Armenian-American conductor Tigran Arakelyan, creator of the Off The Podium podcast series, interviews Frances Wilson, founder and author of The Cross-Eyed Pianist, about her unusual path into piano teaching, the creation of the blog, concert reviewing, “changing the vocabulary” in teaching, and more…..

More about Off The Podium and links to other podcasts in the series here

Guest article by Gregory Daubney, Msc, MBPsS and Dr Alison Daubney, PhD

One of the most enjoyable things about working as a psychologist is that we are never far away from the presence of our forefathers. The ghosts of Freud, Jung, Skinner and Pavlov (amongst others) hover around our every move whispering of the repressed and unconscious nature of human behaviour. That the past should be suggested as the greatest influencer of our future is as natural as night follows day. The mechanism of our individual history’s operation on the present is, quite rightly, shrouded in mystery and intrigue. However, this strait jacket of the past need not leave us feeling stuck in the present. The belief that a psychologist need not know the cause of an individual’s psychological problems is a strangely liberating (for both psychologist and client), if somewhat uncommon, approach to handling psychological skill development. So what alternatives to focussing on a problem can a music teacher who sees their students suffering from musical performance anxiety choose? Why not choose solutions? Solutions are everywhere. All around us, within us, permeating our environment and prevalent throughout our history. The problem is that we can become so fixated on the problem that we simply lose sight of our quest for a solution. As a professional collaboration between a performance psychologist and education expert, we have produced a free to download 52 page book rammed full of practical solutions and ideas to help teachers teach psychological skills to their students. The emphasis is on changing the focus from problems to solutions. So what does this mean in real life? Music teachers vary from person to person. And they should. They hold beliefs and prior experiences, which, in many ways, shape the person they are. They vary in their flexibility, creativity, capability and excitability, all of which blend together in a complex way to create the teacher they are. So when presented with a student who is very nervous about performing, they will approach this problem from very different angles. It should always be remembered that what one person may not view as a ‘performance’ is something that, in the mind of a student, may be an event provoking deep felt anxiety. Therefore, ignoring it and hoping it will go away, is seldom a good option. In our culture it is very easy to accept that until we know a cause we cannot provide a solution. Sometimes this is the right approach, but too frequently this line of thinking can inhibit effective action taking. By switching the focus to solutions, behaviour is encouraged not stifled and taking action itself is often very motivating.

Let’s take a look at how this might work in reality. A very useful question a music teacher could (and may already) ask a nervous student is: “As I watch you about to perform, what will you look like (that I can see) that will tell me you are ready, and looking forward to performing?” Here we can see that the music teacher has moved the focus of their student’s attention to a hypothetical future and away from the problem. The student is most likely to reply by giving a list of what they will look like (e.g. “I will be standing/sitting tall, my shoulders will be back, I will stride onto the stage, I will look up as I enter the performance arena”). This corresponds with one of our many short-term suggestions for handling performance anxiety – our suggestion of creating a body posture reminder sheet (strategy 6C, page 43 of our freely downloadable resource). This may help the student feel ready to perform in the future and is a solution that may help students in the moments immediately preceding a performance.

But the music teacher will not be finished there. Performance anxiety occurs over a much longer timeframe than just prior to performance. That is why, in addition to many practical strategies for use just prior to, during and after performing, our booklet also gives music teachers strategies for the week leading up to a performance, and in the longer term.

So, back to our teacher. The student may tell them one week prior to a performance that they are nervous and worried about performing next week. They may want to avoid the performance completely. There could be any number of reasons for this and it is likely that these will vary from student to student. So a further question the teacher may ask the student could be: “If you weren’t feeling nervous about this performance, what would you be doing in the week leading up to the performance?” Again, we can see a hypothetical future where the student has to think about a different future without the problem. The student may answer: “I would be happier, I would be looking forward to performing because I would be confident that I am going to play well.”

The teacher could then use one of our medium term strategies to help their student build confidence, such as our key strengths worksheet (strategy 2B, page 20) or our record and reflection of prior success and achievement (strategy 3B, page 21). These are immediately usable by the teacher and will help focus the student’s attention on things they do well thereby creating an atmosphere that promotes an excitement about performing.

But again, the teacher wouldn’t stop there! Finally, the teacher may turn their attention to their own teaching. They may ask themselves, “What would be different in my teaching practice if I tried to reduce the probability of performance anxiety having an impact?” They may answer: “I would set students challenging and differentiated goals that strongly emphasise the development my students make against themselves.” Using the flow charts within the booklet as a guide, the teacher could then select an appropriate long term strategy, such as strategy 6A (page 12) in our book with important recommendations for effectively setting goals with students. They can enhance this further by implementing our recommendations to address fear of failure using strategy 3A (page 9) or effective social comparison using strategy 4A (page10).

