoting health
awareness and good practice to music students, though for a variety of reasons, this has
not proved particularly easy to achieve. Twenty-two music students in Freiburg who
took a course that included both theoretical teaching and practical instruction in postural
and learning techniques, showed a greater improvement in their subjective perception
of physical and psychological well-being than a control group who did not (Spahn
et al., 2001). However, though a second study involving nearly 250 students at the
same institution confirmed the psychological benefits of the course, they failed to show
a reduction in the physical symptoms. As a result, the authors stressed the importance
of a parallel programme of therapeutic support to treat pre-existing symptoms resulting
from overuse (Zander et al., 2010). The full benefit of such courses will generally not
be seen in dramatic immediate results, but only become apparent over the musician’s
career. Barton and Feinberg (2008) found that though the information presented in a course
run for freshmen at a US university was well retained, this took some weeks to manifest
itself as a modest change in behaviour. However, given these distractions of student life,
exhortations to sleep longer and avoid smoke-filled rooms may have been unrealistic! With
rare exceptions (Hildebrandt & Nubling, 2004), courses in conservatoires are directed at
students rather than instrumental and vocal teachers who, it is clear from what has been
discussed previously, exert most influence over students. Training them to deliver effective
guidance on health issues is vital, and one positive development has been the creation of an
328 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
annotated database on musicians wellness on the website of the Music Teachers National
Association in the US.
Some studies (Kreutz et al., 2009) have suggested that ‘healthy lifestyles’ do not
affect self-perceptions of the quality of practice and performance. However, the results
are crucially dependent on the questions posed; the few examples provided for this survey
suggested that very diverse factors (e.g., physical activity, diet, social and emotional factors)
were conflated under the heading of healthy lifestyles and that they lacked sufficient detail
to allow meaningful conclusions to be drawn. Furthermore, unless the student subjects had
recently switched from a ‘non-healthy’ to a ‘healthy’ lifestyle, their responses would only
indicate the level of satisfaction with the status quo.
Not all health awareness programmes are directed at student musicians. In the UK, the
Healthy Orchestra Charter devised by the Musicians Benevolent Fund and the Association
of British Orchestras, seeks to promote healthy practices among orchestral musicians.
Unfortunately, the only attempt to assess the impact of such a scheme (in this case in the
US) was undermined by a high dropout rate (Brandfonbrener, 1997).
Conclusion
It is clear that the incidence of injury among college and pre-college musicians is too high
to be ignored by academic institutions, which nowadays must show a duty of care to their
students. Nevertheless, devising suitable courses in a field that is not traditionally associated
with conservatoires undoubtedly poses considerable challenges. Schemes that are currently
running in Europe and North America show that a variety of models can be used, depending
on the background of the instructors who are available. Approaches in which musicians and
health professionals collaborate and learn from each other are likely to be most effective,
as are those which combine theory and practice. Even a simple recognition of the nature
and prevalence of performance-related health problems in the student community and the
development of a supportive atmosphere within an institution that encourages them to seek
help and promotes their recovery, is an important beginning. It has been our experience that
the students are responsive to these if the relevance to performance is made clear, and that
they have little difficulty in assimilating the biological principles on which these are based.
The long-term goal of such courses should be that the healthy practices which optimise
performance and limit the risk of injury become so integrated into practical music teaching
that they are barely perceived as embodying a separate discipline. However, if we have
to wait for today’s students to carry their new skills into the wider teaching community;
this may take some time. Given the prevalence of performance-related problems among
pre-college musicians, such a delay would be unfortunate and so short courses for existing
music teachers would be a considerable advantage. These need to be responsive to the
concerns that existing teachers may have that new practices (for example, promoting less
risky postures), may contradict their existing ideas. Such conflicts need to be resolved
sensitively through a meaningful dialogue. In this new and developing field it is also
important not to be overly dogmatic. One significant feature of studies of performance
physiology is that individual differences in physical parameters such as body morphology,
joint flexibility and lung capacity etc., have a marked effect on what is possible for each
person and it is crucial that this be taken into account in teaching. Health courses, therefore,
need to teach the principles which musicians can then apply to themselves and their pupils
in a way that encourages them to take this into consideration.
Developing Expertise and Professionalism 329
References
Klickstein, G. (2009). The musician’s way : A guide to practice, performance, and wellness.
Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press.
Kreutz, G., Ginsborg, J. & Williamon, A. (2008a). Music students’ health problems and
health-promoting behaviours. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 23(1), 3–11.
Kreutz, G., Ginsborg, J. & Williamon A. (2009). Health-promoting behaviours in
conservatoire students. Psychology of Music, 37(1), 47–60.
Kreutz, G., Schubert, E. & Mitchell, L. A. (2008b). Cognitive styles of music listening.
Music Perception, 26(1), 57–73.
Lockwood, A. H. (1988). Medical problems in secondary school aged musicians. Medical
Problems of Performing Artists, 3, 129–32.
Manchester, R. A. (2007a). Health promotion courses for music students: Part I. Medical
Problems of Performing Artists, 22, 26–9.
Manchester, R. A. (2007b). Health promotion courses for music students: Part II. Medical
Problems of Performing Artists, 22, 80–81.
Manchester, R. A. (2007c). Health promotion courses for music students: Part III. Medical
Problems of Performing Artists, 22, 116–19.
Manchester R. A. (2009). Looking at musicians health through the “ages”. Medical
Problems of Performing Artists, 24, 55–56.
McWeeney, J. (2009). Injury time. Classical Music, August, 20–21.
Miller, G., Peck, F. & Watson, J. S. (2002). Pain disorders and variations in upper limb
morphology in music students. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 17, 169–72.
Paull, B. & Harrison C. (1997). The athletic musician: A guide to playing without pain.
Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press.
Planas, J. (1982). Rupture of the orbicularis oris in trumpet players (Satchmo’s syndrome).
Plastic Reconstructive Surgery, 69(4), 690–93.
Poore, V. (1887). On certain conditions of the hand and arm which interfere with
the performance of professional acts, especially piano-playing. British Medical
Journal, 1(1365), 441–4.
Price, K. & Watson, A. H. D. (2011). Case study: Postural problems of the left shoulder in
an orchestral trombonist. Work, 40, 317–24.
Quarrier, N. F. (1995). Survey of music teachers: Perceptions about music-related injuries.
Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 10, 106–10.
Ramazzini, B. (1964). Diseases of workers. New York: Hafner Pub. Co.
Ramella, M., Fronte, F., Rainero, G. & Converti, R. M. (2008). Diesis projects: Postural
diseases in conservatory students. Milan. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 137.
Ranelli, S. , Straker, L. & Smith, A. (2008). Prevalence of playing-related musculoskeletal
symptoms and disorders in children learning instrumental music. Medical Problems of
Performing Artists, 23, 178–85.
Redmond, M. & Tiernan, A. M. (2001). Knowledge and practices of piano teachers
in preventing playing-related injuries in high school students. Medical Problems of
Performing Artists, 16, 32–8.
Roach, K. E., Martinez, M. A. & Anderson, N. (1994). Musculoskeletal pain in student
instrumentalists: A comparison with the general student population. Medical Problems
of Performing Artists, 9.
Sataloff, R. T. (1998). Care of the professional voice. In R. T. Sataloff, A. G. Brandfonbrener
& R. J. Lederman (Eds), Performing arts medicine (pp. 137–77). San Diego: Singular
Publishing Group.
