(Too) Much Ado About Jazz

                We want our music educators to obviously be knowledgeable in their craft, that’s certainly a given. It is imperative that the standard American music teacher knows his or her music theory exceptionally well, so that we may be able to confidently answer any incoming question from our students. We want to have extensive knowledge pertaining to the history of music – specifically bibliographical information on the world’s most prominent composers, an accurate timeline of musical periods, and relevant major world events coinciding with cultural periods and composers’ lives – so that our students can better understand and gain valuable insight what has gone into the process of creating and analyzing today’s music. We must be able to guide our students through advanced topics such as composition and improvisation in order to train the next generation of well-rounded musicians. All of this is true. But when it comes to imparting knowledge of specific genres onto our students, how much expertise are we truly expected to have? Are some genres more important than others?

                It’s a tough question, perhaps, but one worth discussing a bit more thoroughly. Today’s standard music classroom incorporates all the instruments of your standard concert band – woodwinds, brass, and percussion. In greater detail, we have our flutes, clarinets, saxophones, trumpets, trombones, snare, bass, cymbals, and mallet percussion all contributing to the ensemble, which easily sets this ensemble up to play a multitude of symphonic band compositions, including some very famous pieces by some very famous composers (Samuel Barber, Aaron Copland, Gustav Holst, Vincent Persichetti, among others.) One thinks of band literature in the general music classroom and one cannot help but conjure images of pieces of this nature performed at school concerts and assemblies. But this same instrumentation is prominent in the standard jazz ensemble as well – trumpets, trombones, saxophones, and percussion (with snare, bass and cymbals condensing into the drum set) comprise the meat of the group, with instruments such as flute, clarinet, and vibraphone certainly finding their place in select pieces. Of course when two different genres share the same basic instrumentation, that both will find their way into the curriculum somehow. It’s just convenient.

                But keep in mind that specifically, and by the letter of the National standards, a jazz ensemble is not necessarily required. It definitely paves an easy road for satisfying components such as improvisation and music history, but there are other ways to get this done with genres other than jazz. It just appears that the rise of jazz being taught in the general classroom is because of the carry-over of instruments from both jazz and symphonic band, which of course has made music educators strengthen the overall importance of jazz. It is almost cliché that the common music teacher will go at great lengths to talk about how amazing jazz is, but is anyone else talking about it? It’s 2016 – our students simply aren’t choosing jazz as their genre of choice anymore. I personally have never met one student (or one child at all) who can honestly say that he or she loves jazz and listens to it on the regular. So why all the hype?

                There is no doubt that jazz has shaped American music, that much is true. Without jazz, there is no rock; without rock, there is no pop. You could go on. From its early African American roots, jazz has become ingrained in American culture in the same way that folk music has. But what came before jazz? And what came before that? What about Baroque music, or even Gregorian chant? Didn’t all modern music have origins in these genres as well? After all, without them, I can’t imagine what today’s music would be. “But jazz is relevant to AMERICAN music! It shaped our culture, and THAT’S why it has such significance in our schools!” True, we’ve all heard this point. But was America not founded as a country of immigrants? A melting pot of cultures from around the world? The first English settlers of America came here with their own music ingrained in their spirits, derived from the old classic periods. So why is Baroque music not considered equally as important to practice in schools, up there with jazz? Could it be because jazz music is more conducive to today’s standard school instrumentation?

                So should music educators today be experts in jazz? I don’t believe so – if we were expected to be experts in jazz, then we should also be expected to have absolute expertise in blues, gospel, Baroque, and Gregorian chant as well. Each have their own area of importance in shaping today’s American music, and I don’t see how one has more importance over another. I think we should all definitely have proficiency in discussing these genres, and we should be able to talk intelligently to our students about the important aspects of these genres and their relationship across other styles of music and to modernism. But to say jazz music is vital in education and Renaissance music is not, that is a mistake which gives our students the wrong idea about where music really comes from.

