There was a world where the blue-haired ladies ruled. Hands were whacked for playing wrong notes. Mothers were told, 'The child has no talent. Save your money.' For the autocratic music teachers of an earlier age, students who didn't learn quickly were not worth the trouble. My job as a music teacher might have been easier back then. I could have kept only the natural learners, and gotten rid of the students who actually made me think.
But I have never liked to give up on a student who struggled. I always hope that the next lesson will be when the puzzle piece turns to just the right angle. I think that maybe if I teach upside down or backwards, it will pop into place. And then the next step will be easier, and so on.
Not that naturals aren't great fun to teach. I don't see them often, just as doctors don't see healthy people as often as they see the ones who need help getting better. Natural musicians are off discovering on their own; they're playing in a band, and making it up as they go. I only teach naturals when they need help with a particular skill set, and then they're off again.
Are you a natural musician? Am I? What makes one, anyway? Do the naturals just get started quicker? Did the blue-haired ladies simply give up too soon on the slower starters?
And should speed really be the question here? What about enjoyment of the learning process itself? If it takes ten years to learn to play guitar and you're enjoying every minute of it, then you'll probably enjoy the next ten, too. And all your music buddies will enjoy playing with you. You might even have audiences who love your music! But if you give up too soon (because the blue-haired lady whacks your hand or because you sit next to the fast kid) you might never discover your own natural musical expression.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Many students warn me that they "can't read a note of music" and are surprised when I pooh-pooh their concern. But music is a hearing art. It is not a visual art. People played music for millenia before anyone ever thunk up how to paint sounds on paper. If sound-recording devices had been invented hundreds of years ago, would we now be using written music notation? Can music writing long endure in this, the Age of YouTube?
"Think different" is not a new concept. I can hardly imagine the leaps and arabesques of abstraction it took to start from scratch, invent, and refine our modern two-dimensional mapping of sounds. Standard music notation is an impressively complex, efficient set of symbols. It's called standard notation for good reason. But there other systems.
I'm used to working in tablature, an alternate graphic system which is instrument specific. Banjo tab uses a five-line system to map out where to place the fingers; guitar tab uses six lines. Many instruction books written in tab also add parallel standard notation, a handy Rosetta stone for literate musicians. But that gets to be a lot of blobs swimming on the page and looks downright scary if you're already shy of reading. I had one banjo teacher who sketched out quick ideas for me using only a large numeral with small superscript to indicate string and fret, respectively. I use that minimalist system when it works best.
I have found that if I invite my youngest students -- who haven't seen standard music -- to invent their own music writing, they'll come up with some pretty creative ideas. Then I can mix their own graphic ideas with normal music symbols for more organic learning.
And for the adult students who warn me they can't read music -- or are worried because they've tried and failed? We get out our smart phones and make a little video of me showing them what to play; they can watch at home to jog their memory, and voila!
(Disclaimer: I do still write things down in tab or music, as needed. Literacy for its own sake is good. But when a bunch of dots on paper keeps you from the joy of making music, it's time to throw that page upon the fire of the ages!)