Developing Expertise and Professionalism 331
susan Hallam
Introduction
the music profession is diverse. it includes musicians who make music in a wide range
of different genres; in different combinations (alone, in small or large groups); who have
full time employment in music, a port-folio career or work full time in another occupation;
those who teach; those who compose, and arrange music and contribute in various ways
to its technological production (sound engineers, producers); and those who write about,
analyse and critique music. the career opportunities for musicians change over time
depending on a wide range of cultural factors. currently, in the developed world there are
few full time performing employment opportunities, for instance in orchestras, although
there is variability between countries depending on the extent to which the arts receive state
funding. As a result the majority of performing musicians are self-employed for at least part
of their work and have what has become known as a portfolio career, which may include
teaching, performing, composing, writing and managing (gembris & langner, 2006;
creech et al., 2008a; 2008b; Holzenspies, 2009; coulson, 2010). those entering the music
profession have to learn to deal with the financial insecurity and unpredictability that this
brings, the long working hours, and the lack of recognition of practice preparation time in
their remuneration (Holzenspies, 2009). this being the case, what underlies motivation to
join or stay in the music profession?
over the years there have been many attempts to understand and explain human motivation.
recent conceptualisations emphasise the way that our perceptions of events in the
environment which have meaning for us are determined by our construction of them,
these interpretations subsequently influencing our self-esteem, self-efficacy, identity and
motivation. Models of motivation acknowledge the capacity of individuals to determine
their own behaviour, whilst also recognising the role of the environment in rewarding
or punishing particular behaviours in this way influencing subsequent cognitions and
later actions. there has also been increasing recognition that motivation operates at
different levels and across different time scales (for reviews see Asmus, 1994; o’neill
&McPherson, 2002; Austin et al., 2006; Hallam, 2002a; 2009; sichivitsa, 2007).
The factors that previous research has identified as contributing to motivation to continue
playing an instrument or engage in vocal activities can be conceptualised in relation to
four main themes: music acting to satisfy personal needs; developing and maintaining a
334 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
positive musical identity; acquiring appropriate approaches to learning music; and having a
supportive environment. These are set out below:
• The satisfaction derived from music itself (a love of music) which seems to meet
emotional and hedonistic needs and leads to music being valued (Nagel, 1987;
Persson et al., 1996; O’Neill, 1999; Asmus & Harrison; 1990; Pitts et al., 2000;
Martin, 2008);
• fulfilment of the need for achievement, curiosity and self-actualisation (Motte-
Haber, 1984; Persson et al., 1996; Chaffin and Lemieux, 2004);
• autonomy in determining engagement with music (Burland and Davidson, 2004;
Austin et al., 2006; MacNamara et al., 2006; Creech et al; 2008a); and
• satisfaction derived from positive social responses to successful playing and
performance (Nagel, 1987; Persson et al., 1996).
• Setting and achieving high musical standards (Burland & Davidson, 2004;
MacNamara et al., 2006; Creech et al., 2008a);
• the acquisition and retention of a positive musical self-concept (Austin, 1991;
Wigfield et al., 1997; Austin & Vispoel 1992; Martin, 2008);
• sustaining self-efficacy in relation to making music (McPherson &
McCormick, 1999; 2006);
• maintaining self-belief (MacNamara et al., 2006; Creech et al., 2008a; 2009; Long
et al., 2010); and
• demonstrating resilience when there is frequent negative feedback (Duke &
Henninger, 1998) and developing the capacity to manage strong feelings and
impulses (Werner, 1995).
• The adoption of mastery goals (a focus on constant improvement, the desire to learn
new skills, master new tasks or understand new things) (Chaffin & Lemieux, 2004;
Schmidt, 2005; Smith, 2005; Martin, 2008);
• seeking autonomy in choice of repertoire (Renwick &McPherson, 2002);
• the adoption of appropriate attribution strategies which focus on effort, practice
and strategy use to explain success or failure (Asmus 1986; Vispoel & Austin,1993;
McPherson & McCormick,1999);
• being able to make realistic plans (Burland & Davidson, 2004; MacNamara
et al., 2006; Creech et al., 2008a; Coulson, 2010); and
• having a range of practice strategies, an understanding of how to practice effectively,
and being able to manage practice (Manturzewska, 1990; Jorgensen, 2004;
Jorgensen & Hallam, 2009).
Developing and Maintaining Motivation in Advanced Music Performers 335
• Family, friends and colleagues (Howe & Sloboda, 1991; Burland & Davidson, 2002;
MacNamara et al., 2006; Creech, et al., 2008a; Creech, 2009); and
• teachers (Sosniak 1985; Sloboda & Howe 1991; Lamont, 2002; Szubertowska, 2005)
who also act as role models (Manturzewska, 1990); and
• the institution (Jørgensen, 1997; Hallam and Prince 2000; Papageorgi et al., 2010).
There are many different routes into the music profession and those followed depend to
a great extent on musical genre, although formal institutional training is now on offer in
many genres including jazz, folk, popular music and musical theatre. However, for non-
classical musicians informal learning or self- or family- tuition is common, (Green, 2001;
Coulson, 2010), with total immersion in music from an early age seeming to make a major
contribution (Coulson, 2010; Davidson et el., 1995). Whatever the musical genre, the
individual seeks to become part of a community of practice moving from its periphery to
a more central position. Where learning takes place within the community of practice, this
process may occur seamlessly. For instance, when playing in a jazz group, the learner will
initially learn from listening to more experienced others and practising improvisation in
solitary practice. She or he will gradually be given opportunities for short solo breaks, and
over time, if these are perceived as successful, will be given more frequent opportunities.
Overtime, credibility within the group will be acknowledged and the individual’s role as a
member confirmed. In contrast, where training takes place in higher education institutions
aspiring musicians have to make the transition from a full-time educational environment to
the music profession. This is not always an easy process, and to successfully negotiate the
transition young people need to be motivated, versatile, adaptable, open to new learning
opportunities, and have a strong identity as a musician (Burland & Davidson, 2002; Creech
et al., 2008a; Bennett, 2009; Smilde, 2009).
The nature of the musical identity developed within the higher education community
is particularly important in determining career paths. Identities are not static. They are
constructed and over time contested, negotiated and renegotiated as the individual
interacts with others. During study in higher education, students go through a transitional
process where they identify with like-minded others and mutually affirm and strengthen
their perception of themselves as musicians (Burland & Davidson, 2004; MacNamara
et al., 2006; Creech et al., 2008a; Juuti & Littleton, 2010). A wide range of events can act
as turning points influencing future aspirations, plans and self-perceptions (Sikes, 1985;
Huberman, 1993; Kompf, 1993; Hargreaves & Marshall, 2003). For instance, successful
336 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Interestingly, students do not suggest any difficulties in relation to the quality of teaching that
they have experienced. Despite the power relationships in one-to-one tuition,particularly
in the conservatoire, most students locate barriers to learning and successful performance
within themselves and not to those relationships (Creech et al., 2009).
Given the changing nature of the music profession and the currently limited career
opportunities, it is perhaps not surprising that those in the music profession feel that
they were not given training in the conservatoire which met their needs as professional
musicians. Conservatoires have come to recognise that the majority of their students will
have portfolio careers and have had success in persuading their students of this, the message
being strongly reinforced as they progress through their studies (Creech et al., 2008a).
Despite this, many musicians feel that they have not had sufficient opportunities to develop
entrepreneurial and marketing skills (Holzenspies, 2009) or skills for improvisation and
teaching (Smilde, 2009), although there is now a recognition that these skills and those
relating to leadership and self-management should be included in the curriculum.
Having successfully made the transition into the music profession, the musician needs to
maintain motivation throughout their career. The extent to which they are successful in
doing this depends to some extent on the nature of the work that they undertake but also the
other roles that they have to fulfil, for instance, in relation to their families.
Orchestral musicians, in general, seem to enjoy their work. Olbertz (2006) found
that 80% of those in her sample reported that they were content with their jobs and most
would choose the same occupation again. Seventy percent indicated that they could use their
musical and technical skills in their everyday work, although over two fifths wanted more
opportunities to realise their individual artistic ideas, and almost a third considered that
their opportunities for further individual development were insufficient. The possibilities
for co-management or promotion were particularly limited. Opportunities for individual
development seemed to be related to opportunities for solo work which varied between
instruments, with the string players perceiving that they had fewer opportunities. A study
of 54 British symphony orchestra musicians over a period of 10 months reflected Olbertz’s
findings. While they viewed membership of a symphony orchestra as indicating that they no
longer aspired to be world-class soloists, they viewed their orchestral career positively as
the means by which they could socialize with like-minded people, experience camaraderie,
teamwork, solidarity and friendship and enact their lifelong passion for music and music
performance (Brodsky, 2006).