                What about American folk music? All American students should have some knowledge and fluency in the old nursey rhymes, which not only introduces user-friendly musical concepts such as pitch and rhythm, but also provides our youth with a source of our country’s identity. The same way Kodaly utilized his country’s folk music as a source of instruction, so too must we pass on this knowledge and preserve our heritage. If we’re talking about specific examples, “The Star Spangled Banner” and “America The Beautiful” are two obvious pieces of music that our students should learn. Other early tunes such as “Yankee Doodle” and “Mary Had A Little Lamb” are simplistic and provide a means for us to discuss the aforementioned topics as well as opening up new paths later on when introducing transposition, composition, and improvisation. Many of my students have taken a simple song like “Mary Had A Little Lamb” and have learned about how to transpose to a different key, because the melody is so basic and does not require much scrutiny in its analysis. The average music teacher does not need to be considered an expert in this subject. Those who choose to study American folk music specifically have degrees specific in this subject matter – they are the experts. What good are jazz or folk historians and musicologists in the first place if every music teacher is an expert in these fields already? There professions and degrees would become moot. And what good are cancer specialists if every doctor is already an expert in dealing with cancer? 

                I could go on, but the bottom line is this: music teachers need to be knowledgeable in all things music. We should be able to talk intelligently about jazz and folk music the same way in which we should be able to talk about Classical and Baroque music, and be able to answer most questions about them so as to guide our students along a quality path of education. But to go as far as to say that we should all be experts, that could be a bit of a stretch. Leave the very specific details and footnotes about jazz to degree-holding jazz historians, not the average 5^th grade general music teacher. 

First Trumpet Lesson - My Reflection

          Today I taught my first “trumpet lesson” (Prof. Brandt Schneider was my guinea pig) in front of my class. Before I came in, I knew exactly what I wanted to say, and exactly what I wanted to cover – I was definitely prepared to cover the first five minutes (the direction for the assignment.) Mr. Schneider certainly did his part to act in the role of a fifth grade boy, which was okay, because of course as educators we must be prepared for all sorts! A couple of things did throw me off momentarily. I was not planning on even opening the trumpet case within the first five minutes but we ended up taking a peek inside. But this was fine! We must be flexible and accommodate all of our students’ questions, especially during the first lesson when they are most eager and excited. I had no problem having Mr. Schneider open up the case so I can explain the mouthpiece to him. We may or may not have engaged in too much small talk – it is hard to gauge because the actual lesson would have been 35 minutes long, but we were only covering the first five. I thought it went well, overall.

            Did my objective match what the student believed the objective was? I’d have to answer yes – I made sure to explain that all the exercises we were about to do pave the way to producing a sound out of his instrument, which was the goal of my lesson. The student knew he would eventually be producing a quality sound, and I was showing him how to get that done.

            As far as talking vs. listening goes, I was definitely doing most of the talking, which in my opinion is perfectly fine for a first lesson. The first lesson for anything should be more teacher-centered so we can explain all classroom procedures and policies, and to gain the trust of the student by telling him about myself. Perhaps I could have done more listening? This would have definitely been the case as the lesson progressed, as I would have been allowing the student to explore the sounds on the mouthpiece.

            I wanted Mr. Schneider to be able to get through at least one of my initial breathing exercises within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, this did not happen – the timer expired as I was just getting into it. But I am not too worried about that as I progress – I know fully well that we would be covering it within the first lesson, and that ultimately he would have walked away from the lesson with everything he needed to produce a sound. I am confident in that, and I will gain even more confidence the more I proceed along this path. This was a very helpful experience for me!

