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/