The relative lack of control over their work of orchestral musicians has led to a particular
focus on the stresses that they experience (Olbertz, 2006). Of particular importance to the
338 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
musicians are the skills, both musical and personal of the conductor. Performances over
time can be transformed by the appointment of conductors who are inspirational. Players
seem to be most motivated by a conductor who has a directive-charismatic style enabling
them to fulfil their desire to achieve the best musical performance that they can. If the
conductor cannot co-ordinate the work of the players, the performance will be sub-optimal
and the musicians will perceive this as failure leading to frustration and a loss of motivation
(Boerner et al., 2001).
Portfolio musicians have more control over the direction of their careers and can
instigate changes over time. Manturzeweska (1990) studied high status Polish musicians
representing a range of instruments. She identified a number of career stages. Between the
ages of 15 to 25, the personality and self-awareness of the artist was developed, followed by
embarkation on a concert career up to the age of about 45. At this point many developed a
role as teachers with less frequent performances. After 65 they increasingly took on roles as
jurors for competitions and became musical authorities on a range of topics. The transitions
between these different periods held risks in terms of emotional crisis, which were greater
the more highly skilled and creative the performer. In favourable circumstances, the
transitions were negotiated without difficulty, but in some circumstances the outcome was
crisis and breakdown.
In a more recent study, Smilde (2009) used explorative biographical research to
examine developments in the professional lives of 32 musicians at different career
stages. Her sample included soloists (performing musicians whose professional lives
consist mainly of giving concerts); music pedagogues (musicians engaged almost solely
in teaching); and musicians with a portfolio career (musicians combining different roles
within various areas of engagement). Three highly related spirals of understanding emerged
relating to musicians’ different forms of leadership, their varied learning styles and the
need for adaptive and responsive learning environments within a reflective institutional
culture. The musical identities held by the musicians, in general, did not match the work
that they undertook which was defined in terms of time and sources of income.Their
careers were characterised by struggle, reconciling tensions centred on concerns relating to
employability, striving to attain ever rising artistic demands, the need to be versatile within
a rapidly changing profession and the desire to remain true to artistic ideals. Most of the
musicians did not conceptualise their work as a job but rather as their identity – a process
which began in the conservatoire, its particular direction supported by teachers who also
acted as role models. The musicians frequently referred to entrepreneurship. This emerged
across all age groups and career trajectories. There was an acknowledgement of increasing
possibilities for creativity, with opportunities for collaborative artistic leadership based
on shared understandings where individuals became the agents of their own educational
pathways, planning and organisation.
The tensions identified by Smilde (2009) were also reported by Creech (2010) in a
small-scale interview study of six professional musicians aged between 50 and 65. Four
dominant interpretive themes emerged which share a number of similarities to those of
Smilde: employability (sources of income); competence (nature of work undertaken); and
mystery (artistic idealism). The fourth was belonging to a community of practice. It was
possible to distinguish between those who were at the centre of a community of practice
and those at the periphery by the extent of autonomy and competence in the construction
of their professionalism and the extent to which they assigned their identity with qualities
of musicianship. Similar distinctions have been found in studies of jazz musicians where a
discourse of mastery and mystery emerged (Wilson & MacDonald, 2005).
Developing and Maintaining Motivation in Advanced Music Performers 339
Amateur adult musicians are not motivated by financial rewards and the need to earn a
living. While some engage with music for personal amusement, for others it constitutes a
serious leisure activity sharing many characteristics with the work of professional musicians
(Gates, 1991), being a key element of their identity (Pitts, 2005; Taylor, 2010; Taylor &
Hallam, 2008) with much investment of energy and time (Finnegan, 1997). This level of
commitment suggests that their motivation is largely intrinsic although for some there may
be a desire for social interaction. Interest, for most, seems to have developed in childhood,
with a break in engagement as careers and family commitments increased, followed by
re-engagement as these demands decreased. Reported reasons for re-engagement include
a love of music, and the desire to develop skills and respond to a challenge (Cooper, 2001;
Taylor & Hallam, 2008; Hallam et al., 2010) and depending on the specific activity
opportunities to meet with like-minded others (Hallam et al., 2010). Musical activities also
provided pleasure, relaxation and an opportunity for self-expression (Cooper, 2010).
Adult amateur musicians who take instrumental lessons report that supportive teachers
are important for maintaining motivation (Cooper, 2001). This may have particular
resonance for older learners, as many experience anxiety about their learning (Kim, 2001)
and are frustrated by their lack of technical skills in performing music with which they are
very familiar after a lifetime of listening (Cooper, 2001; Taylor & Hallam, 2008). They
particularly value good communication skills, a positive outlook, professionalism and
knowledge about and passion for music (Wristen, 2006). They also want to feel that there is
equity and mutual respect in the learner-teacher relationship with opportunities for them to
determine how and what they learn as a key aim is to sustain their personal growth (Taylor
& Hallam, 2008; Coffman, 2002; Pitts, 2004; Juutras, 2006).
340 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Taylor (2010) argues that amateur musicians seek affirmation, validation and
verification of their musical selves as part of a community of practice as do their
professional counterparts. However, for amateurs, this is less welldefined and they strive
to attain a group affiliation based on a cultural ideal of musical competence (Taylor, 2010).
She studied adults participating in a master class as part of broader music club activities and
found that all felt that they had learned from the experience, and that it had enhanced their
motivation, self-esteem, self-efficacy and musical identity. Their enthusiasm to perform
energised their peers and the music club as a whole. The master class also illustrated that
a different balance of power existed between teacher and learner with the latter indicating
that they did not intend to put all the suggestions into practice. Rewarding membership of a
community of practice can also develop through group lessons (e.g.,Wristen, 2006) where
mastering new repertoire in the company of others can facilitate the enhancement of self-
confidence (Coffman & Adamek, 1999). Amateur pianists and keyboard players also have
the opportunity to play for family and friends, and engage in musical activities in the church
or at other social events. Such opportunities enhance self-worth, engender a sense of pride
and lead to feelings of being useful and making a contribution (Cooper, 2001; Taylor &
Hallam, 2008; Hallam et al., 2010).
Practice
All musicians, if they belong to a community of practice, whatever their status within
it, need to rehearse and may need to undertake additional solitary practice. There is
considerable variation in the extent to which solitary practice is undertaken dependent in
part on the instrument that is played, and the motivation for playing. For music students,
practice is a means to develop and enhance their skills and the amount of practice and
its quality will contribute to the level and quality of expertise that they attain (Ericsson
et al., 1993; Jørgensen & Hallam, 2009). On transition to the music profession there is
a re-alignment of the purpose of practice. While there will still be the need to learn new
repertoire, technical skills will have been acquired and the challenge is to maintain them
at the very high levels of expertise required in order to continue to work in the music
profession. This is particularly important as, through the normal aging process, skills will
deteriorate if practice and rehearsal do not compensate (Krampe, 2006).
Several studies indicate that for professional musicians the relationship with practice is
ambivalent – love/hate (Chaffin et al., 2002). The amount and type of practice undertaken
is varied depending to some extent on instrument, genre and the nature of the employment
(Hallam, 1995; Chaffin et al., 2002). Some musicians perceive that they need to practise
every day to maintain their level of technical proficiency at the highest levels, while for
others practice is a means to an end to enable performance of particular repertoire and
they may have long periods of time where they undertake no solitary practice, although
they will be engaged in a variety of rehearsals with others. A change in life goals can
induce a reduction or increase in the intensity of practice. For instance, orchestral players
seeking promotion and the enhanced salary this means practise more (Olbertz, 2006), while
weekly practice reduced in the middle years in orchestral players who gave up aspirations
to become soloists and turned their attention to chamber music (Krampe, 2006).
There seems to be similar variation in motivation to practice in amateur musicians.
While some enjoy practice, appreciate the challenge and the progress that they are
making, find it empowering and relaxing, and report that their families enjoy listening to
Developing and Maintaining Motivation in Advanced Music Performers 341
them practice (Cooper, 2001; Taylor and Hallam, 2008), others do little solitary practice,
preferring group rehearsal activities (Hallam et al., 2010). For some, practice is frustrating
because of a lack of technical skill (Cooper, 2001).