The "Good" Stuff

            I read an interesting article the other day by Mr. Brandt Schneider titled, “Creating Musical Flexibility Through The Ensemble” and it certainly inspired some novel ideas about fulfilling those national standards in the classroom. Implementing composition can, at times, be somewhat of an uphill battle between rehearsing, theory, classroom management, and general organization – when do we really have time for our students to pull out their composition notebooks and work on their part writing? Fortunately, Mr. Schneider reminds us that composition is not necessarily all about the writing component: knowledge of key signatures and transposing melodies is also a viable way to teach our students about just the very fundamentals of the entire composition process altogether. His activity repertoire and experimentation with a brand new music program both serve as shining examples of how we can overcome this elusive concept, with commendable results to prove them as methods to be seriously regarded. Now, this standard exists for a reason, and a very good one (you’re going to be hearing this adjective a lot, so buckle up.) Our students’ knowledge of composition, along with improvisation, music theory, music history, performance practices, and conducting, plays an important role in shaping them to become well-rounded and all-around good musicians, both now and (hopefully) in the future. But if we were to take a step back, lounge in our recliners, drink some tea, and meditate on what it means to truly be a “good” musician, we may all have different views on this. Like the analysis of music itself, our various analyses of “good” musicianship may very well be all over the place. I’d like to offer my own distinct viewpoint on the subject.

Walk into a 7^th grade Language Arts classroom. Point out the “good” students in the room, the ones who really have what it takes. Of course, if your clairvoyant powers are a bit rusty, you may need some data to assist your decision making. Read the grades of the children in the classroom. Find the names of all those receiving an “A” for the course. Have you found them now? They seem to understand all the material presented to them – look at all those 100% marks, all those participation tally marks, even the perfect attendance! Surely they are the “good” ones. Go ahead and pick one of these students out, perhaps quiz them on their knowledge of grammar, syntax, and alliteration. And then after they have given you the expected satisfactory answers, ask them to write you a well-crafted short story so you can publish it in a magazine. Will he or she be able to deliver? I can’t accurately say for sure, though I will say that I exceled in Language Arts from Kindergarten all the way through undergrad, and my ability to write a short story is probably as “good” as my hypothetical student’s is. I was pretty “good” at math, too – all A’s! – and yet, I am as much of a “good” mathematician as I am a “good” chemist (that is to say, not at all… but then, how can you explain all my A’s in chemistry?)

            I’m writing “good” in quotes a lot, because “good” is not quantifiable. It’s an opinion. I’m a good poker player, but what does that even mean? Good as in, I win more than I lose? Or that I always walk away up two large every night? Or that I compete nationally in poker tournaments? That I give seminars and write books on how to win? Well, I don’t do any of these things – I teach music (I’m not crazy about relying on luck for a paycheck.) I see a lot of students with potential, with “the knack,” with drive and ambition to succeed and become better. I hear them perform, make autonomous corrections, and perform in rehearsals, auditions, competitions, and school concerts. I feel the energy and the excitement emanating from a great number of them when it comes time to pull the instruments out and warm up. And yet, with all this data at my disposal, it is difficult to see who the “good” musicians are at times. I imagine many other music educators might have this dilemma – how can we quantify something that is largely unquantifiable? Who is “good” at doing their homework and who is “good” at being a true musician? If I had to put the abstract into concrete parameters, I suppose I would define them as such:

1. Being a good musician involves knowing your primary instrument, that’s for sure. You have to be able to know all its capabilities, all the “tricks” and the subtleties that define exact articulations and dynamic shifts. The performance quality on this instrument should leave no room for doubt as to the level of musicianship. There is confidence and assurance radiating from the sounds that fill the room, evoking emotion from those fortunate enough to listen.

2. Being a good musician involves an understanding of a multitude of secondary instruments as well. It is important to know the capabilities of the instruments performing around you in the ensemble, so that one can audiate and consistently check for balance and blend. I am not a politician or a political activist, but I would be ignorant to know nothing about what is going on in the political world. So too must a good musician not be ignorant about the “lives” of the other instruments and focus solely on his or her main instrument, which brings me to the next point. 

3. Being a good musician involves having a strong opinion about what makes a good musician a good musician. There needs to be some sort of philosophy behind the music, some sort of unwritten mission statement that guides the musician on his or her path. Without this light, we lose our way. Without this purpose, we lose our perseverance. A good musician forms this philosophy through listening to the professionals as they perform, and through the quality of their educators and conductors. We are all chameleons, constantly adapting to new information, and we are all sponges, consistently absorbing ideas and adding them to the vast repertoire of knowledge that is our mind.

