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It started with this tweet…..

I retweeted it because it amused me. But looking at that red cover with the simple outline of a recorder also brought a Proustian rush of memories – of about 20 children sitting in a sun-filled classroom at Maney Hill Primary School in Sutton Coldfield in the early 1970s, with the book open flat on the table in front of us, each clutching a brown plastic recorder from which we attempted to draw sweet – and often not-so-sweet – sounds!

I confess I loved the recorder. It was easy to play and portable so you could take it round to your best friend’s house and play London’s Burning or Three Blind Mice in a round together. I loved the green Dolmetsch box that the recorder arrived in, and the special fluffy cleaning device.

My interest in, and enthusiasm for the recorder was encouraged less by school recorder playing and more by my father, himself a very competent amateur clarinettist and recorder player. Our joint enthusiasm was undoubtedly helped by David Munrow, whose radio and TV programmes about early music inspired us to improve our recorder playing, explore new repertoire and different instruments too (I had a very pretty blonde wood alto recorder in addition to the treble). At the same time, I was beginning my piano studies, and I have very happy memories of making music at home, with my dad and with other recorder-playing school friends. Later, at secondary school, I was sufficiently proficient in the recorder (though I never took any grade exams) to join the Recorder Group which performed mostly Renaissance and Baroque repertoire. It was one of many fantastic musical opportunities I enjoyed at a state comprehensive school in the early 1980s: how lucky we were then!

That image of The School Recorder Book brought a flood of memories for me so I posted it on Twitter and asked people to share their own reminiscences of playing the recorder at school. The response has been incredible – I never imagined that I would “go viral” online with a post about learning the recorder (to date, the post has received over 116K views)! So many wonderful memories shared (some not so positive!) – there isn’t room to include them all here, so I will include a selection and you can read the rest via my original post.

The first person to reply was concert pianist Sir Stephen Hough with a less than positive memory:

Remember it? I’ve still got a copy (and Book 2).

Started learning at 8. At 12, went to Saturday morning local music college to play. Took Trinity College grades up to 8, then Diploma; A level music, and entered first ever BBC Young Musician (1978). And met my husband!

HEATHER

Many, many other people responded with comments about how the recorder had encouraged their interest in music, got them reading music, and led them to move on to other instruments. For some it was an important gateway into music which eventually led to a professional career in music:

Recorders are cheap for schools and parents to buy and are a great way to give children their very own musical instrument. They’re also a gateway to other instruments and a way to make notation come to life! And they can sound really good!

OLIVIA

This book laid the foundation of a joyous musical journey for many of us whose life would be so much poorer for not learning an instrument! If it was still compulsory in schools we wouldn’t be in half the mess we are!

PHIL

I learned with this at school in the early 80s, and remember my delight when the notes on the page finally matched up to my fingers and the sound I made! Went on to the next book in private lessons, took up treble, exams up to grade 8, learned tenor and bass, am still playing.

SERENA

Learning recorder in primary school was such an integral part of my musical education. We were so lucky to have a really enthusiastic head teacher who encouraged us to learn. She played classical music as we entered assembly and wrote the name of the piece on the blackboard.

MARK SIMPSON, composer & clarinettist

Flipping LOVED it – played for hours. Mum introduced me (a primary teacher who taught recorder in class w/ this book) and then I learnt with my class when I was 9/10. I’m convinced it made me a better singer (breath, phrasing etc) and nowadays a better broadcaster!

KATIE BREATHWICK Classic FM presenter

I received over 500 replies to my original tweet, and a few reminiscences by email too. I’m so grateful to everyone who shared their recorder memories, even the less savoury ones, such as recalling the taste and smell of the disinfectant in the bucket where the school recorders lived between lessons! The overriding message from all of this is that playing the recorder at school laid the foundations for a love of music, the ability to read music, the inspiration to go to learn other instruments, to teach music or to pursue a career as a performing musician (“I wanted to be Michala Petri!” declared one enthusiastic respondent to my original tweet).

Of course there is a serious side to all this ‘recorder love’. Today children learn instruments like the ukelele or ocarina at primary school and the recorder has rather fallen out of favour. Yet it’s one of the most logical, simple instruments to play and makes a pleasant sound from the get go. The reasons given for learning the ukelele are identical to those for the recorder: indeed, learning any musical instrument helps with concentration, cognition, memory, self-confidence, and a host of other valuable life skills.