Active engagement with making music can lead to physical difficulties and psychological
stress, which may affect motivation (Cooper, 2001). While in theory, both professional and
amateur musicians face the possibility of experiencing such problems, the greater amount
of time spent by professional musicians in playing and performing makes them more
vulnerable. The consequences for each group are very different. For the professional, such
difficulties may lead to the ending of a career and the loss of a livelihood. Playing while in
pain or experiencing severe performance anxiety is likely to affect motivation in the short
term, while in the long term the musician may have to make a decision about whether to
re-think their career trajectory or leave the profession.
While many musicians experience medical problems, the majority are preventable (for
a review see Wynn Parry, 2004).Typically, joints, muscles, tendons or the voice are over or
inappropriately used, creating long-term acute or chronic conditions (e.g., Yeung et al., 1999;
Wynn Parry, 2004). Orchestral musicians are particularly vulnerable to developing such
problems as they have less control over their workload than those with a portfolio career
(e.g.,Olbertz, 2006; Smilde, 2009), although those with a portfolio career face loss of
income if they reduce their working pattern. The fear of jeopardising their careers leads
many professional musicians to conceal their difficulties (Wynn Parry, 2004). It is only
recently that the extent of such medical problems has emerged, and now conservatoires are
informing students about the nature of prospective problems and putting initiatives in place
to help prevent them developing (see Williamon, 2004).
Performance anxiety can also affect motivation. Many factors can contribute to levels
of performance anxiety: the venue (size, prestige); the nature of the performance (public,
private, competitive, informal); the timing in relation to other performances and life events;
its nature (solo, group); the programme (genre, familiarity); whether other performers
are perceived as supportive or competitive, and whether there are distractions in the
environment. For instance, if it is a large venue, a competitive performance and the media
are involved it is likely to generate greater arousal levels which can be used to advantage to
energise and enhance performance but may also lead to a catastrophic breakdown. For most
musicians, being well prepared is sufficient to ensure that anxiety is not debilitating, but
there are exceptions (Bochkaryov, 1975; Hamann, 1982). Williamon (2004) suggests that in
such cases the underlying causes need to be identified and an appropriate intervention plan
developed. This may include enhancing general physical fitness (see Taylor & Wasley, 2004),
utilising specific techniques like the Alexander technique (see Valentine, 2004), or engaging
in cognitive skills training (Connolly & Williamon, 2004).
Developing Resilience
To maintain motivation throughout the lifespan, musicians need to develop resilience. This
is generally defined as the positive capacity of people to cope with stress and adversity
through adapting their behaviour (Rutter, 2008). Resilient individuals are able to reframe
342 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
their thinking so that they see problems as challenges and opportunities. This requires the
development of a range of strategies of three main types: outwardly focused on the problem
(problem-solving); inwardly focused on emotions (emotion-focused); and socially focused,
for instance, deriving emotional support from others.
The American Psychological Association (2010) outlines ten ways to develop resilience,
some of which bear remarkable similarities to the factors which were outlined as promoting
musical motivation at the start of this chapter. They are;
• making connections;
• avoiding seeing crises as insurmountable problems;
• accepting that change is a part of living;
• moving toward your goals;
• taking decisive actions;
• looking for opportunities for self-discovery;
• nurturing a positive view of yourself;
• keeping things in perspective;
• maintaining a hopeful outlook; and
• taking care of yourself.
Those institutions which are involved in the education of musicians could provide
much more guidance for young musicians on how to become resilient in what is an
extremely competitive and constantly changing music profession (see Hallam, 2002b;
Williamon, 2004). They also need to offer more substantial guidance on how to develop
and maintain a portfolio career with programmes on entrepreneurship, marketing, and
financial management and to extend the range of musical skills which are developed to
include those relating to teaching, leadership, and creativity. These activities could be
combined in an ongoing programme which ran throughout an undergraduate degree. In the
first year the focus might be on the transition into higher education, including how to get
the most out of lessons, the benefits of participating in a wide range of musical activities,
and how to maximise the effectiveness of practice and learn to prepare for performance.
Subsequent years could then focus on available career options and provide a range of
opportunities which would support those options (see Hallam & Gaunt, 2012). Continuing
professional development opportunities also need to be made available to teaching staff
across institutions to increase their awareness of the importance of students developing
resilience and being supported as they move into the music profession. This would make
it possible for reference to be made to these issues in all teaching contexts. To simply
equip young musicians with extremely high levels of technical and musical expertise for
performance is no longer sufficient to ensure employability through a portfolio career in the
short or long term.
References
American Psychological Association (2010). The road to resilience: Ten ways to build
resilience. Retrieved from www.apa.org.
Asmus, E. P. (1986). Achievement motivation characteristics of music education and music
therapy students as identified by attribution theory. Bulletin of the Council for Research
in Music Education, 86, 71–85.
Developing and Maintaining Motivation in Advanced Music Performers 343
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Morton, F., Haddon, E., Potter, J., De Bezenac, C.,
Whyton, A., Himonides, E. & Welch, G.(2008a). From music student to professional:
The process of transition. British Journal of Music Education, 25(3), 315–31.
Creech, A., Papageorgi, I., Duffy, C., Morton, F., Haddon, E., Potter, J., De Bezenac, C.,
Whyton, A., Himonides, E. & Welch, G. (2008b). Investigating musical performance:
Commonality and diversity among classical and non-classical musicians. Music
Education Research, 10(2), 215–34.
Creech, A. (2009). The role of the family in supporting learning. In S. Hallam, I. Cross &
M. Thaut (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of music psychology (pp. 295–306). Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Creech, A. (2010). Constructions of musical identity: The discourse of male and female
professional musicians. Paper presented in the symposium Identity, aspirations and
motivation in musicians, 29 January, Guildhall School of Music and Drama, London.
Creech, A., Gaunt, H. & Hallam, S. (2009). Plans and aspirations of young musicians: An
investigation into aspirations and self-perceptions in the conservatoire. Paper presented
at the Reflective Conservatoire Conference, London.
Davidson, J., Howe, M. & Sloboda, J. (1995). The role of parents and teachers in the
success and failure of instrumental learners. Bulletin of the Council for Research in
Music Education, 127, 40–44.
Duke, R. & Henninger, J. (1998). Effects of verbal corrections on student attitude and
performance.Journal of Research in Music Education, 46(4), 482–95.
Ericsson, K.A., Krampe, R.T. & Tesch-Romer, C. (1993). The role of deliberate practice in
the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological Review, 100(3), 363–406.
Finnegan, R. (1997). Music, performance and enactment. In H. Mackay (Ed.), Consumption
and everyday life (pp. 114–58).London: Sage/Open University.
Gembris, H. & Langner, D. (2006). What are instrumentalists doing after graduating
from the music academy?. In H. Gembris (Ed.), Musical development from a lifespan
perspective (pp. 141–62). Frankfurt: Peter Lang.
Green, L. (2001). How popular musicians learn: A way ahead for music education. London
& New York: Ashgate.
Hallam, S. (1995). Professional musicians’ orientations to practice: Implications for
teaching. British Journal of Music Education, 12(1), 3–20.
Hallam, S. (2002a). Musical motivation: Towards a model synthesising the research. Music
Education Research, 4(2), 225–44.
Hallam, S. (2002b). Supporting students in learning to perform. In I. M. Hanken,
S. G. Nielsen & M. Nerland (Eds), Research in and for higher music education.
Festschrift for Harald Jorgensen. NMH-publikasjoner 2002:2 (pp. 23–44). Oslo,
Norway: Norgesmusikkhgskole. (Norwegian Academy of Music).
Hallam, S. (2009). Motivation to learn. In S. Hallam, I. Cross & M. Thaut (Eds), Handbook
of psychology of music (pp. 285–94). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Hallam, S., Creech, A., Gaunt, H., Pincas, A., Varvarigou, M. & McQueen, H. (2010).
Promoting social engagement and well being in older people through community
supported participation in musical activities.Paper presented at the International Society
of Music Education, Beijing, China, 1–6 August 2010.
Hallam, S. & Gaunt, H. (2012). Preparing for success: A practical guide for young
musicians. London: Institute of Education, University of London.
Hallam, S. & Prince, V. (2000). Research into instrumental music services: Final report.
London: Department for Education and Employment.
Developing and Maintaining Motivation in Advanced Music Performers 345
MacNamara, A., Holmes, P. & Collins, D. (2006). The pathway to excellence: The role
of psychological characteristics in negotiating the challenges of musical development.