This type of solution-focussed reflection has the benefit of promoting action rather than merely thought about action. It is also highly motivating because it is achievable both by student and teacher. Finally, it removes the student and teacher from being stuck in a blame culture seeking reasons for experiences. It re-focuses attention on how progress can be made for both student and teacher.

There is often a requirement to work on handling musical performance anxiety in the future. We hope that through this article, it can be seen that progress is possible with a changed emphasis, leading to greater enjoyment of musical learning.

To find out more about how music teachers can help their students handle musical performance anxiety, download the free 52-page guide “Performance Anxiety: A practical guide for music teachers”. And why not book onto our next ISM full day workshop on 6 July 2017. It is only £45 for members and £55 for non-members, with a maximum of 14 people so we can work intensely for the whole day with plenty of opportunities to ask questions. Or for more information, contact us directly at greg@winningessence.com or contact the ISM directly on www.ism.org.

 

Gregory Daubney (MSc MBPsS) has worked extensively across performance psychology domains since 2008, establishing Winning Essence in 2013. He has developed a thorough understanding of the psychological impact of performance on individuals and teams, with a particular interest and specialism in sport and other performance settings. Greg has also been involved in evaluating the psychological impacts of music-based interventions for young people in mental health settings. Greg’s work is informed by wide-ranging evidence and his workshops over several years have enabled him to successfully translate complex theoretical ideas into applied, practical strategies that performers at all levels can develop to achieve optimal performance. Greg regularly writes about the ways individuals and groups can successfully embed psychological skills in order to maintain a healthy approach to skill acquisition, development and performance improvement.

Dr Alison Daubney (PhD) works across music education in formal and non-formal settings. She is a qualified teacher and mentor, and has extensive experience working across all age phases from pre-school to postgraduate. As a researcher, Ally has led projects considering the health and wellbeing of young musicians in and out of school, including those in a diverse range of challenging circumstances and in mental health settings. Since 2009 Ally has worked extensively with the University of Cambridge International Examinations on international curriculum and assessment development. She works part-time as a freelance researcher, curriculum developer and trainer, complementing her work in music education at the University of Sussex. Ally has worked with the ISM on many aspects of music education since 2008 and regularly runs professional development courses on behalf of the ISM Trust for music teachers and practitioners working in a variety of settings.

Who or what inspired you to take up composing, and pursue a career in music?

My mother was the composer Elizabeth Maconchy, so clearly I had a role model. As a child I was more inclined towards writing plays but gradually composing music took over. No-one pushed me towards a career in music, it chose itself, really.

Who or what were the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?

Four composers: My mother, my husband David Lumsdaine, my first composition teacher, Jeremy Dale Roberts, and my last, Earl Kim.

What have been the greatest challenges/frustrations of your career so far?

Composition is always a challenge, and one that I welcome. Fashion is a frustration! For example, throughout the seventies and eighties almost everything I wrote was broadcast on Radio 3. Then for the next twenty years very little was broadcast. Now things seem better, as I shall be BBC Radio 3 ‘Composer of the Week’ (April 24-28 2017).

And ‘location’ as well as fashion perhaps, since I moved from London to York in 1994, and UK musical life is very London-centric. (But I love living in York.)

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working on a commissioned piece?

It is a pleasure and a stimulus to know the context of a piece – what kind of programme it is part of, who the audience are likely to be and above all, who the performers are. Occasionally it can be a challenge to keep composerly independence while meeting very specific demands of the commission.

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles and orchestras?

A good working relationship with a performer is the greatest pleasure. And every medium offers its own pleasure – writing for orchestra is marvellous. Yet the challenge also lies in the medium. For example, composing an orchestral work might take a year, but there will only be two or three hours of rehearsal and maybe only one performance. An opera (also at least a year to write) will have two or three weeks of rehearsal and several performances or a run. A much more satisfactory ratio.

Of which works are you most proud?

‘The Old Woman of Beare’, a monodrama for soprano and large chamber ensemble, is perhaps my best piece. But I would also single out a couple of the chamber operas – ‘Light Passing’, a church opera set in Avignon in the 14th century, and ‘Dream Hunter’ which has a great libretto by John Fuller about the Corsican mazzeera.

How would you characterise your compositional language?