4. A good musician has a good wealth of knowledge about music history. Understanding the biographical and cultural information of various prominent composers assists us in making musical choices when tackling one of their respective compositions. A good musician knows that before attempting Mahler’s Titan Symphony, he or she should have Mahler’s life in mind, and know his practices, and his influences, and his nepotism for particular instruments, and what was happening in the world at the piece’s genesis. It sounds like a lot more work than it actually is, by the way – these days, you could find 90% of this in the time it takes you to boil water for tea.

5. A good musician never stops learning how to be a good musician. Because we all know you’re never as good as it gets, not by a long shot. There’s always the trying of new techniques, the studying of new pedagogy, the listening to new artists, the wondering, the “what-if’s,” the creativity, the magic, the trial-and-error, the mystery, the passion, the memory of when you first picked up that trumpet, the nostalgic feelings of sitting at your mother’s piano when you were 5, the tears you may or may not have shed when you heard a string quartet perform “Nearer My God To Thee” many years ago. You take all of this, you stir them around for a while, and you realize that every day as a musician brings such delight, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. I guess what I’m saying is summed up in my last, most important, point:

6.  A good musician loves music.

Link to Mr. Brandt Schneider’s article: http://www.leadingnotes.org/2012/02/06/schneider/

Music Education: My Philosophy

“I love music passionately. And because I love it I try to free it from barren traditions that stifle it.” This statement by Claude Debussy proves that one can inspire not only with beautiful compositions, but with simple words as well. And he’s got a major part of my philosophy summed up right from the start – I have always believed that the art of teaching music is so unlike any other discipline, and therefore I can’t allow myself to conform to a set routine, or a same old, ho-hum standardized environment. Let’s face it: the same thing over and over gets boring for anybody, and if I become bored, there’s no way my students are staying awake, either! I quote fellow music educator Peter Boonshaft from his exceptional book, Teaching Music with Purpose: “Though we need some routine for structure, too much can be deadly.” If music is something that constantly changes with time, then music education should be no different – sometimes we prepare for an upcoming concert, sometimes we simply listen and critique music instead. Other times we may read about a little music history in order to broaden our knowledge, or do a little composing, or sit back and reflect about what music means to us as individuals. No two days in a row should be exactly the same!

Perhaps I picked up this rapidly-changing schedule from my other job. I was previously self-employed as a private music teacher, specializing in direct 1-on-1 instruction in piano, guitar, percussion, and music composition. At my peak, I had 32 students per week, and every student had his or her own lesson plan – naturally no two students’ lessons were alike. My goal for each student was not to become a professional musician – it was not even to pursue any sort of career in music at all. Would I encourage this path? Of course, but it was not necessary. Each student of mine was simply expected to put in diligent effort, to try their best, to learn from their mistakes, to think critically about their assignments and performances, and to have fun doing what they were doing. The last part was especially important, because if you aren’t having fun, you aren’t getting a rewarding learning experience (it’s called ‘playing’ an instrument, not ‘working’ an instrument!)

                From then to now, my goals and expectations have not changed – the only difference is that instead of teaching one student at a time, I get to teach them in groups. In my ideal classroom, I still want each of my students to put their best efforts in everything they do, from group activities to homework to written assessments. The effort is what is important – I want to know that even when they don’t succeed, that they are striving to become better and try to reach the next level. When they do make mistakes, I expect them to take the proper initiative to correct them, and I will always be glad to guide them in doing so. I want my students to brainstorm and use their creativity when writing, or performing, or when working together as an ensemble. Above all, I want my classroom to operate on the foundation of humor, passion, fun, and love of their craft. Music is something to be enjoyed; after all, it’s part of the entertainment industry.

                Peter Boonshaft says that as music educators, we must “envision what our students can become and then we work to make it happen. We see what’s possible, and then we teach until we set them free to be what they can be.” As an educator, it is my duty to ignite the creative fires within my students, to unlock artistic potential, to motivate and drive students to become better musicians, and to cater to all unique individual’s needs on every level, every day. This is my personal mission statement. At the end of the day, I want my students to leave my class having actually learned something, and with smiles on their faces as well.