British Journal of Music Education, 23(3), 285–302.
MacNamara, A, Holmes, R. & Collins, D. (2008). Negotiating transitions in musical
development: The role of psychological characteristics of developing excellence.
Psychology of Music, 36(3), 335–52.
Manturzewska, M. (1990). A biographical study of the life-span development of professional
musicians. Psychology of Music, 18(2), 112–39.
Martin, A.J. (2008). Motivation and engagement in diverse performance settings: Testing
their generality across school, university/college, work, sport, music and daily life.
Journal of Research in Personality, 42(6), 1607–12.
McPherson, G. E. & McCormick, J. (1999). Motivational and self-regulated components of
musical practice. Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education, 141, 98–102.
McPherson, G. E. & McCormick, J. (2006). Self-efficacy and performing music.Psychology
of Music, 34, 322–36.
Miller, J. & Baker, B. (2007). Career orientation and pedagogical training: Conservatoire
undergraduates’ insights. British Journal of Music Education, 24(1), 5–19.
Mills, J. & Smith, J. (2006). Working in music: Becoming successful. In H. Gembris (Ed.),
Musical development from alifespan perspective (pp. 131–40). Frankfurt: Peter Lang.
Motte-Haber, H. de la (1984). Die Bedeutung der Motivation fur den Instrumentalbericht
(The significance of motivation in instrumental reports). Zeitschrift fur
Musikpadagogik, 51, 51–4
Nagel, J. J. (1987). An examination of commitment to careers in music: Implications for
alienation from vocational choice.(Unpublished doctoral dissertation.) University of
Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI.
Olbertz, F. (2006). Job satisfaction of professional orchestra musicians. In H. Gembris (Ed.),
Musical development from alifespan perspective (pp. 55–74). Frankfurt: Peter Lang.
O’Neill, S. (1999). Flow theory and the development of musical performance skills. Bulletin
of the Council for Research in Music Education, 141, 129–34.
O’Neill, S. A. & McPherson, G. E. (2002). Motivation. In R. Parncutt & G. E. McPherson
(Eds), The science and psychology of musical performance: Creative strategies for
teaching and learning (pp. 31–46). New York: Oxford University Press.
Papageorgi, I., Haddon, E., Creech, A., Morton, F., de Bezenac, C. Himonides, E., Potter,
J., Duffy, C., Whyton, T. & Welch, G. (2010). Institutional culture and learning
I: Perceptions of the learning environment and musicians’ attitudes to learning. Music
Education Research, 12(2), 151–79.
Persson, R. S., Pratt, G. & Robson, C. (1996). Motivational and influential components
of musical performance: A qualitative analysis. In A. J. Cropley and D. Dehn (Eds),
Fostering the growth of high ability: European perspectives (pp. 287–301). Norwood,
NJ: Ablex.
Pitts, S. E. (2004). Lessons in learning: Learning, teaching and motivation at a music
summer school. Music Education Research, 6(1), 81–95.
Pitts, S.E. (2005). Valuing musical participation.Aldershot:Ashgate.
Pitts, S. E., Davidson, J.W., & McPherson, G. E. (2000). Models of success and failure in
instrumental learning: Case studies of young players in the first 20 months of learning.
Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education, 146, 51–69.
Presland, C. (2005). Conservatoire student and instrumental professor: The student
perspective on a complex relationship. British Journal of Music Education, 22(3), 237–48.
Developing and Maintaining Motivation in Advanced Music Performers 347
Wristen, B. (2006) Demographics and motivation of adult group piano students. Music
Education Research, 8(3), 387–406.
Wynn Parry, C. B. (2004).Managing the physical demands of musical performance. In
A. Williamon (Ed.), Musical excellence: Strategies and techniques to enhance musical
performance (pp. 41–60). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Yeung, E., Chan, W., Pan, F., Sau, P., Tsui, M., Yu, B. & Zaza, C. (1999). A survey of
playing-related musculoskeletal problems among professional orchestral musicians in
Hong Kong. Medical Problems of Performing Artists, 14(1), 43.
chapter 21
understanding Professionalism:
transitions and the contemporary
Professional Musician
Andrea creech
Introduction
this chapter will explore the notion of professionalism amongst musicians and will focus
on the key transition from higher education music student to music professional. drawing
on reflective accounts gathered from professional musicians representing a range of
musical genres, consideration will be given to the personal and social factors that have
been found to support the transitional process of acquiring and establishing a professional
artistic identity. The development of professionalism in music will be considered within
the conceptual frameworks offered by notions of transition, as well as boundaryless and
protean careers.
Professionalism
The general concept of professionalism has been defined as ‘socially constructed and
contested ... meaning different things to different people at various times’ (Robson, 2006,
p. 7). Becker (1970) put forth the idea that professionalism was not a single occupation
but, rather, could be thought of as a symbol comprising collectively understood ideas and
characteristics. In a similar vein, Lave and Wenger (1991) viewed professionalism as being
constituted by shared meaning and values in practice. The acquisition of a professional
identity could thus be understood as a process involving increasing participation and lived
experience within specific communities of practice.
Alongside the theoretical ideas relating to socially constructed professionalism,
the notion of the boundaryless career has been proposed (for example, Arthur, 1994).
Underpinned by transferable skills, boundaryless careers move across the boundaries of
separate employers, are sustained by social networks and access to information and may
derive validation from outside of organisational structures.
increasingly, professional musicians experience careers that closely resemble the model
of a boundaryless career, noted above. Arguably, the concept of professionalism in music
can best be characterised as multi-faceted and unpredictable (Creech, 2010; Creech &
Gaunt, 2012; Johnsson & Hager, 2008). Those embarking on a career in music can now
expect to engage with ‘portfolio careers’ that comprise diverse roles, contexts and musical
genres and involve considerable innovation in creating and presenting music. A growing
body of research suggests that characteristics such as self-determination and resilience
350 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
carry equal importance with refined musical skills in supporting the transition from music
student to music professional. Furthermore, supportive social networks, entrepreneurialism,
confidence and versatility have been associated with successful transitions (Creech
et al., 2008; Bennett, 2009).
DeFillippi and Arthur (1994) suggested that professionalism within boundaryless
careers may be conceptualised within a framework that includes ‘know why’, ‘know
how’ and ‘know whom’ competencies. While ‘know how’ refers to career-relevant skills,
‘know whom’ reflects the role of social capital that might, for example, comprise access
to networks and mentoring. ‘Know why’ refers to the sense of purpose, motivation and
awareness of values that support individuals in developing a coherent professional self-
concept against the backdrop of a constantly changing work landscape. To this framework,
deFillippi and Arthur (1996) later added ‘know what’, ‘know where’ and ‘know when’,
attempting to capture the elements of professionalism that may, to use Lave and Wenger’s
(1991) terminology, be acquired through a process of prolonged legitimate participation
in a community of practice. A deep understanding of the occupational field together with
being able to recognise opportunities and to respond proactively are implied in these
professional competencies.
Professional success within boundaryless careers may be derived from the achievement
of personally meaningful goals and a coherent professional self-concept, rather than from
traditional external markers of success such as status, progression and increasing income. In
this vein, Mirvis and Hall (1994) put forth the idea of protean careers, whereby professionalism
was characterised by subjective success derived from intrapersonal dispositions, attitudes,
self-determination, adaptability and resilience (Bridgstock, 2007). Crucially, a protean
career perspective suggests that successful development of professionalism would
involve a strong inner sense of direction and psychological engagement with the purpose
of one’s work (Hall & Chandler, 2005). Thus, the concepts of boundaryless and protean
careers together suggest a model of professionalism that privileges both interpersonal and
intrapersonal factors alongside knowledge and skills.
Transition
Transition opens up a space in the imagination where the individual has the capacity
to anticipate future possibilities in relation to present action and to begin to develop
effective coping strategies for dealing with the real or imagined challenges lying ahead
(Giddens, 1991; Lucey & Reay, 2000). A body of research concerned with transitions
throughout formal education suggests that transition experiences may be cumulative and,
furthermore, that key ingredients for successful negotiation of critical transitions are an
enthusiasm for learning, confidence in oneself as a learner and a sense of achievement and
purpose (Galton et al., 2000).