Lyrical, dramatic. Harmony and voice-leading create and underpin the structure.

How do you work?

I work every morning (no email till after lunch!); I sketch with pencil and paper, then I use Finale to make the fair score. Sometimes I work at the piano and sometimes at a desk, it doesn’t seem to make much difference.

The best days are ones where I work right through but all too often life intervenes and I only get the morning.

Who are your favourite musicians/composers?

I don’t deal with favourites really…Mozart, Janacek? Of my musical friendships, the New Zealand composer Gillian Whitehead is a close friend whose music I admire very much.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

The first rehearsal of my first big orchestral piece, ‘The Hidden Landscape’ for the BBCSO at the 1973 Proms.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

Cultivate your inner ear! Then for the outer ear, know how to value silence and be active in combatting noise pollution,

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?

In an opera house watching one of my operas.

What is your most treasured possession?

As a child, my cat. Now that I have no cat, and since I am writing this on March 29th when the Prime Minister took UK out of Europe, I’d say my EU (Irish) passport is my most treasured possession.

To mark Nicola LeFanu’s 70th birthday (28 April 2017), Radio 3 will feature her as ‘Composer of the Week’ from 24-28 April.  Upcoming performances of LeFanu’s music include a birthday concert on 10 May in York with the Goldfield Ensemble, the world premiere of LeFanu’s May Rain in Oxford with the Orchestra of St John’s  on 16 May and the world premiere of The Swan with Jeremy Huw Williams at the Beaumaris Festival on 30 May.  

Nicola LeFanu has composed over a hundred works which have been widely played, broadcast and recorded; her music is published by Novello and by Edition Peters.

She has been commissioned by the BBC, by festivals in UK and beyond, and by leading orchestras, ensembles and soloists.

Her catalogue includes a number of works for string ensemble, and chamber music for a wide variety of mediums, often including voice. She has a particular affinity for vocal music and has composed eight operas.

She is active in many aspects of the musical profession, as composer, teacher, director etc. From 1994-2008 she was Professor of Music at the University of York. Recent premieres include works for chamber ensemble, for solo instrumentalists, Tokaido Road – a Journey after Hiroshige (music theatre) and Threnody for orchestra.

She was born in England in 1947: her mother was the composer Elizabeth Maconchy. LeFanu studied at Oxford, RCM and, as a Harkness Fellow, at Harvard. She is married to the Australian composer David Lumsdaine and they have a son, Peter LeFanu Lumsdaine.

www.nicolalefanu.com

Guest post by Dr Michael Low

I have a confession: I don’t like to engage in online debates. The thought of someone meticulously sharpening their proverbial pitch-fork in response to my opinion is almost as terrifying as anticipating the climax of Stanley Kubrick’s Shining, where the psychotic Jack broke through the bathroom to find the terrified Wendy, before shouting the ominous cinematic caption: ‘Here’s Johnny!’ I am also not the biggest fan of text messages and emails, as they can be open to misunderstanding due to the recipient’s frame of mind and emotional state. Or perhaps I am not a fan of all these because I am just a voyeur, which would possibly explain why I have always have an affinity for Schubert’s Winterreise and an undying love for the movie theatre.

Having read the Charlotte Gill’s original article on music education and the responses that it generated, part of me was tempted not to say anything; what difference would my opinion make? I do, after all, live in a country which has recently been downgraded to ‘junk’ status (the result of the South African president’s catastrophic cabinet reshuffle). Sweeping statement perhaps, but there has always been a difference in the reception of the opinions of someone who works in a first-world country and those of someone who works in Africa; for all its breath-taking scenery, somehow being a music educator in Cape Town doesn’t carry as much gravitas as being one in Europe. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I probably practise the piano inside a straw hut, while predators such as lions and leopards huff and puff outside my front door, regardless of my credentials.

I have no idea in what context Gill’s article was written. However, in my opinion it is important to keep in mind that she was (unconsciously) addressing two things: the first was music education being ‘elitist’ due to the technical hindrance caused by music notation:

This is a cryptic, tricky language – rather like Latin – that can only be read by a small number of people, most of whom have benefited from private education. Children who do not have the resources, or ability, to comprehend it, are written off. Even when they are capable performers.

The second was music as a hobby. (It must be said that Gill was not explicit in her description of music as a recreational activity, but it is implied in her statement):

‘I play the piano through reading letters alone (D/F#, for example), churning out chords as if it were a guitar. In the US I have seen children pick up songs through tablature alone. Sure, we may not be able to tell the difference between the bass and treble clef, but we can play our favourite songs. That is all I ever wanted from music.’