Today music teaching in schools is declining at an alarming rate and recent statistics on music education make for depressing reading. Only 5,000 students in England took A level music in 2023, down 45 percent since 2010 [1]. If this downward trend continues, in less than 10 years no students in the state sector will be taking music A level, and learning music will become the preserve of the privately-educated, specialist music schools, and those who can afford private tuition. Not only does this decrease the pool of potential professional musicians and music educators, it also confirms the tired cliché that music, in particular classical music, is an elite activity. The impetus has to be from bottom up – from early years education where enthusiastic, creative teaching fosters an interest in and love of music from a young age.

Reversing the decline in music education will take sustained, collaborative efforts from a range of different organisations, partners, and funding bodies across the music sector. A diverse and thriving music sector, with a representative workforce and equal opportunities for children and young people to consider meaningful careers in music, was not built overnight. It is the work of decades of trust building with children and families and careful, considered, and consistent offering of opportunities for young people to develop their skills over many years. The best time to reverse the decline in music education and address representation issues in the music sector is not when young people reach adulthood, but during childhood.

The Day the Music Dies? Why time is running out to tackle the decline in UK music education

You can read all the responses by clicking my original tweet and scrolling down.

[1] The Day the Music Dies? Why time is running out to tackle the decline in UK music education

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I’ve always loved the ceremony of nine lessons and carols from the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge. For me, someone who doesn’t really “do Christmas”, the opening notes of Once in Royal David’s City signal the start of Christmas.

The Christmas “music” which fills shops, cafes and other spaces in the run up to the festive season is mostly trite and trashy with irritatingly catchy tunes which quickly become an unshakeable earworm.

Christmas carols are, however, another kind of music, in a special, much-loved league of their own. Aside from the poetry of their texts, there are the lovely memorable melodies (some carols such as In the Bleak Midwinter have several versions) and rich harmonies, often underpinned by wonderful organ playing. I’m not a churchgoer, but I do love the music of the Christmas festival.

51pfArkvBxLWhen I was at secondary school in the early 1980s (a large state comprehensive school in Hertfordshire), we always performed Handel’s Messiah at Christmas and a few days later had our own ceremony of nine lessons and carols, performed in the church next door to the school by the senior choir and orchestra, pupils and staff (the Headmaster always read the final lesson, booming “IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD…!” at us in stentorian tones). In addition to traditional carols (marked “All” in the service sheet), we sang other Christmas songs, many of which were taken from ‘Carols for Choirs’ (my particular favourites were Adam Lay YBounden (Boris Ord’s version) and Torches by John Joubert). I loved singing in the choir and playing in the orchestra, with that special sense of common purpose and a shared enjoyment and excitement in the music we were performing.

At the time, the huge amount of music which went on in my school was taken for granted. The school prided itself on its music provision and I remember this was one of the main factors which influenced my parents’ decision in applying to the school – and I’m very glad they did. The music department was run by an energetic and hugely committed teacher, (whose enthusiastic teaching inspired me, in part, when I became a piano teacher, and who retired only a few years ago). As well as two choirs and orchestras, a madrigal choir, recorder group and various other smaller ensembles, there was plenty of provision for instrumental lessons (I learnt the clarinet so that I could join the senior orchestra), plus opportunities to go on European tours with the orchestra or sing at the Royal Albert Hall (as I did when I was about 15).

Looking back, I now realise that I was very privileged to have access to and be surrounded by so much music at school, and also at home, and to be encouraged in my love and practice of music by inspiring music teachers and supportive parents. Music was very much a part of my day-to-day life and I never considered it particularly special or privileged (though I was teased a lot at school for being “good at music”). With the serious erosion of music provision in our state schools, what I enjoyed in my teens is now very much the preserve of a comfortable middle-class upbringing, and music and music lessons are in danger of becoming the exclusive preserve of the better off.

The benefits of learning a musical instrument are well-documented and I have observed and experienced many of them at close quarters through my teaching and my own studies when I returned to piano lessons as an adult. Learning a musical instrument equips us with important life-skills. If you can perform in a student or school concert or a public music festival, you can also stand up before a room of people and give a paper at a conference. Music stimulates brain function and can improve memory, cognitive and motor skills, concentration, time management and organizational skills, and creative thinking. Playing an instrument is both stimulating and therapeutic, as the physical activity of playing releases the same “happy hormones” (endorphins) which sportspeople enjoy. Learning and playing a musical instrument fosters self-expression, and can bring a deep sense of fulfillment and personal achievement. Meanwhile, playing in an ensemble, orchestra or band, or singing in a choir, offers a wonderful sense of a shared experience while also encouraging team building, sociability and cooperation. For children with special needs or learning difficulties such as dyslexia and ADHD, music can offer an important outlet and allow them to shine when they may be struggling in other areas of their school life.