Transition has been defined as a process of ‘learning how to become’, rather than a
milestone or specific event (Johnsson & Hager, 2008, p. 526). Accordingly, the development
of professional identity during young adulthood can occur over a lengthy period of time,
described by Daloz and Parks (2003, p. 20) as ‘ years of great promise as well as great peril,
a time when the young mind can open afresh to the stimulation of great questions and the
nourishment of worthy dreams’.
Understanding Professionalism 351
Transition in Music
Various researchers, including Bloom (1985), Sosniak (2006, 1985) and Manturzewska
(1990), have proposed stage theories of musical development. According to these
perspectives, musicians negotiate several key transition points, passing through, for
example, a stage of spontaneous musical expression and exploration followed by
subsequent distinct periods of guided instruction, goal-oriented commitment, identification
and the development of artistic personality (Hallam, 2006). The question of why some
individuals, upon reaching transition points, persevere with music while others do not has
been investigated (Hallam, 1998; O’Neill, 2002; Davidson et al., 1995). Several studies
have focused on how best to support young musicians in sustaining their musical interest
and motivation as they negotiate these transitions (Sosniak, 2006). In particular, the crucial
role of parental support has been well-documented (Creech, 2009; Csikszentmihalyi
et al., 1993), as has the influence of extended family (Feldman & Goldsmith, 1996),
instrumental or vocal teachers (Creech & Hallam, 2003; Creech & Gaunt, 2012) , peer
groups (Feldhusen, 1986) and role models (Sosniak, 1990).
Much of the research noted above has been concerned with critical transitions during the
formative years of musical development. This section of the chapter will review some
research that has been explicitly concerned with the factors that may support the subsequent
transition “between developing serious competence and then moving further toward the
limits of expertise” (Sosniak, 2006, p. 297), interpreted here as corresponding with the
transition from higher education contexts into professional performance careers. Johnsson
and Hagen (2008, p. 527–32), for example, reported that the burgeoning professional
identity amongst a group of graduate instrumentalists who worked in an apprenticeship
role in a symphony orchestra encompassed a ‘multiplicity of roles’. While disciplinary
excellence was a requirement, learning to become a professional also involved ‘living a
shared world with others’ and ‘becoming part of a community that shares practical and
holistic experiences’.
The graduate-professional musical transition was researched by Burland and Davidson
(2004) who undertook a follow-up to an earlier study concerned with motivation in children’s
musical development (Davidson et al., 1996, Davidson et al., 1997). In the second study,
carried out eight years later when the participants were between 17 and 26 years old, 20
semi-structured interviews were carried out with individuals who had been identified in
the earlier study as children with high potential in music and who had attended a specialist
music school in the UK. Six of the young musicians had decided against pursuing musical
careers; thus the opportunity arose to compare retrospective accounts of those who had
made the transition from music student to music professional with those who had taken
alternative pathways (Burland et al., 2004). A key finding from this study was that ‘the most
important factor influencing whether the musicians … went on to pursue a professional
performing career is the role of music as the central determinant of self-concept … it seems
that the importance of music to self-concept develops during the later stages of training’
(ibid., p. 243). The influence of teachers, parents and peers was found to have sustained
importance, while music education institutions were found to ‘clearly shape the musician
and his or her self-concept’ and ‘to influence whether they proceed through the transitional
phase successfully’ (ibid., p. 244).
352 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Methodology
The evidence presented here is derived from 27 semi-structured in-depth interviews with
portfolio career musicians (N = 15) who reflected on past experiences of transition, as
well as undergraduate (N = 12) music students who could be said to be ‘in transition’.
The participants were ‘case studies’ drawn from the larger sample of musicians (N = 244)
who had participated in the IMP project. The musicians represented four musical genres
that included classical, Scottish traditional, jazz and popular. A profile of the participants
is given in Table 21.1. Face-to-face interviews took place in the UK between January and
April 2007. Lasting between 60 and 90 minutes each, the interviews were transcribed, and a
thematic analysis was undertaken using the approach known as empirical phenomenology,
following the guidelines laid out by Cooper and Macintyre (1993).
Professional Undergraduate
Gender Age
Classical Other than Classical Other than Total
classical classical
Female Up to 21 2 1 ST* 4
1 jazz
22–7
28 + 5 1 jazz 7
1 ST*
Male Up to 21 4 1 ST* 8
1 jazz
2 pop
22–7 1 ST* 4
2 jazz
1 pop
28 + 2 1 jazz 4
1 pop
Total 7 8 4 8 27
* ST = Scottish traditional
Although interview studies are limited in that they can only ever offer insights related
to what participants choose to report, they have the potential to allow insight into the issue
at hand through the voice of those in whose experiences we are interested. Recognizing that
‘we can never identify and measure the full context of anyone’s life, even in the present,
and interpretation of data can only be as well informed as possible’ (Freeman, 2000, p. 236),
the analysis reported here was intended to probe the issue of transition amongst musicians,
particularly focusing on the development of professional identity in music.
354 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Findings
The interview text revealed that the development of professionalism across all of the musical
genres was represented as a complex and lengthy project characterised by acquisition of
the professional competencies outlined by deFillippo and Arthur (1996). Thus, successful
transitions involved the nurturing of ‘know how, who, what, where, when and why’. A
very strong emphasis was put on ‘know-why’, suggesting that those who most successfully
negotiated the transition from a student to a professional identity had a passion for music,
deep inner drive and sense of purpose:
This is what I’ve chosen to do, this is what I love doing, I’m just going to go out there and
I’m going to really enjoy it. (jazz)
Jane, for example, reflected on a personal challenge she had set herself, wishing to
expand the scope of her ‘know how’ (my romantic techniques weren’t good enough)
and ‘know what’ (all solo unaccompanied, solo romantic technique) she set herself a
goal, whereby success depended to some extent on ‘know who’ (this engineer that I’ve
used before) and ‘know when’ (3 or 4 years ago). The overriding quality, though, that
underpinned the success of this professional project was her perseverance and inner drive
(instead of that making me give up … It makes me … strive for greater things).
My crisis 3 or 4 years ago was that my romantic techniques weren’t good enough … a lot
of the techniques you need and on the mandolin in particular, there’s a whole load of very
extended, particularly right hand techniques that you really don’t use or barely use for
any other period except for romantic Italian. … So here was me doing an odd instrument,
not being able to play bluegrass, and also not really being able to play the other thing that
anyone associates with the mandolin. … I got annoyed with myself so I arranged to do this
recording, not on a label. It was a personal challenge. … I set this recording up with this
engineer that I’ve used before and it was all solo unaccompanied, solo romantic technique
stuff … because I am very perverse personality, instead of that making me give up. It does
the opposite. It makes me beat myself up and strive for greater things. (classical)
Specific themes that emerged from the interviews fell into two broad areas. These were: 1)
challenges associated with forging a professional musical identity, and 2) mitigating factors
that underpinned successful transition experiences. Challenges associated with forging a
career in music included pressures on time, financial hardship, professional competition
and self-doubt.
Challenges
Pressure on Time
Irrespective of whether the participants were working as musicians or in non-music jobs,
difficulties associated with the need to continue to devote considerable amounts of time to
professional development – and private practice in particular – were emphasised. When
other pressures such as family commitments, commitments to further study and time
spent working were brought to bear, it became increasingly difficult to sustain personal
professional development.