I will address the second point before the first.

Despite being a musical snob, I do believe that there is a place for playing your favourite music without the use of traditional music notation, YouTube features countless pop songs and soundtrack tutorials, some of which are excellent to assist those who are looking for a more straight-forward way of accessing their favourite piece of music. However, just as there are those who aspire only to play their favourite songs, there are also a handful of us who seek to study and perform music at a higher level (by this I mean a more formal music education such as obtaining a degree or studying towards a Conservatoire-type performance diploma). In our studies, we seek to understand the aesthetic value behind a Beethoven sonata or a Rachmaninov concerto. Music is no longer a mere ‘hobby,’ but a significant part of our life: we live it, breathe it, sleep with it and it haunts us in our dreams. The repertoire that interest us are not Adele songs or Richard Clayderman type piano ballades but Schubert sonatas, Brahms concerti, Chopin preludes, etc, and the most straightforward way of accessing these works is through music notation, as it is the primary source of the composer’s musical intention. Similarly, any academic in tertiary level will always look to reference a primary source during research, it is only when this is not possible that a secondary source is quoted. Here is another analogy: reciting and performing Shakespeare through imitation is not nearly the same as actually taking time to study and understand the poet’s original writing. I personally have no interest in studying or performing Shakespeare, I learn to read purely so that I can enjoy reading sports journalism, online articles and browsing the web. At the same time, I do not think I have the right (or audacity) to be critical of the language that the poet used just because I cannot relate to it.

As human beings, being a specialist or expert in one’s chosen field does not make us better than our amateur counterparts, but it does – in some cases – make us much more obsessive. Nevertheless, it is important to remember that there will always be a place for everyone, and just as an enthusiastic hacker of the golf ball will probably never reach the dizzy height of a touring golf professional, this has not stop me from enjoying the game, and in the process, attaining a sense of satisfaction every time I hit a good shot.

I do not think music notation is difficult to understand, yet at the same time I do not think it is easy either, and just like everything else in life that is worth doing, comprehension of music notation requires effort and, more importantly, time, but unfortunately this is where things begins to go awry with the current generation of music students. This is an issue I will address below.

I agree with Gill’s argument that auditory perception and other skills can be as important as notation. I, for one, see shapes and patterns on the piano when it comes to memorising a piece of music. I have had the experience of teaching a small handful of students who, despite their enormous desire to play the piano, find it very difficult to tell the difference between a note written on a line of the stave and a note written in a space. The situation literally got out of out of hand (no pun intended!) when we moved on to playing hands together. In these cases I agree that a methodology outside music notation may work very well in order to enhance the student’s enjoyment of music. However, it is also my experience that a number of students cannot read music notation not because they do not have the ability to do so but simply because they chose not to. This is in consistent with the age of social media that reward narcissistic selfies and instantaneous gratification; as soon as something gets remotely difficult, you either give up or try something else. I have been asked by one of my students, ‘Dr Low, why do I need to learn how to read the notes? You can just show me where everything goes, it would save both of us a lot of time.’ To which I answered, ‘In that case you don’t need me as your teacher, you need YouTube.’ Perhaps I am ‘too understanding’ (to borrow the words of a generous parent), but I can sympathise with the initial struggle of learning music notation. However, just like learning a new language or a new skill, the more you familiarise yourself with it, the easier it becomes. I also suspect that the unwillingness of certain students to read music notation has much to do with the physical make-up of the piano, as it is one of the few instruments that allow the student to be taught by rote. And although YouTube tutorial clips have their place in enhancing and assisting a music enthusiast, it can also have a converse effect. I have seen a number of my technically savvy (and at the same time immensely musical) students and friends doing themselves a huge disservice by underestimating the importance of music notation. Excuses include ‘It just takes too long’ or ‘I don’t have the time’, along with ‘I just want to play music for fun, not properly’.