We need music, and we need committed, skilled and enthusiastic people to encourage and train the next generation of musicians and to foster an appreciation of and excitement in music, whatever the genre. The devaluing of music, along with the other arts, by former education secretary Michael Gove and continued by the current encumbent and this philisitine government in general, is an outrageous attack on a crucial aspect of our cultural landscape and heritage. Music and arts education is simply not safe in this government’s hands.

We need music. Support music in schools, music hubs, local ensembles, national orchestras. Encourage your children to learn music, sing in a choir, join a band, form their own band, go to concerts, talk to musicians. Write to your MP and urge him or her to take music education seriously. Listen, engage, and above all enjoy. Please.

Carols from Kings – BBC Radio 4

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Julian Lloyd Webber, acclaimed cellist and Principal of the newly rebuilt Royal Birmingham Conservatoire, on inspiration, passion and the importance of music education

JLW_green

Who or what inspired you to take up the cello and pursue a career in music?

I always loved the sound of the cello and I found it a very natural instrument to play – unlike the piano which my mother attempted to teach me. Therein lies a lesson: never learn an instrument from your parents!

Who or what have been the most significant influences on your musical life and career?

I wanted to play the cello professionally after I heard the great Russian cellist Rostropovich in concert.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career?

Every performance is a challenge.

You are a passionate advocate of music education? Why do you feel we need proper provision for music education in our schools?

Children deserve a wider education than just a few narrow subjects. They should leave school knowing a lot about the world – and that includes its culture.

As Principal of Royal Birmingham Conservatoire, how do you see this institution’s role in the context of music education in the UK and beyond, and the wider society of the city of Birmingham and the UK in general?

Birmingham is a fantastic city with a great future – soon Londoners will realise that they can have a far better lifestyle for much less cost in Birmingham. Unfortunately that will be the end of the city’s comparatively low property prices. The Royal Conservatoire will be at the heart of the city. We have five performance spaces and we will be running an extensive programme of concerts of every kind of music.

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

Keep thinking for yourself and never lose your passion for what you do.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Bringing music to as many people as possible.
Professor Julian Lloyd Webber is the Principal of Birmingham Conservatoire. Widely regarded as one of the finest musicians of his generation and described by Strad magazine as ‘the doyen of British cellists’, Julian Lloyd Webber has enjoyed one of the most creative and successful careers in classical music today. As founder of the British Government’s In Harmony programme and the Chair of Sistema England, he continues to promote personal and community development in some of England’s most deprived areas. He was elected Fellow of the Royal College of Music in 1994 and – in recognition of his lifelong devotion to the music of Elgar – he was elected President of the Elgar Society in 2009.

At the age of sixteen Julian Lloyd Webber won a scholarship to the Royal College of Music and he completed his studies in Geneva with the renowned cellist, Pierre Fournier. Since then he has collaborated with an extraordinary array of musicians from Lord Yehudi Menuhin, Lorin Maazel and Sir Georg Solti to Elton John and Stephane Grappelli.

Julian Lloyd Webber has premiered more than sixty works for cello and he has inspired new compositions from composers as diverse as Joaquin Rodrigo and Malcolm Arnold to Philip Glass, James MacMillan and – most recently – Eric Whitacre. His many recordings have received worldwide acclaim: his Brit-award winning Elgar Concerto conducted by Lord Menuhin was chosen as the finest ever version by BBC Music Magazine and his coupling of Britten’s Cello Symphony and Walton’s Concerto with the Academy of St Martin in the Fields conducted by Sir Neville Marriner was described by Gramophone magazine as being “beyond any rival”. He has also recorded several highly successful CDs of shorter pieces including Cello Song, Unexpected Songs and – together with Jiaxin Lloyd Webber – A Tale of Two Cellos: “It would be difficult to find better performances of this kind of repertoire anywhere on records of today or yesterday” – Gramophone.

Julian is married to fellow cellist Jiaxin Cheng. He was the London Underground’s first official busker and he was the only classical musician chosen to perform at the Closing Ceremony of Olympics 2012. In April 2014 Julian received the Incorporated Society of Musician’s annual Distinguished Musician Award.

www.julianlloydwebber.com

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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