Understanding Professionalism 355
Shortage of time for practising was found to be a feature of the lives of many
professional musicians:
I practise as much as I can, as time will allow … I can cut corners … But really, I’m always
short of time. (Scottish traditional)
Donna, a professional classical singer, described how she felt when faced with insufficient
time to prepare:
The strong message from all of the musicians was that practising continued to be a
foundation of musical development throughout higher education and beyond; some
of the undergraduates recognized that finding time to practice, post-graduation, could
pose problems:
I think making time to practice will be a big one – it seems hard now, but actually it’s not
at all. (classical)
Self-doubt
Self-doubt emerged as an important issue for musicians from all genres. Doubt as to whether
one could live up to one’s own expectations as a performer, as well as the expectations of
audiences, was articulated several times. Henry, a classical musician who had branched out
into popular genres, described how the performance stakes continued to rise:
As you get older it gets a bit more serious somehow and those performances start becoming
more anxiety ridden rather than just purely for pleasure. You think, ‘I’ve got to go out there
and perform to a certain standard’. (classical)
This view was elucidated by Bridget, who made the salient point that her experience
of self-doubt had increased in proportion to her awareness of potential musical and
technical boundaries:
What’s making you nervous is your own expectations and knowledge of what’s
achievable … you have an imbalance between what you know is potentially possible and
what you can do. (classical)
As musicians gained in experience, there was a sense that they believed themselves
to be only as good as their last performance, constantly having to reaffirm their status
as professional musicians. Despite considerable experience and success as a professional
musician, the absence of formal qualifications caused Jessica, a jazz musician, to doubt her
technical ability:
I must have been playing for nearly 30 years … So I feel very comfortable at the piano,
but I’m conscious of the fact that I only ever took formal exams up to Grade 7 and I, you
know, stopped doing exams and I’ve never, kind, of studied the piano to a high level so I
feel a bit nervous about that. (jazz)
356 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
However, some of participants who had a strong professional identity suggested that
they had developed resilience in the face of self-doubt, becoming more ‘forgiving’ of
themselves as their professional careers developed.
I used to be very-very critical of myself and take it really badly when a performance didn’t
go well … but I’ve learned, I think, throughout the years to be a little bit more, like … to
kind of move from it a little bit more. (jazz)
I occasionally put on recordings taken at concerts when I was 19, 20 and I literally start
crying because I know what I was feeling when I was playing those ... I listen to it now and
frankly I would be struggling to do as well now sometimes. And yet I literally destroyed
myself and then rebuilt myself. (classical)
Mitigating Factors
Several themes emerged that were interpreted as factors which mitigated the challenges of
making the transition from student to professional. Accounts from musicians representing
all four genres included an emphasis on the importance of personality factors. Other
prominent themes were the importance of skills, including musical skills, rehearsal skills
and promotional/organisational skills and the importance of work-based performance
opportunities. The value of the professional networks, in terms of moral support, supportive
performance relationships and belonging to a community of practice, was also emphasised.
Personality Factors
As one classical undergraduate musician succinctly stated, ‘it’s 50% playing and 50% the
person’. Several personality characteristics were identified as being important mitigating
factors in the transition into the music business; these included self-confidence, perseverance,
enjoyment of music, communication skills and high musical standards.
Bradley, a popular portfolio musician, emphasized the importance of interpersonal skills:
The social side of it is really important, being able to get on with people. (popular)
Seona, a Scottish traditional musician, emphasized the ability to use interpersonal skills
in the context of engaging audiences and putting across musical ideas:
What I look for is communication, understanding and the ability to put that across.
(Scottish traditional)
Understanding Professionalism 357
There was a strong sense of perseverance amongst all of the musicians and encapsulated
by Bridget (classical musician):
I’ve got to always push myself to get more ability … I am quite dedicated to that and quite
strict with myself. (classical)
I completely love music. I still practise for the sheer pleasure of it, and I don’t think I could
live without music. (classical)
As I feel the need less to emulate the past masters … feel less of a requirement to play like
other people … I kind of accepted who I am as a musician. (jazz)
Skills
A full gamut of musical and organisational skills was considered to be necessary for
individuals cultivating a music performance career (Table 21.2).
Table 21.2 Skills found to facilitate smooth transition into professional music
careers – profile of interviewees
Versatility
‘I had to develop all these things because I’ve had to do all these things to make a living.’ (classical
musician)
Improvisation
‘I would probably follow the chord sequence as I’m improvising … I’m much happier when … I
can just throw the paper away.’ (jazz musician)
Composition/experimentation
‘You kind of start to have, especially if you’re into more experimental stuff, you try to have a
personal sound, so you have bits of ideals.’ (jazz musician)
Ability to memorize
‘How can you be a good player but have to delve round in a bag to get the music out?’ (classical
musician)
Knowledge of repertoire
‘I’ve got quite a big repertoire now, so usually I can find things that don’t need too much work.’
(classical musician)
Individual practice
‘The fundamental thing is practice. If I haven’t done the practice, I might as well not bother …
this actually gives you the freedom to do your own expression and I think you see that across all
genres.’ (Scottish traditional musician)
Rehearsal with others
‘It’s what you do with other musicians. … It’s about bonding on an intuitive level. The more you
do it the better it sounds.’ (pop musician)
358 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
Mental rehearsal
‘I’ll be going through things in my head and … I’m practising without even knowing I’m actually
practising.’ (classical musician)
Stamina
‘The work that I do tends to be stamina and strength based.’ (pop musician)
Pre-concert routines
‘So much has to be right when you get up there … they’re trying to create the right conditions
for themselves. It’s an emotional thing, as well as a physical, do the thing.’ (Scottish traditional
musician)
Self-promotion
‘You get to know the promoters and they say “oh! yeah, you did a good job for us last year, so
we’d like you to come back this year”.’ (jazz musician)
Organisation
‘There’s a significant amount of logistical organising and to pretend otherwise is a recipe for
disaster.’ (jazz musician)
The capacity to be musically versatile, in particular, was found to be highly valued and
was a potent theme in accounts from all genres. There was a sense that there was little scope
for specialism in the music world, if one were to forge a viable and rewarding career:
We recorded a debut CD and we are in the process of recording a second one … I’m
writing some choral music for the local community choir and occasionally I do a bit of
instrumental tuition. I also gig … I’ll go and play with other bands. (jazz)
For some the need to sometimes be ‘jack of all trades’ threatened their musical
identity – ‘I don’t like the fact that we don’t fit into one world or the other’– and caused
considerable stress:
It did make me physically ill because it was just such a strain. I was doing everything. I
wrote the music, I directed, I did everything. (popular)
Musical justification for versatility was found in the accounts from musicians
representing all of the four genres:
It’s important to have a range of things, because they inform each other (jazz) … Any genre
of music, anything. Listen really in-depthly, analyse it … it can be anything – classical
music, pop, rock, just listen to what the instruments are doing (Scottish traditional) … I’ve
listened to everything from jazz to rock, to pop … I think it’s important to get inspiration
from lots of sources. I think that makes a better musician, more rounded and more open-
minded (classical) … It’s that level of obsession about his work that he’ll work in any
genre … It’s complete kind of immersion and involvement in the music (popular).
I am very committed to those three and I’m not very keen on doing ad hoc performances
or liaisons, not because I don’t want to, but because I have very high standards and I don’t
think you can always achieve them if the personnel is not right. (classical)
In order to stay in this community, to keep playing with these people, you have to react
in a certain way, you have to go with it, you have to do these things … so you’re always
adapting within that community. (jazz)
Performance Opportunities
Clearly, performance opportunities are the cornerstone of a musician’s professional life:
The moment I can … start working I’ll be fine, and then it’s just easy from then on. Once
you’re in the profession you just get better and better and gain more experience. (classical)
I don’t know what path I’ll go down. It depends on what work comes up. I can’t dictate
that so much. (popular)
I graduated in 2005, and by that point I was quite well established playing. And I’d been
lucky enough to do lots and lots of deputising work in different bands. (Scottish traditional)
I was very lucky, this was one of the areas that I was very lucky. (classical)
One undergraduate described the problems she expected to encounter upon leaving
higher education: ‘I don’t think it’s motivation, I think it’s more opportunities.’ This very
problem was experienced by Maria, a freelance classical portfolio musician, who described
some ramifications:
I think I suffered a lot because … I didn’t get enough performance opportunities. I actually
spent too much time on my own, analysing myself and my own playing in an unhealthy
way. (classical)
Workplace Learning
The musicians placed a high value on their opportunities to learn in authentic, workplace
settings. For every one of the interviewees this was a prominent theme, with some attributing
their successful transitions to the knowledge, networks and musical skills gained through
early chance opportunities:
I feel looking back as though I dropped into professional playing by the skin of my teeth,
that’s what I feel. And then when I got into it I learned a whole lot more about how to do
it. (classical)
360 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
I came out of that flurry of work suddenly realising that I had a technique. Because I had
not been thinking about it. I had just been playing. (classical)
I know when I first started out and I put my first band together, I managed to get people
to join the band who I had really looked up to and I thought were out of my league and I
remember leading a band rehearsal and saying ‘what do you think? How shall we do this
intro?’ and one of them just looking at me straight in the face saying ‘I don’t know, it’s
your band’. And me finding that very difficult, because I wanted more kind of emotional
support, recognition of the fact that I wasn’t very confident. But I’ve gotten much better at
leading things now, I’ve got much more experience. (jazz)
The kind of musicianship thing, is the culmination of everything I do, working with
different people, and trying to be good at what I do. ... I don’t think there are any exercises
that will help with that – it’s just doing the job and trying to do it well. (popular)
Conclusions
The evidence from the IMP project suggests that, irrespective of musical genre,
professional musical identities are forged within a ‘boundaryless’ context that poses many
challenges and is highly competitive. Our participants identified mitigating strategies
and characteristics, for example, in finding considerable amounts of time to devote to
continuing professional development and self-promotion and developing internal resources
for overcoming internal demons in the form of self-doubt. Making the transition from
student to professional involved, for our participants, the psychological investment and
interpersonal and intrapersonal resources that have been identified as fundamental for
successful and personally satisfying transitions within protean and boundaryless careers
(de Fillippi & Arthur, 1996; Hall & Chandler, 2005). These findings add to MacNamara
et al.’s study (2006), suggesting that the fear, frustration, financial and practical constraints
associated with the early years of professional classical music careers may be experiences
that are shared by musicians of all genres.