In response to Gill’s statement about still not being able to sight-read, I too must confess that I was an exceptionally poor sight-reader throughout my University years – which was papered over by my obsessive practice routine. It was only later in life that I realised that one doesn’t study Beethoven’s Hammerklavier Sonata by just practising the Hammerklavier, but also by studying the rest of Beethoven’s piano output. However, this does mean that (despite my ability to perform repertoire such as the Brahms F-minor Sonata, Liszt transcriptions and Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto) I have never featured prominently in the music department’s performance calendar. I guess there are only so many times when you can say to your fellow colleagues, ‘Send me the music beforehand’. The situation reached its all-time low (again, no pun intended!) during the first year of my teaching when I was swamped with music to learn for school plays and assemblies – the actual difficulties of these music were only about Grade 4 level at most, but because I am not used to learning pieces quickly I ended up making an absolute hack of everything. It didn’t exactly help that my predecessor was an accompanist of note and could read (almost) anything under the sun. My musical ego took a further dent when a former colleague, who I was very friendly with at the time, told me that a senior member of staff had now stressed her reservations about my musicianship. Looking back, this was precisely the kick up the backside that I needed as it gave me every motivation to do something about my sight-reading. And if I can, at the age of twenty-nine, learn to sight read and make a success of it (I am by no means a voracious sight-reader, but I am a hell of a lot better than what I was ten years ago), then I truly believe that there is hope for everyone who is willing to give music notation a go.

Perhaps I am a hopeful Romantic (as opposed to a hopeless one), but teaching someone how to read music notation goes beyond just equipping them with the intellectual know-how of playing a piece of music. Just like any self-respecting teacher of literature, I strongly feel that it is a music teacher’s duty to introduce his/her students to the scores of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt, etc. How would a teacher of German literature feel if his/her students went through their entire high-school career without having read a word of Die Leiden des jungen Werthers or Faust? I am not for a moment suggesting that all teachers do a Martin Krause (Krause was one of Liszt’s student and taught the likes of Claudio Arrau and Edwin Fisher) and set our students the whole of Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes to learn for homework, which was what Arrau got when he started his studies with Krause. But perhaps an introduction to some of the more well-known works of the Classical music literature: I recall smiling widely when one of my student remarked that the transition between the slow movement and finale of Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto reminded him of ‘a sun gradually rising at dawn.’ Finally, through the importance of music notation, a teacher is able to teach a student skills such as ethics, discipline: how to practise more efficiently and intelligently; integrity: to respect the composer’s score; grit: to persist and keep going once you have the goal in sight; and communication. All of these, when applied to someone’s everyday live, will not only make them a better person, but help them to make a difference to society.

In anticipation of the Chinese (Lunar) New Year of 2017, my girlfriend send me a short video on the meaning of the annual celebration as well as the symbols that a pair of chopsticks hold. In this poignant film, there was a scene where a mum introduces her daughter to a pair of chopsticks for the very first time. At first the daughter was intrigued by this strange culinary invention, but as she tries to use them her efforts quickly spiral into frustration, and frustration soon turns to tears. While her daughter is upset and close to giving up, mum remain calm and continues to encourage the teary infant, who eventually succeeded in using the chopsticks to eat her dinner, with a beaming grin. As music teachers, the understanding of music notation is of paramount importance when it comes to the interpretation of the composer’s musical intentions. However, we must also bear in mind that every student is different and unique in his/her own way, hence our job is to merely locate and open the door, but (ultimately) it is the student’s decision to walk through it. I will not, even for one second, bat an eyelid if my girlfriend decides to ask for a spoon and a fork when we dine at our favourite Chinese restaurant. But she is adamant about using chopsticks as they are much more rewarding when sampling Oriental cuisine.

As a teenager, Michael studied piano under the guidance of Richard Frostick before enrolling in London’s prestigious Centre for Young Musicians, where he studied composition with the English composer Julian Grant, and piano with the internationally acclaimed pedagogue Graham Fitch. During his studies at Surrey University in England, Michael made his debut playing Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto in the 1999 Guildford International Music Festival, before graduating with Honours under the tutelage of Clive Williamson. In 2000, Michael obtained his Masters in Music (also from Surrey University), specialising in music criticism, studio production and solo performance under Nils Franke. An international scholarship brought Michael to the University of Cape Town, where he resumed his studies with Graham Fitch. During this time, Michael was invited to perform Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto for The Penang Governer’s Birthday Celebration Gala Concert. In 2009, Michael obtained his Doctorate in Music from the University of Cape Town under the supervision of Hendrik Hofmeyr. His thesis set out to explore the Influence of Romanticism on the Evolution of Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes. Michael has also worked with numerous eminent teachers and pianists, including Nina Svetlanova, Niel Immelman, Frank Heneghan, James Gibb, Phillip Fowke, Renna Kellaway, Carolina Oltsmann, Florian Uhlig, Gordon Fergus Thompson, Francois du Toit and Helena van Heerden.

Michael currently holds teaching positions in two of Cape Town’s exclusive education centres: Western Province Preparatory School and Herschel School for Girls. He is very much sought after as a passionate educator of young children

www.michaellow.co.za