Several factors, conceptualised here as musical professional competencies, were
associated with resilient transitions. Alongside musical skills and knowledge, strengths
across a number of personal and social areas supported our participants in overcoming
challenges and constructing strong professional musical identity. ‘Know why’ was perhaps
the most salient factor. This was demonstrated by a deep love and enjoyment of music
that underpinned perseverance, self-confidence, dedication and continual striving for the
highest possible musical standards. ‘Know what’ and ‘know how’ comprised musical
skills and knowledge, practice strategies and versatility. ‘Know whom, where and when’
encompassed communication and organisational skills as well as a sense of belonging in
a community of practice that offered authentic workplace performance opportunities. Our
participants who had strengths in terms of this ‘know whom, where and when’ demonstrated
the ability to recognise and respond appropriately to opportunities – this was frequently
referred to as ‘luck’ – an aspect of professionalism that was crucial within the context of a
professional landscape marked by diversity (Figure 21.1).
As Figure 21.1 suggests, versatile musicians fared well. Typically, a versatile musician,
over a period of time, created a portfolio of work that was reminiscent of the idea of the
boundaryless career. For these musicians, professional satisfaction was derived from a
strong sense of purpose and love of music, as suggested by the model of the protean career.
Understanding Professionalism 361
Successful transitions into the music world were found to be very much dependent on
relationships with other musicians. A community of practice was found to be important
in terms of providing a source of moral support, for exchanging ideas with like-minded
people and for forging performance relationships. Performance opportunities, sometimes
attributed to luck, often were found to be created through engagement with peer networks.
For students and young professional musicians, authentic, work-based performance
opportunities were highly valued and it was in this context that our participants reported
‘learning how to be’ professional. Membership of a musical community of practice thus
greatly contributed to reinforcing one’s self-concept as a musician, a factor that was found
by Burland et al. (2004) to be significant in negotiating successful transitions.
Higher education music institutions face a tall order, taking responsibility for equipping
music students for the music profession and also for supporting those whose transition
pathways lead to alternatives to a performance career. However, if transition is treated as a
process rather than an event, then factors that facilitate this process may be addressed early
in the higher education experience.
Institutions where many musical genres cohabit have an ideal opportunity to broaden
musical awareness amongst their students, providing opportunities for multi-genre
communities of practice to evolve where musical versatility – not just virtuosity – may
be nurtured. Furthermore, music curricula need to have support systems in place that
foster self-confidence, interpersonal skills, perseverance as well as musical responsibility
and autonomy amongst students. In this vein, the importance of mentoring is paramount.
Performance students typically have a mentor in the form of their instrumental/vocal
teacher, and this relationship may have profound consequences for transition into
professional careers (Persson, 1996). Institutions need to capitalise on the potential for
positive influence from these relationships and guard against negative ramifications by
investing in the professional development of those who occupy the role of instrumental/
362 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning
vocal teacher. In short, higher education music institutions have a responsibility to their
students to do all that is possible to foster highly developed professional competencies.
This study highlights the notion of transition as a process that presents difficult challenges
for aspiring professional musicians. Notwithstanding this, the evidence presented here
suggests that higher education music institutions may assist their students throughout the
transition process by nurturing a deep understanding of professionalism in music, maximising
the potential for cross-genre peer networks, prioritising the importance of mentoring
workplace learning and fostering a versatile musical self-image for performance students.
References
Davidson, J., Howe, M. & Sloboda, J. (1997). Environmental factors in the development of
musical performance skill over the life span. In D. Hargreaves & A. North (Eds), The
social psychology of music (pp. 188–206). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
deFillippi, R. J. & Arthur, M. B. (1994). The boundaryless career: A competency-based
perspective. Journal of Organizational Behavior, 15(4), 307.
deFillippi, R. J. & Arthur, M. B. (1996). Boundaryless contexts and careers: A competency
based perspective. In M. B. Arthur & D. M. Rousseau (Eds), The boundaryless career:
A new employment principle for a new organizational era (pp. 116–31). New York:
Oxford University Press.
Feldhusen, J. F. (2001). Talent development in gifted education (No. ERIC Digest E610).
Arlington, VA: ERIC Clearinghouse on Disabilities and Gifted Education.
Feldman, D. H. & Goldsmith, L. T. (1996). Transgenerational influences on the development of
early prodigious behaviour: A case study approach. In W. Fowler (Ed.), Early experience
and the development of competence (pp. 67–85). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Inc.
Freeman, J. (2000). Teaching for talent: Lessons from the research. In C. van Lieshout &
P. Heymans (Eds), Developing talent across the life span (pp. 231–48). East Sussex:
Psychology Press.
Galton, M., Morrison, I. & Pell, T. (2000). Transfer and transition in English schools:
Reviewing the evidence. International Journal of Educational Research, 33, 341–63.
Giddens, A. (1991). Modernity and self-identity: Self and society in the late modern age.
Cambridge: Polity.
Hall, D. T. & Chandler, D. E. (2005). Psychological success: When the career is a calling.
Journal of Organizational Behavior, 26(2), 155.
Hallam, S. (1998). The predictors of achievement and dropout in instrumental tuition.
Psychology of Music, 26(2), 116–32.
Hallam, S. (2006). Music psychology in education. London: Institute of Education,
University of London.
Johnsson, M. C. & Hager, P. (2008). Navigating the wilderness of becoming professional.
Journal of Workforce Development, 20(7/8), 526–36.
Lave, J. & Wenger, E. (1991). Situated learning – legitimate peripheral participation.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Lucey, H. & Reay, D. (2000). Identities in transition: Anxiety and excitement in the move
to secondary school. Oxford Review of Education, 26(2), 191–205.
MacNamara, A., Holmes, P. & Collins, D. (2006). The pathway to excellence: The role
of psychological characteristics in negotiating the challenges of musical development.
British Journal of Music Education, 23(3), 285–302.
Manturzewska, M. (1990). A biographical study of the life-span development of professional
musicians. Psychology of Music, 18(2), 112–39.
Mirvis, P. H. & Hall, D. T. (1994). Psychological success and the boundaryless career.
Journal of Organizational Behavior, 15(4), 365.
O’Neill, S. (2002). The self-identity of young musicians. In R. MacDonald, D. Hargreaves
& D. Miell (Eds), Musical identities (pp. 79–96). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Persson, R. S. (1996). The maestro music teacher and musicians’ mental health (Research
paper No. CG027631). Toronto, Canada: American Psychological Association.
Robson, J. (2006). Meanings of professionalism. In Teacher professionalism in further and
higher education: Challenges to culture and practice (pp. 7–24). London: Routledge.
Smilde, R. (2009). Musicians as lifelong learners: Discovery through biography.
Netherlands: Eburon Academic Publishers.
364 Advanced Musical Performance: Investigations in Higher Education Learning